“You Chose Work Over Me”
“II cant believe what Im hearing! Its unbelievable! Your blasted job, your endless calls, your constant business trips!” Emily swept a mug off the table, sending it crashing against the wall, splattering half-drunk coffee like fireworks. Shards scattered across the floor like confetti.
“Stop overreacting, youre acting like a child!” James didnt even raise his voice, which only made it worse. She was boiling inside, and he just stood there like a statue. “I cant cancel this trip, Em. This is about the promotion. Its non-negotiable.”
“The promotion?!” She choked on her anger. “That promotion alwaysalwayscomes before us! Remember when you missed Lucys graduation? Or my birthday, even though I reminded you a week in advance? And now this! Alfies surgery is in two days, and youre jetting off to bloody Edinburgh!”
“Manchester,” he corrected automatically, then grimaced.
“Who cares?! You could be flying to the moon for all it matters!” She flailed her arms like a windmill. “You wont be there when your son goes under anesthesia! When hes terrified out of his mind, when Im climbing the walls with worryall for some stupid contract you think is more important!”
James exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his tired face. Dark circles under his eyes, stubble uneven, but his expression stubborn as ever.
“Its not just some contractits the CFO position, Em. Twenty years Ive worked for this. And Alfies surgery is routine, for Gods sake! Its just tonsils, not brain surgery!”
“Oh, brilliant! And if something goes wrong? What then, huh?” She dug her nails into her palms.
“Nothing will go wrong,” he dismissed. “I spoke to the surgeon myself.”
“But if it does?!” Her voice turned shrill.
“For crying out loudif anything happens, Ill be on the first flight back! Like when Lucy had her appendix out, remember?”
“Oh, I remember!” she sneered. “You rolled in eight hours later, when it was all over! The doctors had gone home, but there you were, our knight in shining armour!”
James shook his head.
“I cant split myself in half, Em. I work my arse off so we can have this life. Or did you forget how you nagged me about moving? The neighbours are loud, the streets filthy, the Tubes too far”
“Id take that cramped flat in a heartbeat if it meant having a proper husband and father around!” she shot back. “Someone who actually sees his kids more than just Sunday afternoons!”
James dropped into a chair like dead weight.
“Listen, we had an agreement. You handle the home, the kids, the domestic stuff. I bring in the money. What changed? When did that stop being enough?”
Emily opened her mouth to unleash her fury, but the front door slammed open, followed by the sound of backpacks hitting the floor and childrens voices.
“Fine. Well talk later,” she muttered, plastering on a smile so forced it hurt her cheeks as she stormed out.
James opened his laptop. He had a presentation to finish, but his mind was a fog.
—
That evening, after the kids were asleep, Emily scrolled mindlessly through her phone at the kitchen table. The tears had dried; now she just felt hollow. Twenty-two years of marriage, and somehow their relationship had turned into a balance sheetassets, liabilities, income, expenses. When had it all gotten so complicated?
James walked in and sat across from her.
“Coffee?” she asked flatly, not looking up.
“Please.” He rubbed his temples. “Em, we need to talk.”
“About what?” She flicked the kettle on. “Its obvious. Youre leaving day after tomorrow. Alfie and I will manage alone.”
“Look,” he reached for her shoulders, “I know this is hard for you. But this promotionit matters.”
“More than us?” She turned, and in her eyes, he saw exhaustion, not anger.
“Everything I do is for you. For the family.”
“No, James,” she shook her head. “Its for you. For your ego, your career. We stopped being a priority years ago.”
“Thats not true.”
“Isnt it? When Alfie talked about his surgery, do you know what he said? At least its during Dads trip, so he wont stress about missing work. Hes eleven, James. Hes already learned to schedule his life around your job.”
James said nothing.
“And Lucy asked yesterday if youd come to her uni graduation next year. Not because she wants you therebecause shes afraid youll be too busy again.”
“Ill be there,” he muttered.
“Ill try,” she echoed bitterly. “Its always Ill try. Do you know when I realised youd chosen work over me? When I had the miscarriage. Ten years ago. You flew in two days after I was discharged.”
“I was in Hong Kong for negotiations”
“Exactly.” Her voice was steel. “You were negotiating. And I was alone, grieving our child.”
She turned away, grinding coffee beans with methodical precision.
“You never told me how you felt,” he said quietly.
“What would it have changed? Youd apologise, promise it wouldnt happen againthen do it all over the next time.”
James pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maybe you should talk to someone. A therapist.”
“Ah, of course.” She laughed coldly. “The problem is me, is it? Not the fact that my husbands a part-time lodger who tops up the joint account, but that Im not cheerful enough about it?”
“Thats not what I meant. Youre catastrophising.”
“Am I? When was the last parent-teacher meeting you attended? Do you even know Alfies form tutors name? Or what Lucys dissertation is about?”
Silence.
“Thought so.” She slid his coffee across the table. “Youve missed our lives, James. And youre still missing them.”
He took a sip and wincedtoo strong, like always when she was upset.
“Ill take leave this summer. Well go away, all of us.”
“Lucys backpacking through Cornwall with friends,” she reminded him. “And Alfies signed up for football camp.”
“You couldve checked with me before planning!” Irritation edged his voice for the first time that night.
“I did. Twice. You said, Sort it, well figure it out later. So we did.”
James rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. I dont remember.”
“You know what terrifies me?” She stared past him. “Im starting to realise lifes easier without you. When youre home, I keep hoping youll finally be presentnot just physically. And every time, Im disappointed.”
“What do you want from me?” he asked. “To turn down the promotion? Quit?”
“I want our kids to have a father, not a walking ATM. I want a husband, not a flatmate who occasionally sleeps here.”
“I cant throw away my career at fifty,” he said firmly. “Its too late to start over.”
“No ones asking you to. Just find balance.”
“Im trying!” His voice rose before he checked himself, glancing toward the kids rooms. “I am, Em. But you have to understandat my level”
“At your level, with your salary, your responsibilities,” she cut in. “I know the script by heart. Meanwhile, the kids are growing up without you. And so am I.”
“Thats not fair. I always make time on weekends.”
“When work doesnt interfere,” she clarified. “Which happens, what, once a month?”
Silence fell. Outside, car engines hummed; inside, only the ticking clock and fridges drone filled the space.
“I cant cancel the trip,” James finally said. “But Ill postpone it by a day to take Alfie to hospital.”
“Youve already booked flights.”
“Ill change them.” His jaw set. “And Ill call every hour until they say hes out of surgery.”
Emily gave a joyless smile. “You think that fixes things?”
“No,” he admitted. “But its a start. I dont want to lose you, Em. Truly.”
“You already nearly have,” she said softly. “And I dont know if its fixable.”
—
The hospital corridor buzzed with chatter and footsteps. Emily sat stiffly outside the operating theatre, twisting her handbag strap. Alfie had been in there for over an hourforty minutes longer than promised.
Beside her, Lucy stared at her phone, though Emily caught her anxious glances at the doors.
“Wheres Dad?” Lucy asked suddenly.
“You knowbusiness trip.”
