Years later, Emily could still recall that journey clearly. She had flown out a day before everyone else for her ex-mother-in-law’s birthday. She had barely dropped into the plane seat when she flinched: someone had called her name unexpectedly.
Earlier, in the check-in queue, her fingers had tightened around the strap of her handbag. There was still a day to go before her ex-mother-in-law’s birthday, but Emily had deliberately chosen the early flight. She knew James, as always, would put everything off—he would probably fly the following morning. Three years had passed since the divorce, and in all that time they had managed to live in the same city without once crossing paths. She wanted to disturb that fragile balance less than ever.
Seat 12A, she read on the ticket. A window seat, just as she liked. On the plane, as usual, she reached for her book—a new novel she had started the day before and could not put down. It was a story about love, betrayal and forgiveness. She used to avoid stories like that, but time healed.
“Emily?” A familiar voice made her shudder. What a coincidence.
Slowly, she raised her eyes. James stood in the aisle, holding the handle of his suitcase. Just as well-groomed as ever in his favourite grey jacket. Only at his temples a little grey had crept in, which she had never noticed before.
“You’re always late, aren’t you?” slipped out instead of a greeting.
“And you always plan everything in advance,” he replied with a smile, taking out his ticket. “Hm, 12B.”
Emily felt her cheeks burn. Three hours next to the man she had carefully avoided all those years. Fate seemed to be playing a trick on them.
“I could swap seats with someone,” James began.
“Leave it,” Emily interrupted. “We’re adults.”
James nodded and sat down beside her. His familiar aftershave drifted across, and the scent hit her like a stab in the heart. How often had she woken up with that smell in her nose?
“How’s work?” he asked after take-off, when the silence had become unbearable.
“Good. I’ve opened my own yoga studio,” she answered in a calm voice. “And you? Still there?”
“No, I moved into consulting. Remember how I always dreamed of it?”
Of course she remembered. She also remembered the endless arguments about it. She had been afraid of change; he had longed for it. Now, years later, each had got what they wanted. So why did her heart still ache so much?
“Mum will be absolutely thrilled to see you,” James said after a pause. “She still keeps the ceramic vase you gave her for her last birthday.”
“Helen was always—” Emily hesitated, searching for the right words, “—so good to me.”
“Even after the divorce, she said you were the best daughter-in-law anyone could wish for.”
Emily felt her eyes sting. She reached for her book to hide her emotion.
“What are you reading?” James glanced at the cover.
“The Time of Forgiveness,” she answered, and they both fell silent as the irony of the title became obvious.
The rest of the flight was spent in silence, but it was a different silence—not tense like a stretched string, but almost comfortable, as it used to be. When the plane landed in London, James helped her take her bag down from the overhead locker.
“Shall we share a taxi?” he suggested. “We’re going the same way anyway.”
Emily hesitated. Three years earlier they had separated, convinced they would never stand side by side again. And yet here they were, and the world hadn’t ended.
“All right,” she nodded. “But I’m keeping an eye on the satnav—you always argue with technology otherwise.”
James laughed, and that familiar laugh made something inside her tremble. Perhaps you sometimes had to let go of the past so that the present could become brighter?
As they left the plane, she realised that for the first time in a long while she did not regret a chance encounter. Ahead lay the birthday, a festively set table and the uncertain looks of relatives. But now she knew they would manage. After all, they always had.
The taxi wound through the evening streets of London. Emily, as promised, kept her eye on the route while James sat beside her, separated only by a bag on the middle seat.
“Turn right here,” Emily said, and James had to smile: she knew the way to his parents’ house better than he did.
“Do you remember the first time we drove to Mum’s?” he asked suddenly. “You were so nervous the whole time.”
“Of course!” Emily snorted. “I changed my clothes three times before we left, I was so worked up. I wanted to make a good impression.”
“And then you poured soup all over yourself.”
They both laughed, and for a moment time seemed to stand still. Then the taxi stopped outside the familiar house, and the moment vanished into the twilight.
Helen met them at the door and raised her hands in surprise: “You came together? What a surprise!”
“We met by chance on the plane,” Emily explained quickly, catching a glimmer of hope in her ex-mother-in-law’s eyes.
“Come in, come in! Emily, I’ve prepared your room—the same as always.”
Emily froze. Her room—the upstairs bedroom where she and James had always stayed when they visited. Where the morning sun painted playful patterns on the wallpaper, and from the window you could see the old apple tree.
“Mum, maybe I’d better take the guest room?” James tried.
“No discussion!” Helen interrupted. “The guests are sleeping there tomorrow. Emily stays in the main bedroom, James in your old childhood room. Everything just as before.”
“Everything just as before”—the words echoed in Emily’s mind. In truth, nothing was as before, but neither of them dared to argue with Helen.
The evening passed with preparations for the celebration. Emily helped in the kitchen while James sorted through old boxes in the attic—a task his mother had been wanting him to do for a long time. They deliberately avoided being alone, but under one roof that was not easy.
At night Emily lay awake for a long time. The bed felt too big, too empty. Behind the wall, in James’s old room, the floorboards creaked—apparently James couldn’t sleep either. She recognised the sounds: three steps to the window, four steps back. That was how he always paced when he was thinking something over.
Suddenly it went quiet. Emily turned onto her side and looked out of the window. The apple tree rustled in the wind, and for a moment it seemed as if the last three years had never happened.
