Betrayal with a View
Emily couldn’t sit still—she paced the flat like a caged animal. Her husband’s recent behaviour troubled her deeply. For days, James had been unusually attentive: helping around the house, cooking lavish meals, bringing home flowers. These gestures of care only made her more suspicious. “He’s guilty of something,” Emily muttered, stepping to the window. Her gaze dropped to the street below, and her heart clenched. She recoiled sharply. “Could he really do this?” she whispered, disbelief twisting inside her.
Just then, a woman’s voice spoke behind her. It was his wife—Sophie.
James stood by the window, watching their neighbour Emily walk her little terrier. Sophie moved closer, glanced outside, and stiffened.
“What’s on your mind?” she asked, her tone icy.
“Work,” he sighed, avoiding her eyes. “A colleague botched a project, and now I’m cleaning up the mess.”
She studied his face. Something in his voice and expression betrayed him, but she only nodded and retreated to the kitchen.
James felt irritation simmering inside him. Lately, Sophie grated on his nerves—prickly, nitpicking. He’d begun searching for warmth elsewhere and found it in Emily. She was quiet, always smiling, living alone just upstairs.
That evening, a power outage at work sent him home early. After lounging around, he went for a walk and spotted Emily in the courtyard. He couldn’t resist—he struck up a conversation. One thing led to another: a café, then her flat.
Morning brought a weight of guilt. Their wedding photo hung in the hall—young, hopeful faces staring back. He remembered his vows. “Forever” now sounded like a cruel joke.
He cooked Sophie’s favourite shepherd’s pie that night. When she returned, tired but pleased, she praised him, even kissed his cheek. He forced a smile, his mind replaying the last few days.
Days later, on his day off, James avoided Emily, disgusted with himself. Yet the pull was magnetic. The moment Sophie left for work, he found himself at the neighbour’s door again.
Sophie noticed the shift. James was overly accommodating yet distant. She *knew* he was hiding something. Then, catching him sneaking glances at Emily from the window, everything fell into place.
The row erupted in the kitchen.
“Are you sleeping with her?” she spat, jabbing a finger toward the window.
James froze. Stuttered feeble excuses. Too late. She threw him out without hesitation.
“Go to her, then! How convenient—just upstairs. Move in!”
He tried to explain, but Sophie was done listening. As he packed his things, his voice echoed on the landing:
“Emily… Can I stay? She kicked me out.”
Emily, clearly caught off guard, hesitated before opening the door.
Tears streaked Sophie’s cheeks—not from pain, but disappointment. She’d expected a fight, some effort to salvage what they had. Instead, he’d walked away without a word, without shame.
Her decision was firm: *Better alone than with someone who betrays so easily.* Tomorrow, she’d adopt a cat. Or a dog. At least they were loyal—unlike some.
Pride and self-respect outlast fleeting comforts. That’s the lesson Sophie would carry with her.
