Betrayal with a View
Emily couldn’t sit still—she paced the flat like a caged animal. Her husband’s recent behaviour unsettled her. Lately, Daniel had been unusually attentive: helping with chores, cooking elaborate meals, bringing home flowers. All these gestures of care only made her wary. *He’s definitely guilty of something*, she thought, wandering to the window. Her gaze dropped to the street below—and her stomach lurched. She recoiled sharply. *Could he really do this?* she whispered, unable to believe what she’d just seen.
Behind her, a woman’s voice broke the silence. It was his wife—Charlotte.
Daniel stood by the window, watching as Emily, their neighbour, walked her little terrier. Charlotte joined him, peering out, and immediately tensed.
*What’s on your mind?* she asked, her voice icy.
*Work,* he sighed, avoiding her eyes. *A colleague made a mess of things. Now I’m stuck fixing it.*
She studied him closely. Something in his tone and expression gave him away. But she only nodded and retreated to the kitchen.
Daniel clenched his jaw, irritation bubbling up. Charlotte had been grating on him lately—sharp, nitpicky. He’d started seeking warmth elsewhere. And he found it in Emily. She was quiet, always smiling, living alone just upstairs.
That evening, a power cut at work sent him home early. He lounged about, then stepped out for air. Emily was in the courtyard. Before he could stop himself, he’d struck up a conversation. It ended with drinks at the pub. Then her flat.
Morning brought guilt like a weight. Their wedding photo hung in the hallway—young, smitten, full of promises. *Forever.* The word now rang hollow.
He made Charlotte’s favourite—shepherd’s pie. When she returned from work, tired but pleased, she praised him, even kissed his cheek. He stood there, forcing a smile, last night replaying in his mind.
A few days later, on his day off, he avoided Emily, disgusted with himself. Yet the pull was magnetic. The moment Charlotte left for work, he found himself at the neighbour’s door again.
Charlotte noticed the shift. Daniel was overly helpful yet distant. She *knew* he was hiding something. Then, catching him sneaking glances at Emily from the window, it all clicked.
The row erupted in the kitchen.
*Are you sleeping with her?* she blurted, jabbing a finger toward the window.
Daniel froze. Then came the stammered excuses, but it was too late. She threw him out without hesitation.
*Go to her, then! Nice and convenient, just upstairs. Move in!*
He tried explaining, but Charlotte was done listening. As he gathered his things, his voice echoed faintly on the landing:
*Emily… Can I stay? She kicked me out.*
Emily, clearly stunned, hesitated—then opened the door.
Tears streaked Charlotte’s cheeks. Not from hurt, but disappointment. She’d thought he might fight for them. Instead, he’d walked away without a word. No shame. No effort.
*Better alone than with someone who betrays so easily,* she decided. Tomorrow, she’d get a cat. Or a dog. At least they’d be loyal.
