**No Air Left**
Emily turned the key slowly and stepped inside, careful not to make noise. But no matter how softly she tried, the lock still clicked. She tiptoed through the dark flat, shedding her coat and shoes, heading toward her room—until a switch flicked behind her, the sound like a gunshot in the silence.
“Emily, where were you? It’s so late. I called Daisy—you lied to me.” Her mum’s voice was sharp in the dark.
Emily froze, took a shaky breath, and turned to face her.
“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” she shot back.
“How could I sleep when you’re out God knows where? I was worried.” Her mother’s tired eyes searched hers.
“I’m an adult, Mum. Stop treating me like a kid.”
“Right, an adult.” Her mum waved a hand dismissively and retreated to her room, leaving the door ajar.
Emily hesitated, then followed, sinking onto the sofa beside her.
“Sorry. I lost track of time.”
Her mum sighed. The harsh overhead light etched deep lines under her eyes, making her look even more worn.
“I wasn’t alone. I was with James. We went to the cinema, then just walked around. You don’t need to worry.”
“James?”
“Yeah. Met him two weeks ago. He’s… interesting. Knows everything.” A faint smile touched Emily’s lips as she leaned into her mum, resting her head.
“So last time, when you said you were with Daisy—?”
“Sorry.”
“I get it. But why lie? Does he go to uni with you?”
“No, he’s already graduated. Works in finance.”
“So he’s older?” Her mum exhaled, watching her. “Bring him round. Let me meet him.”
“Of course. You’ll love him.”
“Didn’t even notice when you grew up,” her mum murmured, brushing a hand over Emily’s hair. “Get some sleep.”
“Night, Mum.” Emily kissed her cheek and slipped away.
Alone in bed, she stared at the ceiling, replaying every word, every kiss, lost in the glow of it all.
The next morning, her mum was already gone when she woke. Emily ate the breakfast left out for her and grabbed her phone.
“Hey, you at work?” she chirped.
“Yeah.” James’ voice was clipped.
“Bad time?” She stiffened at his icy tone.
“Very. I’ll call you later.” He hung up.
*”You”*—not *”you.”* Like she was a stranger.
*He’s got someone there,* she reasoned, shoving her phone aside. She tried reading, but the words blurred. She called Daisy instead, arranging to meet.
They were mid-ice cream, Emily gushing about how in love she was, when James finally called back.
“Sorry, Em. You caught me at a bad time. Meet tonight?”
“Yes!” she beamed.
When she mentioned her mum wanting to meet him later, James tensed.
“You told her about us? She’s okay with it?” His eyes searched hers.
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
“We’ve only just started. Meeting parents is serious.”
“And we’re *not* serious?”
“No, I am. Completely.” He pulled her close, tucking her face against his chest so she couldn’t see his expression. “Just—parents interrogate you. It’s nerve-wracking.”
“How many girlfriends’ mums have you met?” she teased, poking his side.
“A couple.”
“Got skeletons in your closet, then? Secret ex-wives?” She laughed.
“God, no. Where’d you get that?”
He kissed her then, and any doubts dissolved.
Later, he spun stories about sleepless nights, how he’d never felt like this before, how he’d introduce her to his mum when she was feeling better. He never answered calls at home—didn’t want to upset her after his dad’s death.
Emily clung to every word, picturing their future.
Then came Saturday. James cancelled—*his mum was ill, paramedics came, he couldn’t leave her…*
Mum sliced the cake she’d baked anyway. “He’s a good son. Means he’ll be a good husband.”
Emily forced a bite, then wandered the flat, restless.
On a walk later, she spotted him—pushing a pram, a blonde woman at his side. Emily ducked behind a tree, ice cream dripping.
The truth hit like a fist. *Wife. Baby.*
At his flat the next day, the blonde answered—*”Oh, I thought you were the doctor.”*
Emily fled.
Later, his text: **”What the hell were you thinking?”**
She blocked him.
Months passed. Exams came and went. A trip to Brighton with Mum. A chance meeting with a boy from her hometown.
Most days, she was fine. But sometimes, in quiet moments, the weight of it all crushed her lungs again.
*You didn’t know. Nobody shows you the wreckage at the start.*
*Run. If you can’t run—crawl. Before they break you completely.*
