**A Woman’s Cunning**
To this day, Daniel remains unmarried. Though he once intended to wed quite seriously, he never managed to understand the logic of his fiancée.
When he proposed to Emily, they had been together for nearly a year. The initial passion had settled, and Daniel finally felt certain she was the one he wanted by his side—someone whose voice and presence he couldn’t do without.
“Emily, will you marry me?” he pressed eagerly, dropping to one knee with a velvet box in hand, its contents glinting in the light, and a lavish bouquet in the other.
Emily hadn’t exactly been caught off guard—she’d sensed it coming—but she was still pleasantly surprised.
“Of course, darling,” she agreed without hesitation.
Emily was a striking woman, and Daniel matched her well—tall, athletic, with a sharp haircut and a preference for casual, sporty attire.
“I hope we have a daughter who looks just like you,” he grinned.
“Anytime,” Emily laughed.
Wedding preparations began, and Daniel soon discovered just how much effort they required.
“Emily, this is madness,” he groaned as she dragged him from shop to shop. “I never knew it’d be so much fuss.”
Veils, rings, shoes, ribbons, stockings—apparently, none of it was optional. He’d imagined it all far simpler: propose, hand over the ring, sign the papers at the registry office, and be done.
Finally, the whirlwind slowed, leaving them a brief respite before the big day. But then Emily returned from work with news.
“Dan, my boss is sending me on a week-long training course—out in the countryside. A bit of time apart might even do us good before the wedding. Test our feelings, so to speak.”
“Bloody perfect timing,” Daniel muttered. “Does he not know we’re getting married?”
“He does,” Emily countered smoothly. “But it’s not like I’ll be gone on the day. And this training could mean a promotion—better pay. We could use the money.”
“While I’m away, Sophie will keep an eye on you,” she added after a pause.
“Sophie? Brilliant,” Daniel said flatly, irritation creeping in. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Trust doesn’t come into it,” Emily smirked. “But leaving you unsupervised would be reckless. So, Sophie’s got you covered.”
Sophie, Emily’s best friend since school, was to be her maid of honour. Daniel had never warmed to her—not that she wasn’t attractive, with her bright blonde hair and fit figure—but she was *always* around. Emily brought her to dinners, even let her sleep over.
Daniel had joked darkly once, “Hope Sophie won’t be joining us on our wedding night?”
He saw Emily off at the airport—Sophie, of course, tagging along. Once Emily had boarded, Daniel drove Sophie home in silence.
Three days passed. Bored, Daniel rang some mates and was promptly invited fishing.
“Perfect,” he thought. “A proper lads’ weekend—beer, banter, the works.”
But on Thursday evening, Sophie called.
“Dan, you alright?”
“Never better,” he replied.
“Need anything? I could—”
“Nope. All good.”
“Right. Well, I’ve got a favour to ask.”
Daniel tensed.
“Our mutual friend from school—Lucy—is celebrating her birthday at a countryside pub. My car’s in the shop. Fancy driving me? Emily said it’s fine.”
Daniel suppressed a groan. He’d rather be knee-deep in river water than play chaperone.
“Come on, Dan,” Sophie coaxed. “Everyone’ll be paired up, and I’ll be the odd one out. Be a sport.”
Reluctantly, he agreed.
Friday evening arrived, and Sophie climbed into his car, dressed to impress and drenched in perfume.
“Alright,” he conceded. “Spending the evening with her might not be so bad.”
At the pub, Daniel knew no one. Sophie, however, flitted about, greeting everyone. He nursed his discomfort until she slid a champagne flute toward him.
“Drink up.”
“I’m driving, Sophie.”
“One glass won’t hurt.”
Under the weight of amused glances, he drank. Then another. And another.
By night’s end, he was sloshed.
“You’re wrecked, Dan,” Sophie murmured. “No worries—I booked us a room.”
He barely remembered stumbling inside. He woke at dawn, head pounding, to the sound of the shower.
The bathroom door swung open. Sophie stepped out, dripping wet, utterly bare.
Daniel froze.
She crossed the room, took his hands, and placed them on her shoulders. What followed was a blur of heat and poor decisions.
They drove home in silence, both sated but uneasy.
“Sophie,” Daniel finally said. “What do we tell Emily?”
“The truth,” she shrugged.
“She’ll be furious—especially with you. You were meant to *watch* me.” He smirked bitterly. “Tell me this wasn’t planned.”
“Typical,” Sophie scoffed. “Always blaming the woman.”
When Emily returned, Daniel met her at the airport with flowers. Her kiss was frosty.
The drive home was stiff, their conversation hollow.
Inside, she dropped her suitcase and slapped him hard.
“I set you up,” she admitted coldly. “Sophie was my test. Wanted to see if you were worth keeping.”
“And?”
“You failed. Just like the rest.”
Daniel was furious—not at his own weakness, but at her deception. No man claimed sainthood, but neither, it seemed, did some women.
“Why?” he wondered. “Did she ever really want me?”
Three years on, he’s still single. He falls in love, dates—but when marriage looms, he backs away. Emily, too, remains unwed.
**Lesson learned:** Trust, once tested, rarely survives intact.
