He Loved, But Not Me
Emily stood by the window, watching her husband, James, chat with their neighbor, Sarah. Again. For the third day in a row. They were standing by Sarah’s car, and she was animatedly telling some story, arms waving. James listened intently, nodding, occasionally laughing.
Emily stepped back so they wouldn’t see her. That familiar feeling settled in her chest—not jealousy, no. Something else, heavier. Understanding.
“Mum, where’s Dad?” asked her daughter, Lily, peeking into the kitchen. “He promised to help me with maths.”
“Out in the garden,” Emily answered, keeping her voice steady. “He’ll be in soon.”
Lily nodded and skipped back to her room. Emily flicked the kettle on and reached for the biscuit tin in the cupboard. Her hands moved on autopilot, but her thoughts were far away.
When James finally walked in, he had that particular smile—pleased, a little distant. The one he only wore after talking to Sarah.
“Hi,” he said, heading straight for the kitchen. “Tea on?”
“Just made it.” Emily set a cup in front of him. “Long chat with Sarah?”
“Not too long. She was telling me about her new job. Can you believe it? She got a position at a marketing agency. At her age, landing something like that!”
There was admiration in his voice. Pride, as if it were his own achievement. Emily stirred her tea silently.
“What will she be doing there?”
“Client manager. She’s got the right qualifications, loads of experience. Sarah’s really impressive—bounced back so quickly after her divorce.”
Sarah. Always Sarah. Their neighbor from across the street, who’d moved in six months ago. A striking woman in her early forties, recently divorced, no kids. Independent, successful, interesting.
Everything Emily had once been, before she became a wife and mother. Not that she regretted her choices, but sometimes…
“Lily’s waiting for you with her maths,” she reminded him.
“Oh, right. Forgot. I’ll go now.”
James finished his tea and disappeared down the hall. Emily stayed at the table, alone. She picked up his cup and noticed a few tea leaves at the bottom. Her gran used to read them when she was little, but Emily didn’t want to know the future—the present was clear enough.
James had fallen in love. Not with her, his wife of seventeen years, but with Sarah. He didn’t realise it yet, or maybe didn’t want to admit it, but Emily saw the signs. The way he’d started dressing smarter, buying new shirts, shaving more often. How he’d find excuses to pop outside whenever Sarah got home from work. The way his eyes lit up when he spoke about her.
They used to light up like that for her.
“Mum, Dad said you’ve got a degree too,” Lily said later, textbook in hand. “Why don’t you work?”
The question caught her off guard. Lily stared at her with the blunt curiosity of a fourteen-year-old.
“I used to, when you were little,” Emily said. “Then I chose to focus on home and family.”
“Isn’t it boring?”
Boring? She’d never asked herself that. After Lily was born, she’d left her job and never gone back. James earned enough. It had felt right—being there, taking care of them.
“No, not boring,” she told her. “There’s always plenty to do.”
“Right. Auntie Sarah says women should be independent. That you shouldn’t lose yourself in family.”
Emily stiffened. When had Lily spoken to Sarah about this?
“When did she tell you that?”
“Yesterday, near the front door. She asked about school, and we got talking. She’s really interesting, isn’t she? Knows loads, been everywhere.”
“Yeah,” Emily agreed. “Interesting.”
That evening, after Lily was in bed, Emily and James sat in the lounge. He scrolled through something on his tablet, she flipped through a magazine. A normal domestic scene, if not for the heavy silence.
“James,” she finally said. “We need to talk.”
He looked up. “About what?”
“Us. Our family.”
“What’s wrong with us?”
She hesitated, choosing her words. How do you tell your husband you see him falling for someone else? That you feel invisible in your own home?
“I think we’ve been drifting apart,” she began carefully.
“Why do you say that?” James frowned. “Everything’s fine. No problems.”
“When was the last time we really talked? Not about bills or chores, but properly?”
“Dunno. Does it matter?”
His indifference stung. The conversation was going nowhere—James didn’t see the problem because he didn’t want to.
“Guess not,” she murmured, turning back to her magazine.
The next day, Emily went to the gym—something she’d been meaning to do for ages. Now, with Lily older and chores lighter, she had time.
In the changing rooms, she ran into Sarah.
“Emily!” Sarah grinned. “Fancy seeing you here! Joining the gym too?”
“Yeah, thought it was time,” Emily forced a smile.
Sarah looked stunning in her workout gear. Toned, effortlessly youthful. Emily couldn’t help comparing herself and felt a pang of inadequacy.
“Hey, why don’t we train together?” Sarah suggested. “More fun with company.”
“Sure,” Emily agreed, though everything in her resisted.
They worked out, then went to the café nearby.
“You’ve no idea how glad I am to finally have a friend round here,” Sarah said, stirring her coffee. “After the divorce, it got so lonely.”
“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” Emily already knew she was prying.
“He cheated,” Sarah said simply. “Didn’t even bother hiding it much. Guess he thought I’d put up with it for the sake of marriage.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No. No point living with someone who doesn’t respect you. Better alone than in a fake marriage.”
Emily stayed quiet, turning the words over. What if James didn’t respect her either? What if she’d just become part of the furniture—a convenient housewife?
“You and James are solid, though?” Sarah asked. “You two seem like such a strong couple.”
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Emily lied, the words sticking in her throat.
“He’s a great man,” Sarah continued. “Smart, kind, thoughtful. You’re lucky.”
There was something in her voice—warmth that hinted at more than neighbourly fondness.
“Yeah, lucky,” Emily echoed, quickly changing the subject.
At home, she studied herself in the mirror. Forty. Not old, but not young. A few extra pounds from pregnancy that never left. Tired eyes that hadn’t sparkled in years.
Their wedding photo sat on the dresser. Young, happy, in love. James had looked at her like she was his whole world.
Now Sarah was.
“Mum, what’s for dinner?” Lily called from the doorway.
“I’ll cook now,” Emily turned away.
Over dinner, James chatted about work. Emily half-listened, pushing salad around her plate. Suddenly, he turned to her:
“How was your day?”
“Went to the gym. Got to know Sarah better.”
“Really?” He perked up. “How is she?”
“Fine. Talked about her divorce.”
“Yeah, rough situation,” James shook his head. “Glad she’s moved on. Sarah’s strong—she’ll manage.”
That admiration again. Emily glanced at Lily—she’d noticed her dad’s tone too.
“Dad, why d’you care so much about Auntie Sarah?” Lily asked bluntly.
James flushed. “I don’t. Just feels bad when people have tough times.”
“Right,” Lily nodded, dropping it.
But Emily saw her thinking. Kids sensed lies better than adults.
Later, washing up while James scrolled on his tablet, he suddenly called her over:
“Em, come look!”
She dried her hands.
“Check out these flats in that new development,” he said, showing her the screen. “Maybe we should think about moving?”
“Why?” Emily frowned. “This place is fine.”
“Just an idea. Might find something better.”
She glanced at the listings. The area where his ex-wife used to live. Where Sarah rented now.
“Don’t think we need to move,” Emily said. “Lily’s settled at school, my friends are here.”
“Yeah, suppose you’re right,” he conceded, though reluctantly.
Emily went back to the dishes, heavy thoughts swirling. James was already imagining life near Sarah. Just fantasies now, but still—a beginning.
That weekend, she and Lily went shopping. In the clothing section, Lily asked:
“Mum, why don’t you buy nice clothes?”
“I do.”
“All yours are boring. Beige, grey. Auntie Sarah always looks amazing.”
“Her life’s different,” Emily said. “She dresses up for work.”
“What about you? Even for Dad?”
The question hit homeOne evening, as Emily walked past Sarah’s house, she saw James through the window, laughing with his arm around Sarah—and in that moment, she finally let go of what was never truly hers to keep.
