**Diary Entry**
I glanced at the phone in my hand as it buzzed. A notification popped up: Thanks, Johnny! I dont know what Id do without you.
It was my husbands phone, vibrating right in my palm. The senders nameLucyflashed on the screen. The message ended with a pink heart, like a little kiss.
My breath caught. *Lucy? Johnny?* I mightve brushed it off as a distant relative or a colleague if not for one glaring detail: hed never mentioned anyone by that name before. Or had he kept her hidden?
I forced myself to stay calm. I needed the truth first, not assumptions. But my chest tightened with jealousy anyway.
Whos Lucy? I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.
James, sipping his tea at the kitchen table, blinked in confusion.
What?
*Lucy,* I repeated, shoving the phone toward him. Who is she?
His eyes flickeredjust for a secondwith something unreadable before he shrugged.
Oh. Thats just Louise.
I froze.
What *Louise*?
My ex. Theres nothing between us anymore.
I set the phone down and folded my arms.
Your ex calls you *Johnny* and sends heart emojis? You think thats normal?
Another dismissive shrug. Yeah. I lent her some money. She needed help, so I helped.
A hot wave of anger surged through me.
You gave your *ex* money?
Yeah. Whats the big deal?
The *big deal*? I scoffed. Seriously? You think its fine to take from *our* money and hand it to some Lucy?
Finally, he met my eyes.
Emma, youre making a mountain out of a molehill. Weve known each other forever. Why wouldnt I help her?
I laughed, but it was hollow.
Youre *married*, James. To *me*! And yet youre still running after her like you owe her something.
He sighed, irritated, as if explaining to a child.
We didnt end things badly. Shes not a stranger.
And *I* am?
Silence. My hands clenched.
How long has this been going on?
What?
This *lovely* friendship of yours.
He looked away.
Weve always talked. Even before you. I just didnt mention it. Didnt want to upset you.
My whole body burned.
So youve been hiding it for *two years*?
I wasnt *hiding* it. There was no reason to bring it up. Im not cheating. Why are you overreacting?
I took a slow breath, fighting the urge to scream.
How often do you *help* her?
Now and then. Small things. Fixing her laptop, sorting her Wi-Fi.
So my *husband* plays handyman for another woman?
Whats *wrong* with you? he snapped. I helped her out, lent her money! Is that a crime? Id do the same for you!
My voice turned icy.
If you dont see anything wrong with this, then we have very different ideas of what marriage means.
I walked out before he could reply. I couldnt stand the sight of him right then.
That day passed in a bluranger, hurt, confusion. I tried to think rationally, but one question echoed in my mind: *How did I not see this sooner?*
James didnt act guilty. Now that I knew, he didnt even hide speaking to Louisejust treated it like it was nothing.
Over the next fortnight, the pattern became clear. My husband was late from work more often. Every few days, Louise had some emergency only he could fix.
Im going to Louises tonight, he announced over dinner, casual as ever. Her washing machines broken.
I set my fork down slowly.
Are there no repairmen in London?
*Really?* Cant I just help someone?
You can. But *I* cant keep accepting this.
Here we go again! Is this *all* we talk about now?
Yes, I said flatly. Because your ex *always* needs saving. At least you dont share kids.
He sighed but kept eating.
If it was the neighbour or my mum, would you still react like this?
The difference is, they wouldnt call you *every single day.*
Emma, he said, exasperated. Youre acting like Ive cheated.
I dont know if you have. But this isnt normal. And it *hurts*.
He smirked.
You dont trust me.
Have you given me reason to?
Silence settled between us like a thick fog.
Three days later, Louise reappeared.
Louise called, James said offhandedly. Shes buying a fridge but needs help moving it.
I turned to him slowly.
So youre dropping everything to play removal man now?
Whats the issue?
James, do you *seriously* not see the problem?
I see you making a drama out of nothing.
*Im* not the one causing scenes*you* are. And I wont be part of it anymore. If Louise needs you *that* much, youre welcome to move in with her. Save on petrol.
Are you serious?
Deadly.
So youre kicking me out?
No. Im giving you a choice. Be in *this* family, or walk your own path. But I wont have you here anymore.
I left before he could argue. No more excuses, no more manipulation. Maybe he thought honesty meant rubbing it in my face. But to me, it wasnt honestyit was betrayal.
Twenty-four hours passed since our last fight. I sat in the kitchen, staring at my phone. No calls. No messages. He was gone. Maybe to *her*.
After ten days of silence, I understood something: sometimes, walking away isnt a lossits the lesson that teaches you never to settle for less than you deserve.
