**Meeting Old Friends**
The engine hummed drowsily, the car filled with the scent of leather and air freshener. Grey tarmac streaked with white lines rushed beneath the wheels as the sun climbed, promising a warm summer’s day. Emily leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.
“Get some rest. We’ve still got twenty minutes,” said William, glancing at his wife.
“I’d rather have slept at home, in my own bed. It’s a bank holiday, after all. You could’ve gone alone—these are your friends, anyway,” she murmured without opening her eyes.
“What would I do there without you? Everyone’s bringing their wives. I thought you and Olivia got on well. Besides, nothing beats a day out in nature, not cooped up indoors.” He paused. “It’s been ages since we all got together. Remember the old days? Oh, and Chris is bringing his new wife. Did I mention? Imagine—married at last. I’m curious to see who finally tied him down.”
Emily sat up, intrigued. “You’ve seen him already?”
“Briefly. No time for a proper chat. But I’d love a good catch-up, just like before—sitting by the fire with a guitar. Ah, those were the days.”
“Now you’ll be doing it every weekend again,” Emily muttered.
“Come off it. What’s wrong with that? We’ve been mates since uni. Known each other forever. When your mum was ill, Chris didn’t hesitate to help with the hospital bills.”
Emily sighed and sank back. “True. Chris is a good man. But James and Olivia…”
“What’s wrong with them?”
“Like they’re not a real couple, just playing house. They don’t seem… right together.”
“Never noticed. Seems fine to me. You know, Olivia and Chris used to date. God, they were mad for each other—we thought they’d marry straight out of uni. Then it all fell apart. Olivia ended up with James.”
“You never told me that.” Emily turned to face him.
“It was years ago. Ancient history.”
The engine’s steady purr lulled Emily back into silence, eyes shut. She startled awake as the car jolted onto a dirt road, the dense pines lining it like a wall, blocking the sun.
“I forgot how lovely it is here,” Emily breathed.
“Told you,” William said, smug, as if he had something to do with the scenery.
The gate stood open—they were expected. William parked beside two other cars. Everyone was already here. From the cottage, Chris hurried toward them, arms wide like he meant to hug the car itself.
“Finally! We almost left without you.” He clapped William on the back, then turned to Emily. “You look radiant, as always. Brought enough food to feed an army?” He laughed, taking bags from them.
Inside, Olivia and a young woman bustled about with armfuls of cushions and blankets.
“Oh! William, Emily, hello!” Olivia called.
The air filled with laughter and overlapping chatter.
“Right, ladies, you sort things here—we’re off fishing,” Chris announced.
Olivia groaned. “Typical.”
“We won’t be long. Just a bit of man-time. You’ll manage without us—we’ve done our part: marinated the meat, set up the grill, stocked the fridge. Your turn now.”
Once the men left, Olivia set a bottle of red on the table. “Shall we toast to new company?”
“I’d prefer white, actually. Red gives me a headache,” said the youngest of them—Lily, the new wife.
“Got you covered.” Olivia disappeared and returned with a chilled bottle.
“Do you know her well?” Emily nodded toward Olivia’s retreating back.
“A bit. She’s visited us a couple of times.”
“Oh?” From the car conversation, Emily had gathered they’d only just returned from their honeymoon.
“Two weeks ago,” Lily confirmed.
Olivia reappeared, triumphant with the white wine. The women sipped and debated the meal plan, Olivia dominating the discussion—too pointedly, Emily thought, as if asserting her seniority over Lily. It grated, but Emily held her tongue, curious about Lily.
When the table was set, they relaxed, waiting. And what do women talk about? Men, of course.
“Lily, watch yourself,” Olivia said with a sigh. “Your husband’s a notorious flirt. Lost count of the girls he’s paraded through our group. All men cheat, mark my words.”
“Why scare her like that?” Emily cut in.
“Does *your* husband cheat?” Lily asked bluntly.
Olivia bristled. “You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”
Lily shot her a strange look but said nothing.
“If William ever cheated, I’d probably forgive him,” Emily mused, steering the storm toward herself. “He’d never leave me anyway.”
Olivia smirked. “Exactly. Men like him don’t stray.”
“If all men cheat, why bother divorcing? You’d just trade one problem for another. William and I know each other inside out—who knows what another man would be like?”
“Not all cheat,” Lily said firmly.
Olivia scoffed. “Wait till the honeymoon phase wears off. You’ll see.”
Lily held her ground. “Only men who need validation cheat.”
“Listen to her, lecturing like she’s been married decades!” Olivia turned to Emily for backup.
“Easy, girls,” James’s voice came from behind them.
All three jumped.
“Where’s the fish?” Olivia demanded.
Chris winked. “Did we promise fish? We said we were *going* fishing, not that we’d catch any.”
The tension broke, laughter returning as the evening rolled on—grilled meat, wine, guitar songs under the pines. Lily gazed adoringly at Chris, oblivious to Olivia’s lingering glances.
*She’s not over him,* Emily thought.
Later, as the wine ran dry, Olivia bolted inside for more. Emily followed, intent on scolding her privately—no need to make scenes.
On the porch, Emily moved quietly, unsure why. Inside, she froze in the kitchen doorway. Olivia fumbled with the wine, then pulled a small vial from her pocket, tipping pills into the bottle.
“What are you doing?” Emily gasped.
Olivia startled, pills scattering. “Just sleeping tablets.”
“For Lily? Have you lost your mind?”
“Keep your voice down!” Olivia hissed. “I only want one night with him. Just one.”
Emily’s stomach dropped. “You’re still seeing him?”
“Always have been. I love him—always have.”
“Then why marry James?”
“Stupid revenge. I got pregnant—Chris didn’t want it. The abortion… ruined me. I can’t have children.”
“God, Olivia… I had no idea.” Emily pulled her close.
“Don’t tell anyone. Just… one night. I can’t live without him.”
“You’ll kill her with that dose!” Emily snatched the bottle.
“Good riddance.”
Lily appeared. “The men sent me to check on you.”
Olivia plastered on a smile. “Couldn’t get the bottle open.”
She shoved past, steering Lily away. Emily watched, sickened.
That night, Emily lay awake, unsettled. A creak outside—she slipped out, finding Lily in the hall, gripping a letter opener.
“What are you doing?” Emily whispered.
Lily startled. “Just… couldn’t sleep.”
Emily took the blade. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
Downstairs, she found Olivia waiting—but not for James.
“He won’t come,” Emily whispered.
Olivia crumpled, sobbing. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Then don’t. He loves *her*. Let go.”
By dawn, the joy had faded. They parted awkwardly, promises to meet again hollow.
A year later, Lily had a daughter. At the christening, Chris couldn’t stop gushing. Olivia, seizing a moment, whispered to Emily: “We’re adopting.”
On the drive home, William grinned. “Maybe we should try for another. Danny’s old enough now.”
Emily smirked. “We’ll see. Unless you’d prefer a younger model?”
The men’s friendship endured, oblivious to the near-catastrophe. They met less often now—with kids in tow. And the women? Well, they had other things to talk about.
