He needed a married man.
Shall we go somewhere this weekend? Maybe to the pictures? Emily asked, settling beside James on the sofa.
Lately they had drifted apart, and she wanted to mend the gap, to reclaim the closeness they once shared.
Sorry, Im tied up, James said without looking up from his phone, his eyes glued to a socialmedia feed. I promised Mum Id help with the roof. Winters coming and its leaking again. Ill be stuck there all weekend.
Emily nodded, masking her disappointment. A cold knot tightened inside her, but she forced it away.
On Friday evening she saw James off to his mothers. His outfit caught her eye: fresh trousers and the expensive shirt shed given him for his birthday, a fine piece from a highstreet shop.
Youre really going up on that roof? she said, eyeing the fabric. Wont you ruin it? Theres tar, mud
Ill change later, James muttered, snatching his car keys and avoiding her gaze. Mum has work clothes in the shed. Dont worry about the shirt.
She kissed him at the door, the usual ritual of their fiveyear marriage, though his embrace felt rushed, as if he were eager to flee. When the door shut, she leaned against it, eyes closed, sensing something had shifted.
In the bedroom she collapsed onto the bed, the scent of her husbands aftershave still clinging to the pillowcase. For two months James had grown distantcolder, less affectionate, staying later at work. All signs pointed to one thing: infidelity. A new woman, perhaps. She fought the thought, refusing to believe the obvious.
Its nonsense, she whispered to the pillow, trying to convince herself. Hes just exhausted, thats why hes on edge. Its the autumn blues.
Just yesterday hed declared his love, calling her the best thing that ever happened to him, words he repeated almost mechanically. People change, Emily knew that. But James? The James shed built a life with, planning children and old age together? She brushed off the betrayal, telling herself she was just overthinking.
On Saturday morning Emily went to the market before the crowds. She filled her trolley with Jamess favourite stew meat, fresh veg for a salad, even an expensive fillet they saved for special occasions. Back home she spent the afternoon cooking with meticulous care. The stew turned rich and smoky, just as her motherinlaw Margaret liked it; the meatballs rose fluffy, a splash of cream in the mix as her own grandmother had taught her. She packed everything into containers.
Ill take these over, she decided. James said his mum would be at a friends all day and hed be up on the roof until evening. No one would be around to eat.
She loaded the car, checked for spills, and drove out of town. The drive to Margarets cottage took about forty minutes on the Away, then a rough country lane. Margaret lived in a modest village, a cosy old house with a large garden. When Emily pulled up to the familiar green gate, the first thing she noticed was the absence of Jamess car in the courtyard.
She stepped out, peered through the gate. The roof looked brand newmetal tiles glinting in the autumn sun, gutters freshly installed. Margaret, in a worn dressing gown, was humming while tending the vegetable patch.
Emily slipped back into the car and left without saying a word, the food still warm on the seat. A surge of hurt and anger knotted inside her. James had lied, brazenly. Why? The answer was obvious, but she clung to a sliver of hope.
She tried to rationalise the whole drive home. Maybe the roof was finished? Maybe hed gone for supplies? Yet the pristine roof spoke of work done weeks ago, not yesterday.
On Sunday evening James trudged back, exhausted but smug, a faint hint of foreign cologne on his coat. His shirt was still crisp, a little rumpled.
What a day, he said, kicking off his shoes and not looking at her. Can you believe it? I only finished the roof by Sunday evening. Itll last twenty years, Mums thrilled.
Good job, Emily replied from the kitchen, watching every nuance. How about we visit your mum together next weekend? Id like to catch up, see your work.
James hesitated, then grudgingly agreed, rubbing his necka nervous habit.
Sure shell probably be busy with jams and pickles.
No worries, well be quick, Emily said, though dread curled in her chest.
All week she rehearsed the conversation, choosing each word. James went about his routine, returning home each night, avoiding her eyes, turning his back to the wall in bed.
The following Saturday was bright and warm. They drove in silence, James drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, adjusting the rearview mirror. Emily watched the golden fields through the window, rehearsing how to expose the truth.
At the kitchen table Margaret bustled as alwayslaying out salads, slicing bread, pulling jars of pickles from the cellar. James sat stiff, barely eating, poking at his plate.
Margaret, Emily began, hows the new roof? James mentioned you replaced it last weekend. Must have cost a pretty penny?
Silence hung heavy over the table. Margaret looked puzzled, then at James, then at Emily.
What roof? We changed it back in June when you both were away on holiday. I even called you about the colour of the tiles
Mum, youre mixing things up, James interjected, his voice trembling.
Oh dear, Im all confused, dear, Margaret flustered, seeing James turn pale. I meant the old roof, the one we patched a little last weekend
No need to make up stories, Emily cut in, her eyes fixed on James. Ive put the pieces together. She turned to him, staring straight ahead. Are you cheating on me?
James mumbled something unintelligible, eyes down to his plate, fists clenched under the table. Emily stood, her legs barely holding her, but she forced herself upright.
Honestly, I never expected this from you. Weve always been open, or so I thought. If you found someone else, you should have said so. Id have divorced you without drama.
Emily, dont be so harsh! Margaret erupted, leaping from her chair. He slipped, it happens! Men are all the same. Forgive him, keep the family together. All men stray, itll pass, trust my experience
No, Emily said firmly, moving toward the door. I cant forgive this betrayal. James, stay with your mother; Ill bring your things in a few days. Dont come back.
Emily, wait! James lunged, grabbing her wrist at the gate, turning her around. Im sorry! It was some delusion, I didnt know what I was doing! She means nothing to me, truly! It was a stupid mistake!
Emily ripped her hand free, tears glimmering, but she held them back.
You deceived and betrayed me. I dont care whether it was a hallucination, a eclipse, or retrograde Mercury. You hurt me, shattered our life, and I will not forgive you. Live with that.
She walked toward the bus stop, not looking back. James stood by the gate, head bowed, while Margaret muttered about youth and passions, insisting everything would sort itself out.
At home Emily methodically packed Jamess belongingsclothes, shaving kit, his favourite comicbook mug. She boxed everything and, the next day, delivered them to Margarets cottage. Margaret tried again to reason, even shedding a few tears.
Think it over, Emily! Let James come back, talk calmly. Youve been together five years!
Decision made, Emily snapped, unloading the last box. Ill file for divorce on Monday. Nothing will bind us anymore. And please, dont call.
James lingered in the doorway of his mothers house, a crumpled tee shirt on his back, looking despondent. Emily didnt glance his way, turned, and left his life forever.
The divorce was swiftno joint assets, no children, thank heavens. The flat had been Emilys before marriage, so there was nothing to split. James offered to meet through a solicitor, but she refused.
Three months later, while having tea at a café near work, she ran into Olivia, a mutual acquaintance.
Heard about James? Olivia asked, stirring her coffee, eyes bright for gossip.
No, I havent, and I dont want to, Emily replied. Olivia lowered her voice.
Guess what, he was dumped right after your divorce! He wanted a married man, something about the thrill, the mystery Now he lives with his mum, lost his job. A sad sight, truly
Emily shrugged, sipping her green tea.
Thats not my problem any more.
She paid and stepped out onto an autumn street, cold sunlight glinting on the pavement. Life, she thought, went onwithout lies, without betrayal, without James.
