Shes simply pulling my husbands strings, fumed Emily.
Emily stared down at her phone, feeling that familiar wave of frustration bubbling up inside her once again.
James had called her three times that evening.
Em, darling, Im so sorry, he said in that weary, guilty voice she knew all too well. I know we planned for the theatre, but Well, Sarah just rangToms running a terribly high temperature. She cant manage on her own. You understand, dont you?
And Emily did understand.
Far too well.
James, we bought these tickets, you remember, she said quietly, forcing her voice to stay calm though inside she was screaming. Weve been waiting for this play for over a month.
I know, sweetheart. Ill make it up to you, honestly I will. But its Tom. I cant just leave him, can I?
When shed hung up, Emily immediately called her friend.
Lucy, can you believe it? Honestly! She paced across the sitting room, gesturing dramatically. Again! Third time this month! Once its his son falling ill, then Sarahs cars broken down, or some other nonsense!
Maybe Tom really is poorly? Lucy suggested gently.
I know that! Of course hes unwell. Children get sick all the timeits normal. But what isnt normal is his ex always calling him! Doesnt she have parents? Friends?
Well
Dont well me! Emily was on her feet again. Shes toying with him! James is too kind, he simply cant see it! She knows hell drop everything and come running. She plays on it, Lucy!
Lucy sighed at the other end.
Are you sure the problem is really her?
Who else, then? Emily froze.
I dont know. Just think on it. If a woman always rings her ex-husband, and he forever drops everything to dash to her sidewell, whos really using whom?
Emily opened her mouth, then shut it, a sharp discomfort twisting inside.
Dont talk daft, Lucy, she snapped. James is just a devoted father. He cant turn away from his child.
All right, all right, Lucy agreed quickly. Just a passing thought.
But that just a thought stuck in Emilys minda tiny, scratchy splinter she couldnt pull free.
James came in long after midnight, looking tired, rumpled, and apologetic.
Im such a fool, forgive me, he said, hugging her from behind, nose tucked against her neck. Ill get tickets againfront row, promise.
Emily said nothing. She gazed out of the window, thinking of how many times shed heard those words before. Five? Ten? Twenty?
And always the same, You understand, dont you?
I understand, she thought. Only, what is it Im meant to understand?
And then, all those little things started piling up.
At first, it was nothing obviousmuch like dust gathering on the mantel. Hardly noticeable, until you ran a finger along and there it was, a grey film.
Emily noticed James had begun hiding his phone in an odd sort of way. He used to leave it whereveron the sofa, the table, even perched on the bath. These days, he carried it everywhere. Even to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen, hed tuck it in his pocket.
James, why do you always take your phone with you? shed asked one night, trying to keep her tone light.
Eh? He jumped a little. Ohjust a habit. At work, theyre always ringing.
All right then.
Another time, shed needed to put their rearranged theatre trip into his calendar, and scrolling through, shed chanced upon remindersPick up Tom from nursery 4pm, Drop documents to Sarah, Call S. about vaccinations.
S. was Sarah.
James, she stirred her tea for ages, sugar long dissolved, Do you remember when my dissertation defence is?
He looked up from his plate.
Dissertation? ErmMay, isnt it?
March. In two weeks.
Ah. Yes, sorry, head like a sieve.
Head like a sievebut Sarahs schedule he knew to the minute.
Then there was the money.
Emily found a statement James had forgotten on the desk. Three transfers of four hundred pounds each. The recipient: S. Parker.
James? she called, holding the slip. Whats this?
He didnt even look ruffled, just sighed.
Ive been helping Sarah. Her mums not wellneeded money for medication. Then Toms activities, you know. Shes all alone with him.
Twelve hundred pounds over three months, James.
So what? Hes my son. Am I meant to watch them struggle?
Emily set the statement down.
No, of course not. Only, its odd you never mentioned it.
I didnt forget! I just knew youd react like this!
Like this sounded as if Emily was being hystericala petty, jealous fool.
And then thered been that day in the car.
Shed slid into the passenger seat and spotted a childs drawing on the back. A house. Flowers. The sun. Three stick figures. Dad. Mum. Tom.
No Emily.
She turned it over in her hands. On the back, in wobbly print: For Daddy. Our Family. Tom.
James? she called softly.
Yes?
Where did this come from?
He glanced back.
Oh, Tom did that. Clever, isnt he? Got proper talent, that boy.
Emily stared at the drawing, then James, then the drawing again.
Jameshes written our family.
Well, yes. Hes only a child. For him, his family is me, Sarah, and himself. Thats how children are.
She laid the picture back, sat upright, buckled herself in, and said nothing for the whole journey.
And then Sarah began appearing in person.
At first it was just onceto pick up Toms things. Then a second timeto discuss summer holidays. Then, was just passing, thought Id pop by.
Sarah was calm, polite, always smiling.
Hello, Emily! shed say, as if they were old friends. Sorry for the intrusion. Is James in?
After these visits, James would become distant, lost in thought, barely speaking.
Whats wrong? Emily would ask.
Nothing. Just tired.
Emily was starting to feel like the odd one out. The interloper.
Then, quite by chance, she overheard a conversation one evening.
James was in the bathroom, door almost closed but not quite. Emily caught the words:
Sarah, dont cry of course Ill help You know Ill always be here.
His voice was gentle, sympathetic. Nearly intimate.
Emily stepped away from the door. She sat down on the sofa, and quite suddenly, she understood.
No one was pulling Jamess strings.
He let thembecause it suited him.
For the next three days, Emily said nothing. She didnt create a scene; she simply watched and waited, like a scientist observing some rare insect under a glassdetached and curious.
This is what she saw:
James remembered Sarahs appointments better than her own. He knew Toms timetable, Sarahs doctors, nursery days, all marked in his diary. But Emilys dissertation date, he forgot.
James was forever messaging, his phone buzzing away. Hed snatch it up, type quickly, face softening into that guilty lookthe look of someone up to something questionable.
One evening, while James was in the shower, his mobile rang. Emily checked the screen.
Sarah.
Almost involuntarily, she answered.
James? Sarahs voice was trembling. James, could you come? I feel awful. I dont know who else to turn to.
Emily said nothing.
James, are you there? I cant do this alone. You always helped me
Emily ended the call. Put the phone back, sat down, and all at once began to laugh.
Oh, how foolish shed been. How blind.
James emerged, damp, towel slung around his waist.
Sarah rang for you, Emily said calmly.
He froze.
You answered?
I did. Emily stood, looked him square in the eye. She was crying. Asked for you. Said she cant manage. Said you were always there.
He stood silent, searching for an explanationEmily saw him working at it.
Look, he started, Sarahs having a hard time. Im all shes got. I cant just leave her in the lurch.
In the lurch? Emily gave a small laugh. James, you two divorced four years ago. Shes not your wife. Shes your ex. You left her long ago.
But Toms our son!
And that means what? Emily stepped closer. That youre obliged to go every time she says the magic word, Tom? That you send her money behind my back? That you know her schedule better than mine?
Youre exaggerating!
Me?
Emily felt something snap inside her. She grabbed her bag and began packing.
You know, James, for ages I blamed her. Thought she was manipulating you. That she was using Tom. That she was the meddling ex who couldnt let go.
She turned back.
But the truth is, it was never just her. Its you. You let her. You wanted it this way. You have two lives: an ex-wife who needs you, and a new one who puts up with it. You wont choose, because this is easier.
Emily, dont go.
Im not going, she said quietly. Im leaving this triangle. Im done being the perpetual outsider. Do you see? I wont fight your ex-wife any longer. Im just stepping away from your little game.
James stood therewet, lost, pitiful.
Em, please. Lets talk.
Theres nothing left to discuss. Emily pulled on her coat. You made your choice long ago. I was simply too thick to see it. But now, my visions perfectly clear.
She opened the door.
Goodbye, James. Give Sarah my regardsshes free to ring you any time now.
The door clicked quietly shut.
A month later, Emily sat in a café with Lucy.
How are you holding up? Lucy asked softly.
Im all right. Emily smiled. Really, I am.
And it was true. The first week had been hardthe ache in her chest, the urge to call, message, go back. But she stood firm. Took a tiny studio flat, picked up extra work, finished her dissertation.
James phoned. Often. He sent long, rambling texts, full of apologies and pleas.
Emily, forgive me. I see it all now. You were right. Lets start over.
Emily no longer replied. Because starting again would be pointless. It had never been about Sarah. The problem was James. Until he understood that for himself, nothing would change.
And how is he? Lucy asked.
Who?
James, of course.
Oh. Emily shrugged. Ive no idea. We dont speak.
Lucy was quiet for a moment.
Do you regret it?
Emily thought for a moment. Did she regret it? No. Curiously, no. What she felt was something else. Relief. Like dropping a heavy rucksack youd been dragging for months.
I made my choice, Emily said, finishing her coffee. For him. And for me.
Lucy smiled.
You did well.
Oh, come off it, Emily laughed. I just grew up, thats all.
James was left on his own.
Sarah, surprisingly, stopped calling so often. Without Emily as the audience, the game lost its point. When James tried to rekindle the old closeness, she was brisk and distant.
You chose her, remember? Sarah said calmly. Live with it. Ive got my own life now. I dont need your help.
James tried repeatedly to win Emily back. Waiting at her flat, loitering near her work, writing endless messages. But Emily remained resolute.
James, let me go, she told him at last. And let yourself go too. Were wrong for one another. You wanted two lives at once. I just want oneone thats real.
Emily walked through the dusky city, pondering how strangely things had turned out. Shed been so afraid of being alone, so afraid of losing James. But once he was gone, she realised shed lost nothing.
Because someone who cannot make a choice can offer nothing real.
And she deserved only what was real.
