Time to Fix a Mistake
Emma didn’t want to tell her mother what had happened at the lake. When she got home, she tried to slip quietly into her room, but her mum heard the rustling in the hallway and stepped out from the kitchen.
“What’s wrong? You’re as white as a sheet,” her mum pressed her hands to her chest, staring at her daughter in alarm.
“It’s nothing. I just swam too long.” Emma brushed past her and shut herself in her room.
The next day, James came by to check on her.
“Why wouldn’t she be feeling well?” Mum asked, surprised.
“Er—well, she nearly drowned in the lake yesterday,” James said, unaware of his blunder.
“Don’t exaggerate. I just swallowed some water,” Emma shot him a warning look.
“I—I actually came to ask you to the cinema,” James quickly corrected himself.
“Emma, of course, go. No point sitting around at home. It’s lovely outside,” Mum said, smiling at James in a slightly too-eager way.
The thing was, James was the son of a wealthy, well-known businessman, and his attention gave Mum high hopes for Emma’s secure and prosperous future.
From then on, James dropped by often, inviting her out—swimming, riding his motorbike, cafés… It wasn’t that she was mad about him, but the fact he’d picked her out of all the girls was flattering. Any of them would’ve given their right arm to go dancing or to the cinema with him.
That evening, Mum scolded Emma for turning her nose up at a lad like James.
“Good family. Never want for anything. And the way he looks at you—steady, reliable. I’d trust him with the most precious thing I have—my only daughter. If he proposes, don’t be an ungrateful fool,” Mum finished her lecture.
“But I don’t love him, Mum,” Emma tried to argue.
“I don’t believe for a second a handsome lad like that doesn’t appeal to you. I married for love—great, passionate love—and where’s that got me?”
When James proposed, Emma said yes. Mum’s words had done their work. In the flurry of wedding preparations, she sometimes felt like she was playing a part, as if none of it was real and would soon be over. Meanwhile, Mum was over the moon.
Emma knew straightaway James’s mother and elder sister didn’t like her. She wondered why they’d even let him marry her. Probably because James was the baby of the family—his mother’s golden boy—so she hadn’t put her foot down, for fear of losing him.
They didn’t live in his family’s grand house but in a flat James had inherited from his grandfather. Emma was secretly relieved—her mother-in-law unnerved her.
Everything might’ve been fine, but years passed, and Emma couldn’t get pregnant. Her mother-in-law blamed her entirely, recommending the best doctors—who delivered devastating news. Emma was crushed with guilt.
James never openly criticised her, but she could see his pain. He withdrew, spending more time at his father’s firm, left to him and his sister when Dad died of a heart attack three years ago. He visited his mother alone, which suited Emma fine. She could only guess what was said about her.
She suspected James had other women but—no proof, no crime. He was always careful, protecting the family name from gossip.
She tried moving back to Mum’s. But Mum called her suspicions nonsense. “Jealousy’s an ugly thing,” she said. “James is handsome—women’ll flirt. It doesn’t mean anything. Once you have a child, everything’ll sort itself out.” And she sent Emma back.
So they carried on for five years, pretending to be the perfect, happy couple.
When Emma finally reached breaking point, ready to demand a divorce, James’s mum died. Turned out she’d been seriously ill for ages—but no one had thought to tell her.
James spent whole days organising the funeral, coming home only to sleep.
***
Emma woke but lay still, listening to the shower running. Before she knew it, she drifted off again.
“Why aren’t you up?” James strode in, smelling of shower gel and aftershave.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go? Your mother never liked me. Thought I wasn’t good enough for you. She was right.” Emma opened her eyes, watching him.
“Right about what?” James tossed his robe onto the bed, rummaging through the wardrobe.
She was used to his fit body—his charm had long since worn off.
“That I don’t belong. James, no one’ll even notice if I’m not there.” She sat up.
“The whole family will be at the funeral. You *are* family. Get dressed—we’ll be late.” He didn’t even glance at her.
“I’ll never be part of your family. You know that. How can you be late to a burial?” She sighed but got up.
The scent of fresh coffee hit her as she left the bathroom.
“Drink up and get ready.” James slid a steaming mug toward her, glancing pointedly at his expensive watch.
In the car, James played classical music—fitting Emma’s sombre mood. She didn’t feel like talking. Leaning back, she pretended to doze. When they pulled up to the big house, several expensive cars were already parked outside.
Just had to get through today. One less enemy now her mother-in-law was gone.
“You go ahead. I’ll just freshen up,” Emma said, fishing out her compact.
“Don’t be long. And lock the car,” James said, stepping out.
She knew she’d briefly be the centre of attention—then forgotten. Still, best to prepare. She touched up her makeup, tucked a handkerchief in her pocket for appearances. She wouldn’t cry.
As she stepped out, she spotted old Mrs. Whittaker from down the road. Emma hadn’t realised she was still alive. Fifteen years ago, her husband and son died in a crash—since then, people called her odd, half-mad.
“Hello,” Emma said as the woman neared.
Mrs. Whittaker stopped, studying her face.
“I’m Emma, James’s wife—”
“I know who you are. Here for the funeral?” She nodded toward the house.
“Yeah.” Emma looked at it too.
Behind a twitching curtain, someone was watching. She shouldn’t keep them waiting. Slamming the car door, she hurried toward the house.
“Married the wrong one, girl. You’ve been deceived. Time to fix the mistake. Fix it, and the children’ll come.” The words froze Emma in her tracks.
“Fix what? What deception?” She called after the retreating figure.
But Mrs. Whittaker didn’t turn. Puzzled, Emma glanced at the house, then followed.
James stood in the hall, talking to a stranger. People whispered, making final arrangements. No one paid Emma any attention—just as expected. Coming here was a bad idea. So was marrying James.
***
Her friend had invited her to the lake with a group. It was boiling. The lads drank beer and chatted; the girls sunbathed, stealing glances at the boys—especially James.
Her friend whispered that Sarah had been chasing him for ages.
“Fancy a swim?” Her friend dashed off. Emma and Sarah followed reluctantly.
“Bet you can’t swim across?” Sarah smirked at Emma.
Her look said, *You? As if.* Without waiting, she plunged in, splashing furiously. Emma and her friend waded in after her. Soon, her friend fell behind, but Emma pressed on.
Mid-lake, she realised she wouldn’t catch Sarah and slowed. Then something brushed her leg. Too deep for weeds. Again, something pressed against her…
Rumours said a heartbroken girl drowned there, dragging swimmers under. No one had seen her—just a parents’ tale to scare kids. Now Emma remembered, panicking. Thrashing, she choked on splashing water, went under—
She woke on the shore. James hovered over her, frantic. She coughed, chest burning. Everyone fussed—except Sarah, smirking from a distance.
James took her home on his motorbike…
***
At the cemetery, no one noticed Emma. She stood apart, studying relatives she’d never met. No chance to slip away—James would have her hide.
Finally, the eulogies ended, traditions observed. A mountain of wreaths piled high. Relatives filed out.
Emma lingered. Ahead, James guided his grieving sister. At the gates, everyone dispersed to cars. James bundled his sister into his, searching for Emma. The last thing she wanted was sharing a ride. She waved him off.
His car left first; others followed. Emma climbed in with distant relatives. Passing a chemist, she asked to stop.
“Don’t wait—it’s not far. I’ve a headache.” She forced a grimace, hopping out before they could protest.
Alone, she looked around. The bus stop was close. If questioned, she’d say she felt faint. But—her handbag was still in JamesAs she turned toward the bus stop, a familiar voice called her name, and when she looked up, she saw Tom standing there, his steady gaze holding the promise of a new beginning, and in that moment, she knew she’d finally found the courage to walk away for good.
