Emma kept glancing at the clock. Time dragged like a tortoise, sluggish and sticky. There was still an hour left in the workday.
“Why do you keep checking the time? In a hurry?” asked the head accountant, Margaret Williams.
“No, but—”
“A man? At your age, it’s always a man who makes a woman rush the clock. At my age, we wish we could stop it.” Margaret sighed. “Go on, then. You’re no use to me like this.”
“Thank you!” Emma hurriedly closed the program on her screen.
“Do you love him?” Margaret asked with a sad curiosity.
“I do.” Emma met her boss’s gaze squarely.
Margaret’s desk sat diagonally across from hers, and she had a clear view. The cramped office left no room for rearranging, making Emma feel perpetually under scrutiny, like sitting an exam.
“Then why hasn’t he married you? Doesn’t ask?” Margaret removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Ah, I see. Married. Kids too? Classic. First he hides the truth, then you’re already in love and can’t break it off. Promises to leave when the kids are older, right?”
“How did you know?” Emma gaped.
“I was young once too. Think you’re the first to fall for that line? If a man doesn’t leave his family straight away, he never will. Accept it. Walk away yourself.”
“But… I love him.”
“When he tires of you—or God forbid, his wife finds out—it’ll hurt far worse. At least this way, you keep your dignity. Trust me. And don’t go wrecking your karma.” Margaret replaced her glasses, turning stern again.
“Think it over. Don’t be late Monday.” She buried herself in paperwork.
“Love…” Margaret murmured, shaking her head as the door clicked shut behind Emma.
Emma raced down the stairs, waved at the security guard, and burst into the May sunshine. She spotted Jake’s car immediately and hurried over.
“Finally. Felt like I was waiting forever—stuck out here like a sore thumb,” Jake grumbled as she slid into the passenger seat.
He turned the ignition, pulled away from the office, and merged into traffic.
“Where are we going?” Emma asked. “Your call made no sense.”
“Surprise.” Jake shot her a promising look.
That one glance sent her heart fluttering, warmth spreading through her chest.
Soon, the city blurred behind them. The car veered onto a narrow country lane, winding through dense trees.
Emma watched the road unfurl, wishing they could drive forever—just the two of them. After a while, a cluster of cottages appeared.
“Here we are,” Jake said brightly.
“You have a cottage?”
“No. A mate’s. His wife’s due any day—they won’t be heading out here for a while. So, it’s ours for the weekend.”
“And your wife? Just lets you vanish for days?” Emma eyed him skeptically.
He parked by a tall wooden gate.
“Two nights and a whole day ahead of us.” Jake leaned in, kissing her.
“Two nights and a day,” she thought bleakly. Then, back to the same old…
Breaking the kiss, Jake stepped out, unloading bags from the boot. Emma followed, inhaling the crisp air—grass, leaves, something nostalgic, like her grandmother’s village.
“Two nights and a day! So much time!” she thought suddenly, giddy, hardly believing her luck.
“Like it?” Jake grinned, relishing her reaction. “Take this, let’s head in.” He handed her a bag and shouldered a duffel, unlocking the gate.
“You’ve been here before?”
“Course. We’re mates.”
“With your wife, or—”
“Emma, don’t start. Don’t ruin it.” He pushed the gate open, ushering her inside.
The cottage was quaint.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll sort the fridge. Loos outside, sorry.”
Silence wrapped around them, thick and heavy. *Why dwell on what can’t change? Just enjoy the moment*, Emma thought, taking in the space. Dried flowers in a vase, patterned curtains, a checkered tablecloth. A small stove divided the kitchen nook from the bedroom. A worn rug hung above the bed…
Simple, cozy—familiar, like she’d been here before.
“I’d stay here forever,” Emma whispered that night, nestled against Jake. “Just us. No one between us.”
“Mhm,” he mumbled, half-asleep.
Emma woke first, listening to the quiet, careful not to stir. *Missing geraniums on the windowsill*, she mused. *A crocheted tablecloth with tassels…*
A muffled ringtone shattered the dawn. Jake jolted awake, fumbling for his phone in his jeans.
“Yeah… No, what noise? Just grabbing water… Call you later.” He tossed the phone aside.
Margaret was right, Emma thought bitterly. One more night, then back to stolen moments.
The phone rang again. Jake ignored it.
“Answer it,” she said.
He rolled over, pulling her into a kiss. The ringing stopped, then started anew.
“Answer.” Emma wriggled free.
With a sigh, Jake snatched the phone. She didn’t listen, slipping on his shirt and stepping outside. Dawn hadn’t yet crested the trees. Birds sang, a woodpecker tapped in the distance. Emma memorized the scents, the sounds—might never have this again.
“There you are.” Jake wrapped his arms around her, warm through the fabric. She leaned back, eyes closed, perfectly content.
Inside, his phone trilled again. The embrace loosened. He left, the morning’s magic dissolving.
Margaret’s words echoed: *”Being the mistress gets old fast. Crumbs from his table won’t satisfy you forever. Walk away… Save your dignity. Or it’ll hurt worse.”*
Emma dressed, checked the room, grabbed her purse.
“Where you going? I turned it off. She won’t call back,” Jake said.
She paused in the doorway.
“Home.”
“I’ll drive you.” He looked hurt.
“No need.” She shut the door, hurried down the path.
How far to the main road? Maybe she’d hitch a ride. Maybe he’d chase her. She glanced back—empty. The cottages vanished behind trees.
Her heels ached. Jake hadn’t warned her—no chance to change.
A cloud smothered the sun. Raindrops fell. No umbrella. *Should’ve stayed*. She glanced again. *Where is he?*
The downpour drenched her. Tears blended with rain.
An engine roared behind her—she barely heard it. A short honk made her jump.
“Need a lift?” a man called from the car.
Too cold to think, she climbed in.
The heater kicked on. Gratefully, she glanced at the driver.
“Someone hurt you?”
She stared at the wipers.
“Only someone deeply hurt would get in a stranger’s car in the woods.”
Emma stiffened. “Stop. Let me out.”
Trees walled the road. Darkness seemed imminent.
“Where’ll you go? Miles to the main road. Forest all around.” He pulled over.
The heat stifled her. She opened the door—rain stung her skin.
“Won’t find another ride. You’ll catch your death. I’m in a hurry.”
“Wife waiting?” Emma sneered, not moving. “Or the mistress?”
Stupid. He’d done nothing.
“My daughter’s waiting. Close the door.”
He looked calm, harmless. She relented.
“Didn’t mean to scare you. But a woman alone in the woods…”
Silence.
“Dropped my mum at her place. Wanted to be back before my girl woke.”
“How old?”
“Eleven.”
“Her mum?”
“Died a year and a half ago.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I wanted to die too. But what then? My girl… You’ll survive. Everything happens for a reason.”
The city emerged. His phone rang.
“Morning, Mouse. Be home soon.” He pocketed it. “My daughter. Name’s Max.”
“Emma.”
“Quick stop at mine, then I’ll drop you.”
“Just a bus stop’s fine.”
“Soaking wet on a bus? I’ll drive you. Done enough today.”
His flat was in a high-rise. He disappeared inside. Emma wondered: *Why didn’t Jake follow? Did he ever love me? Was Margaret right?*
Max returned with a girl. She clambered into the back, greeting Emma.
“Why are you wet?”
“Got caught in the rain. Your dad rescued me.”
“I’m Mary-Veronica. What’s your name?”
“Beautiful name. I’m Emma.”
“Everyone calls me Mary. Second name’s my mum’s.”
They chatted, reaching Emma’s flat.
“Thanks,” she said, steppingEmma stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her, and for the first time, she truly believed that letting go was the bravest thing she could do.
