“Whats got into you? Weve been married ten years! What mistress? Youre more than enough for me!”
Emily couldnt shake the gnawing suspicion. She felt it in her bonesher husband was lying. The uncertainty ate at her until, one evening, she finally confronted him.
She demanded the truth, but he only laughed it off.
“Whats got into you? Weve been married ten years! What mistress? Youre more than enough for me!”
James spoke with such sincerity, his smile unbroken, his eyes steady. There wasnt a single crack in his performance. And yet, something twisted inside her.
Emily wasnt one to leave things to fate. If there was a truth to uncover, shed find it. But how?
After scouring the internet for advice, she decided to check his phone first. Nothing unusualjust harmless banter with a couple of old schoolmates. Hardly worth fretting over.
James had never even bothered with a passcode. “Nothing to hide,” he always said. No secret chats, no deleted messages. A saint in the flesh.
Sometimes she wondered if she was imagining it all. But every time he came home late from work, that uneasy feeling returned.
Her best friend, Charlotte, would roll her eyes. “Youre overthinking it! James adores youhed never look at another woman. Youre ruining things with your paranoia!”
Emily didnt listen. Her gut told her otherwise, and the thought of sharing her husband made her sick.
Once, she even followed himstormed into his office to see if he was really working or off with some woman. He was furious. “Embarrassing me in front of my colleagues?” She spent days apologising, but he forgave quickly.
On paper, their life was perfect. A lovely home in Surrey, two children, financial comfort. But Emily couldnt rest.
She searched for prooflipstick on his collar, an unfamiliar perfume, a sudden change in routinebut found nothing. And still, she *knew*.
If not for sheer luck, she might never have discovered the truth. Real or imagined? Time would tell.
When their youngest started Year One, Emily decided to learn to drive. Evening lessons after work, three months of practice, and she passed her test first go.
James was so proud he bought her a car. Small, but perfect for her petite frame. Easier to park, too.
He never admitted it, but hed only bought it to stop her asking to borrow his Audi. “You need more experience first,” hed say.
Then, one frosty Sunday morning, Emily woke early, determined to bake the familys favouritechicken and mushroom pie. But she was out of flour.
The roads were icy, but shed grown confident in winter driving. She hurried outsideonly for her car to refuse to start. Back inside, the house was still asleep.
Walking in the cold didnt appeal. So she did the unthinkable: took his keys. Just a quick triphed never even notice.
As the Audi warmed up, she wiped the windscreen. Reaching into the glovebox for tissues, her hand brushed against something. It clattered to the floor.
A phone. But whose?
She knew Jamess phonethis wasnt it. Dark thoughts swirled. Maybe hed accidentally taken someone elses? But her finger hovered over the power button.
The screen lit up. A message from *Sophie*.
“Sweetheart, I miss you so much! Come over soonI cant wait!”
Emily blinked. No passcode. She scrolled.
Message after message. A lifetime of lies.
James left work at fivebut never came home before seven. Emily had never thought to check.
Almost every day, he stopped by his precious *Sophies* for an hour before slipping back like nothing happened. The things he wrote to herwords Emily had never heard.
The photos showed a woman in her forties. What did *she* have that Emily didnt?
Rage burned through her.
She was about to storm back inside when James emerged from the house.
Emily had left a note*popped to the shops*. He mustve seized the chance to message his darling Sophie.
Now it made sensehis nightly “errands.” Forgotten wallet, sudden fresh air. Always brief, never suspicious.
He spotted her in his car and marched over.
“Who said you could take this? We agreed”
Emily buckled up, slammed the car into reverse, and floored it. The Audi screeched into the fence. A petty satisfaction.
She stepped out, glaring. “Go to *her*, then! Lets see how much she wants you without your house, without your car! Get out of my sight!”
To prove her point, she hurled his keys into a snowdrift and walked away.
The boys were awake but confused. Minutes later, James tried the door. Emily locked it.
“Go to *her*! Dont you dare come back!” she shouted.
James had no choice. In slippers, a dressing gown, and a thin jacket, he trudged to Sophies. Surely *shed* take him in.
She opened the doorbut a mans voice called from inside.
“Darling, you coming back? Ive been waiting!”
James only visited Sophie on weekdays. Turns out, she had *two* men. Why waste a weekend?
She gave him a guilty look and shut the door.
Defeated, James dragged himself to his mothers house two streets over.
Margaret took one look and understood. She fed him, listened to his tales of a cruel wife whod thrown him out over nothing, and patted his shoulder.
“Dont worry, love. Who knew Emily would turn out like this? Your luck will changeyoure only thirty-five! Youll find love again.”
So James stayed with his mother, determined to start anew. He even felt relievedfree at last.
Until Emily filed for child support.
Suddenly, his fresh start didnt seem so easy. At least his mother hadnt abandoned him.
Without her, hed have been truly lost.
