Whos she?
Davids phone lay faceup on the kitchen table, the screen already lighting up with a new message before Emma even realized what she was doing. Missing you, love. A heart, a kiss, and an unfamiliar name Olivia.
David swiveled away from the espresso machine, a flash of irritation crossing his eyes, not fear. He tried to mask it with his usual lighthearted sigh.
Are you snooping through my phone?
It lit up on its own. Emma lifted the device, flicked the screen open with the familiar swipe they both knew. Their passwords were shared. Whos Olivia?
David turned his back, pressed the button on the machine.
Colleague.
A colleague sending you missing you, love?
Emma scrolled through the chat, each swipe making her fingers grow colder. Photos, voice notes, weekend plans that David supposedly spent at a conference in Manchester, inside jokes that only the two of them understood. The earliest message dated back to March; now it was September. Six months, roughly 180 days, during which shed made him breakfast, waited for him after work, plotted holidays and told herself they were happy.
David, weve been texting for half a year.
The espresso machine fell silent. David took a sip of his coffee, and Emma, with a detached sort of clarity, noted that he seemed oddly calm.
Dont start, Rosie.
Start? What are you looking for, an apology or a blush? She stared at David, hoping to see a speck of remorse in his familiar face. Nothing. Just the fatigue of a man whod been pulled away from his morning brew.
So youve been cheating on me for six months and Im supposed to keep quiet?
David set his mug down, ran his hand over his cheek.
Listen, its a bit messy to explain now. Lets talk tonight Im running late.
He grabbed his briefcase, planted a quick kiss on her cheek the same old routine and left. The door clicked shut gently, leaving Emma standing in the middle of the kitchen.
She replayed the messages over and over, hunting for a clue. A prank? A misunderstanding? The photos didnt lie David and a blonde in a restaurant, on a riverside promenade, in someone elses flat. Selfies with matching smiles, fingers intertwined.
Emma tried to pinpoint when things went off track. Their morning chats, shared dinners, plans to buy a bigger flat, maybe even a dog. Nothing had hinted at trouble. Absolutely nothing.
Or perhaps shed simply chosen not to see it?
Felicity burst in forty minutes after the call, flinging a bag of fresh croissants into Emmas hands and collapsing onto the sofas armrest.
Spill the beans.
Emma rattled off the story, jumping from details to feelings and back again. Felicity listened in silence, her face growing more solemn by the minute.
I dont get it, Emma said, running her fingers through her hair for the tenth time. Everything was fine. We were happy. Where did this come from?
Felicity paused, then asked gently:
Rosie, did you notice anything at all? Anything unusual?
Notice what? Hed come home, wed eat together, weekend trips out of town. A normal family!
Alright then, Felicity took a breath, her expression warning Emma that the next words would sting. Do you remember how you two met?
Emma blinked.
What does that have to do with anything?
Its exactly what it has to do with, Felicity replied. You met three years ago at his companys Christmas party. You were on their outsourced accounts team.
And? Emma pressed.
He was already married to Mary. You dated him for two years while he was still married. Then he divorced Mary and married you.
Emmas mouth fell open. She shut it again as a noisy rush of thoughts filled her head, and the croissants suddenly smelled overly sweet and out of place.
Thats different, she managed. We loved each other. He said his marriage to Mary was over ages ago. They were just dragging out the divorce.
Felicity gave her a pointed look.
Rosie, he was cheating on his wife for two years with you. Why did you think hed be faithful now?
Because its different with me! Emma leapt up, wrapping her arms around herself. He chose me. He changed, Felicity. He really changed after we married.
Felicity shook her head.
He didnt change, Rosie. Hes just him. He loves himself above all else. Everyone else wife, lover, job is just scenery. He takes what he wants when he wants. Loyalty is boring to him. Restrictions are for other people.
You dont know him.
I know men like him. Felicity reached out, took Emmas hand. Remember how you dreamed hed leave Mary? How you waited for his call, convincing yourself it was just a bit longer and that youd finally be together proper?
Emma fell silent. Of course she remembered every sleepless night, every lastminute cancelled dinner, every lie she used to cover up their trysts to friends. Two years as a mistress humiliating, painful, but she endured it, hoping, believing.
You got what you wanted, Felicity continued, soft but ruthless. He divorced Mary, married you, and now theres a vacancy for a mistress. He cant go without that thrill. Youre his legal wife safe, but dull.
Im not dull!
Emma sank back onto the sofa. Felicitys words were harsh, yet something inside her finally accepted the truth.
From April onward David started taking business trips every two weeks or more. Emma brushed it off as work latenight meetings, endless negotiations, corporate events wives werent invited to.
And the bedroom Emma recalled the recent months: David stumbling in, planting a kiss on her forehead, turning his back to the wall. She blamed stress, age, anything but the truth.
I need to see it with my own eyes, Emma said, exhaling sharply.
Spying on her own husband felt humiliating but technically simple. She called in a sick day and, for three days, lingered after work. On the second day she got lucky.
He left the office at seven, got into his car and didnt head home. Emma tailed him in a taxi, feeling like a very amateur detective. He parked outside a café in the city centre; five minutes later a young woman slipped into the passenger seat.
A blonde, about twentyfive, with a chic bob and a confident grin the very Olivia from the messages. Emma recognised her from the photos.
David lifted Olivias hand to his lips, whispered something, and she laughed, throwing her head back. The gesture was identical to one Emma had used three years earlier.
The same restaurant. Emma recognised the sign. David had taken Olivia here for their first date, always saying it was their special spot.
They sat at the same window table. David ordered, and Emma could see the familiar gestures probably recommending the duck breast and the classic Eton mess for dessert, spinning stories about his childhood in York and his dream of traveling the world. He looked at Olivia with that hungry, promising look hed once given Emma.
The scene replayed down to the last detail. David didnt bother inventing a new script. Why bother when the old one worked?
Emma returned home and waited. He arrived at eleven, smelling of cheap floral cologne, nothing like her usual aftershave.
We need to talk, she said.
David sighed, shrugged his jacket over the back of a chair.
What now, Rosie? Im knackered
I saw you today.
David froze for a heartbeat, then shrugged.
So Ive been watching, have I?
Answer me.
Yes, I met Olivia. He sank into the armchair, crossed his legs, and gave that sincere, convincing expression shed believed in for three years. It means nothing, love. Listen I love you. Youre my wife. Olivia is just an adventure. It doesnt change us.
Did you feed Mary the same old nonsense?
David snapped.
Thats different.
Really? You cheated on her with me, now you cheat on me with her. Whats the difference?
Ive changed, Rosie. After we married I really wanted to be faithful. But He gestured helplessly. It just happened. Ill end things with Olivia. I promise. From now on, its only you.
The promise sounded rehearsed, polished. Emma stared at him, seeing the emptiness behind the polished words a habit of lying that had become second nature, selfishness wrapped in charm. David simply couldnt love anyone but himself.
No.
What, no?
I dont need your promises.
David frowned.
Rosie, dont dramatise. Every couple hits a snag. Well get through this.
Emma shook her head. Her chest felt empty, but for the first time in ages, it was clear.
Youll never change. Its not a problem for you its normal. Wife at home, lover on the side. Convenient.
Youre talking rubbish.
Im telling the truth. Emma stood. Three years ago I thought I was special, that youd be different for me. I was just another placeholder for Mary.
She left for Felicitys flat that evening.
The divorce took three months.
David didnt fight it. By November he had officially moved in with Olivia Emma learned this from mutual friends. The new couple looked blissfully happy on Instagram, Olivia posting lovefilled captions and weddingplanning hashtags.
Felicity showed Emma one of those posts.
Look He says Im the only one hes ever truly loved.
Emma swiped the phone away.
Dont want to see it.
You angry?
No. She admitted, and it was true. I feel sorry for her. In a couple of years shell be sitting with a friend, crying exactly like I did.
Felicity hugged her.
Do you feel better?
Emma thought. Not better, just less tangled. The mirage of the man shed built in her mind was finally loosening.
You know whats the stupidest part? Emma said with a weak grin. I knew it from the start. I knew hed be like that. I was his mistress, heard his lies to his wife, and still convinced myself itd be different with me.
I fell in love.
I was foolish and blind. Those are not the same.
Felicity fell silent.
And now?
Emma stared out the window.
Now Ill look for someone who doesnt need to be remade. Someone whos faithful from the getgo. Do those even exist?
Rain began to patter against the glass. Emma watched the droplets run down, and for the first time in months she didnt think of David, their wedding, or their joint plans.
She didnt know that a year later shed walk down the aisle again, this time with a man who never glanced at anyone else. Two years after that, a daughter would arrive, then a son. Her new family would grow stronger each day, and shed finally understand what a marriage built on genuine love feels like.
