James sat in the darkened room, listening to the sounds of the night. A car pulled up outside, the door clicked shut softly, and the quick tap of heels faded behind the front door. Finally, the key turned in the lock—slow, careful.
He held his breath, straining to catch every sound. The rustle of fabric, quiet shuffling steps. “Doesn’t want to wake me, didn’t even put on slippers,” he thought, smirking to himself.
The door opened gently. Emily tiptoed into the bedroom. The streetlight spilled just enough light for him to see the untouched bed, no one sleeping there. She froze, sensing his gaze, then turned.
“You scared me. Why aren’t you asleep?” she snapped.
“I was waiting for you.” James stood, walked to the door, and flicked the switch. The sudden brightness made Emily squint.
“Where were you?” He studied her pale face, her makeup smudged.
“Sorry, I forgot to tell you…” Emily glanced at the floor.
“Don’t say you were at a friend’s. Tell me the truth—it’ll be easier for both of us. How long have you been cheating?”
She flinched like she wanted to bolt. Then she shook her head slightly.
“Two months,” she murmured, lifting her eyes briefly. “I meant to tell you, but… I’m sorry. I’ll leave now.” She hurried out. He heard her shuffling in the hallway.
Emily returned with a suitcase, dropped it on the bed, and started pulling clothes from the wardrobe. Hangers clinked, tangled, spilled dresses and blouses onto the duvet.
“Maybe do this tomorrow when I’m not here?” James grabbed a pillow and walked out.
He lay on the sofa in the other room, still dressed, a blanket over him. Sleep wouldn’t come. He wanted to smash things, to slap Emily, wipe the last traces of someone else’s kisses off her face. He took deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down.
***
They’d decided to celebrate the end of exams at the beach. Stripped down, they ran straight into the water. Later, Tom and Greg went for beer, while James stayed to watch their things.
Sitting on his jeans, he watched kids splashing near the shore. A girl stepped out of the water—tall, tanned, drops glistening on her skin—and walked right toward him. She grabbed a towel from a nearby blanket, drying her hair. James couldn’t look away from her. He wanted to touch the cool dampness of her shoulder.
She felt his stare and turned sharply. He didn’t look away fast enough. Maybe he looked silly, guilty, because she smiled. By the time Tom and Greg returned, they were chatting like old friends.
Seeing the lads, Emily bundled up to leave, tugging a sundress over her head. For a second, she vanished under the fabric. Tom caught James’s gaze and smirked; Greg gave him a thumbs-up.
The dress slipped into place. Emily smoothed it down, gathered her things, smiled at the boys, and walked off.
“Snap out of it,” Tom said, clapping James on the back.
“Emily, wait!” James scrambled into his jeans, chasing after her without a word to his mates. He got home late.
“Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone? We were worried sick!” his mum scolded.
“Sorry, forgot to turn it back on after the exam. I’m getting married,” he blurted.
“What?”
“He’s getting married. Good timing—third year, twenty years old. He’ll give us a grandchild by graduation,” his dad said calmly.
“No, no—I meant I met the girl of my dreams. I’ll marry her someday.”
“You just met her?!” His mum gaped. “David, did you hear this?” She looked between them, lost.
“Tanya, relax. He’s in love. Love makes people dream. He’s alive, healthy, happy. Let’s all sleep—we’ll talk tomorrow.” His dad steered her to bed.
“Thanks,” James called after him.
Two weeks later, he brought Emily home. Mum sniffed out she lived in student housing and declared she was after a flat and London residency—not love. Of course, she waited till James returned from walking Emily back.
“You don’t like her?” James frowned.
“What matters is that you do,” his dad said, and James shot him a grateful look.
They married after New Year’s. Dad handed them keys to a flat.
“Thanks. Didn’t expect this.”
“It’s mine. Your mum and I rented it out. Started the renovations—you can finish.” Dad hugged him.
***
He finally slept near dawn. Waking, he saw Emily with her suitcase.
“Sorry, I woke you after all,” she said, heading for the door.
Yesterday’s pain crashed over him. He wished he could stop her… The door slammed. He thought she’d be back in a day or two. But she never returned. Never called. Her keys lay abandoned in the hall.
He missed her more each day, ready to forgive anything if she’d come back. He called—no answer, or her phone was off. Once, he lurked outside her uni, but she walked out arm-in-arm with another bloke. James barely dodged behind a tree.
The empty flat suffocated him. He went to his parents’.
“I never liked her. Found someone richer, I bet,” Mum muttered.
“Leave it. He’s hurting. They’ll sort it out,” Dad said, and James thanked him silently.
A month later, they divorced at the registry office. His world crumbled. On the way home, he bought vodka, ready to drown himself.
Unexpectedly, Dad showed up. They drank and talked all night. Dad confessed his first wife died—hit by a drunk driver while pregnant. He’d wanted to die too. Drank himself stupid. Then he met Tanya and little Jamie. Decided to live for them.
James never drank again.
Six months later, Mum announced her friend’s niece was visiting from Manchester.
“She’ll stay with us till she finds work and a flat. You can show her London.”
“Trying to matchmake? Did you invite her just for that?”
But the girl was sweet, slender, a short haircut making her look younger. She squinted shyly, hating her glasses. “And this one thinks she’ll conquer London,” James thought. Of course, he took her under his wing—showed her the city, taught her interview tips, helped her find a cheap flat.
“Try the pies. Sarah baked them. You must taste her stew. Homely, clever, a proper wife.” Mum wouldn’t stop praising her.
“Maybe she’s right. Emily’s happy with someone else. Time I moved on. Why not her?”
“Right, I’m getting married,” he joked.
“Think carefully! You rushed once. I won’t let you hurt my friend’s niece!” Mum fretted.
After graduation, they married quietly—no big wedding, just close family at a café.
New life began. Sarah was funny, gentle—nothing like Emily. Maybe exactly what he needed. But at night, loneliness crushed him.
Another year passed. One day, shopping for his dad’s birthday gift, Sarah lingered at a toy stall.
“Look how sweet. I had a bear like this. Maybe we should get it?”
James barely listened. Through the window, he spotted Emily.
“Be right back.” He dashed out.
He caught her by the escalator but didn’t stop her. Only at the bottom did he call her name.
“Hi. That your wife?” Emily asked. “Pretty. You’ve changed. Happy?”
James shrugged. “You?”
“Didn’t work out. Sneaking around’s one thing—living together’s another. Your mum told me you remarried.”
“Mum? She never mentioned seeing you.”
“She never liked me. Does she like this one?” Emily’s stare burned. An old wound throbbed in his chest.
“Where are you staying?”
“Renting. Still got my number? Call me sometime.” She rushed off. James forgot Sarah entirely.
“That your wife?” Her voice came behind him. She held a small plush bear.
“Ex-wife. Bought it, then?” He forced calm, steering her toward the exit.
“What about the gift?”
“We’ve got time.”
After that, Sarah grew quiet. James barely noticed, too busy thinking of Emily.
One night, locked in the loo, he called. Emily sounded thrilled.
“Come over. I’ve missed you. Seeing you at the mall, I realized my mistake. But you still love me—why else chase me?”
“I’m married.”
“Relax. I’m not proposing. Just talk. I’ll text the address…”
He resisted for days, then caved. Emily answered flushed, in a frilly apron. The flat smelled of dinner.
“Food’s almost ready. Knew you’d come.”
“You never cooked before.”
“Before? That was ages ago.”
She flitted around, settingHe knew then—no matter how much the past pulled at him, his future was with Sarah, their child, and the family they were building together.
