The key turned in the lock, and Emily, careful not to make a sound, slipped into the flat. The hallway was dark, save for a thin strip of light creeping from the kitchen. Her parents were still awake, though it was well past midnight. Lately, this had become routinetheir hushed late-night conversations behind closed doors. Usually quiet, but sometimes escalating into muffled arguments.
Emily kicked off her heels, dropped her work bag by the console table, and tiptoed down the corridor to her room. She didnt want to explain why she was late, even though she had good reasonthe project deadline at the office was looming, and nothing was coming together.
Through the wall, she could hear their voices, low but urgent.
“No, James, I can’t keep doing this,” Mum said quietly, though irritation laced her words. “You promised last month.”
“Sarah, nows not the time,” Dad replied, sounding defensive.
Emily sighed, exhausted. Lately, her parents were always arguing about something, but around her, they pretended everything was fine. Of course, they were in their fifties now, and she was long grown, but it still stung to think something was wrong between them.
She changed, washed up, and crawled under the duvet, but sleep wouldnt come. Her thoughts kept circling the same worries. Her brother, Oliver, lived in another city and rarely visited. If her parents divorced, who would stay with whom? Who would keep the flat? And why were they hiding their problems?
The voices through the wall didnt stop. Emily reached for her nightstand, fumbling for her headphones to drown out their secrets with music. Her hand knocked against her phone, and it clattered onto the carpet. As she picked it up, she accidentally opened the voice memo app. Her finger hovered over the screen.
What if she recorded them? Just to find out what was really going on, instead of guessing. If she asked outright, theyd brush her off, say everything was fine.
Guilt prickled cold in her chest. Eavesdropping was wrong, let alone recording them. But then again, they were her parentsher family. She had a right to know if something serious was happening.
Before she could second-guess herself, she pressed record, placed the phone closer to the wall, and pulled the duvet over her head.
The next morning, as she got ready for work, she noticed both Mum and Dad looked exhausted. Over breakfast, they barely spoke, exchanging only polite, empty words.
“You were back late last night,” Mum remarked, pouring tea. “Working again?”
“Yeah, wrapping up the project,” Emily nodded. “Why were you two up so late?”
“Oh, just watching a film,” Mum waved it off, not even looking at her.
Dad buried himself in the newspaper, pretending to be engrossed in an article.
“Dont wait for me at dinner,” he said without glancing up. “Client meetingsmight run late.”
Mum pressed her lips together but stayed silent.
All the way to the office, Emily fought the urge to listen to the recording. But the Tube was too crowded, and it felt too shameful. Shed wait until evening.
The day dragged endlessly. Finally home, she found a note from Mum saying shed gone to a friends and would be back late. Dad was still at work, just as hed said. The perfect moment.
Curling up on the sofa with a throw blanket, she pressed play.
At first, the voices were muffled, but then the recording sharpened.
“…should we tell Emily?” Dad sounded tense.
“I dont know,” Mum sighed. “Im afraid she wont understand. After all these years…”
“But she has a right to know.”
“Of course she does, but how do we explain why we stayed quiet for so long?”
Emily froze. What were they talking about? What truth had they been hiding?
“Remember how it all started?” Dad asked suddenly, a smile in his voice.
“Of course,” Mum chuckled. “I thought itd just be a phaseturned out to be a lifetime.”
“But what a life its been,” Dad huffed. “Even if it wasnt always easy.”
“Especially when Emily came along.”
Her heart clenched. What did that mean? Had she been unwanted? Or was it something else?
“But we managed,” Dad continued. “And she turned out brilliant.”
“Yes,” Mums voice warmed with pride, and Emily relaxed slightly. “But now we need to decide whats next. Im tired of living two lives, James.”
Two lives? Emily went cold. Was one of them having an affair? Or both? The thought made her nauseous.
“Sarah, lets at least wait for Oliver to visit. Well discuss it as a family.”
“Fine,” Mum agreed. “But no more delays after that. Either we change everything, or… I dont know what.”
The recording cut offmaybe theyd left the kitchen, or the phone had stopped.
Emily sat stunned. What was happening to her family? What double life were her parents leading? Why wait for her brother to explain anything?
A thousand questions, no answers. Should she record them again? That felt too far. And she was already ashamed shed given in to the impulse. Noshed talk to Oliver first. He was older; maybe he knew more. Or Aunt Lydia, Mums sistershed always been honest with her.
Decision made: shed call Oliver tomorrow and visit Aunt Lydia at the weekend.
Her brother didnt pick up all day, finally answering near evening.
“Em! Sorry, was on a job siteleft my phone in the car,” he said, sounding just as cheerful as ever.
“Ollie, when are you visiting?” Emily cut straight to it.
“This weekend, why?”
“Just… Mum and Dad are acting weird. Theyre waiting for you.”
“Weird how?” His tone shifted, guarded.
“Whispering at night, pretending everythings fine around me. Talking about some double life.”
Silence.
“Ollie?”
“Yeah, Im here,” he cleared his throat. “Look, dont overthink it. People have their secretseven parents.”
“So you know whats going on?”
“I… have an idea,” he hesitated. “But if theyre not saying anything, theyre not ready. Wait for me, yeah? Ill be there Saturday, then well talk.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “Should I visit Aunt Lydia?”
“Dont,” he said too quickly. “Dont drag her into this. Lets keep it between us.”
After the call, her unease only grew. So Oliver did know something. And he wanted to keep Aunt Lydia out of it. Maybe it was affairs after all? A family scandal they didnt want spreading?
That evening, Mum came back from her friends in high spirits, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.
“Youll never guessClaires selling her flat!” she announced at the door. “Moving to the countryside. Says shes sick of the city noise.”
Emily nodded, unsure how to react.
“Would you ever want to live in the country?” she asked suddenly.
Mum paused, then answered carefully, “I dont know… sometimes, yes. The quiet, fresh air, a garden.”
“And Dad?”
“What about Dad?”
“Would he want that?”
“Ask him yourself,” Mum said, suddenly serious. “Hell be late tonight. Dont wait up.”
Mercifully, Dad came home earlier than expected. Emily was making tea in the kitchen when she heard the front door click shut.
“Dad, want some?” she called.
“Please,” he replied, appearing a minute later, loosening his tie. “Wheres Mum?”
“In her room, watching something,” Emily grabbed another mug. “How was work?”
“Fine,” he sank into a chair. “Client agreed to our terms, so were greenlit.”
“Thats great,” she set the tea in front of him. “Listen… is it true you and Mum have something important to tell me?”
Dad stiffened, staring at her. “What makes you say that?”
“Oliver let it slip,” she lied, avoiding his eyes. “Said hes coming this weekend so you can explain.”
James rubbed his forehead. “Yes, theres something. But lets wait for Oliver, alright? Its better that way.”
“Is it something bad?” she asked bluntly. “Are you two splitting up?”
“What? No!” He looked genuinely shocked. “Why would you think that?”
“Youre always whispering, arguing. Mum mentioned a double life.”
His face cycled through confusion, realisation, then… relief?
“Em, youve got it all wrong,” he sighed. “No ones splitting up. Quite the opposite…” He trailed off. “Just wait till the weekend, yeah? Promise, its nothing bad.”
“Really?”
“Really. Now, teas getting cold.”
That night, she tossed and turned, piecing together fragments of conversations, tones, half-truths. If not
