Maybe we could go out this weekend, even just to the cinema? Sophie asks, settling beside James on the sofa. Lately theyve hardly spent any time together, and she wants to restore the closeness they once had.
Sorry, Im busy, James replies without looking up from his phone, scrolling through his social feeds. I already promised Mum Id help with her roof. Winters coming and its leaking again. Ill be stuck there all weekend.
Sophie nods, masking her disappointment. An uneasy feeling flickers inside, but she pushes it away.
On Friday evening she sees James off as he heads to his mothers house. His outfit catches her eye new trousers and the shirt she bought him for his birthday, an expensive one from a good shop.
Youre really going to climb onto a roof in that? she says, eyeing the shirt. Arent you worried about ruining it? Theres tar, dirt
Its Ill change here, James answers quickly, avoiding her gaze, grabbing the car keys. Mum keeps work clothes in the shed. Dont worry about the shirt.
She walks him to the door, gives him a kiss their usual parting ritual after five years of marriage. James hugs her, but it feels rushed, as if he cant wait to leave and her touch makes him uneasy. When the door shuts, Sophie leans against it, closes her eyes, and senses something has shifted between them.
In the bedroom she collapses onto the bed, face into the pillow, inhaling the lingering scent of his aftershave on the pillowcase. For the past two months James has acted oddly hes grown distant, colder, hugs less often, and stays later at work. All the signs point to one thing: an affair. A new woman must be in his life. Sophie refuses to believe it, unwilling to accept the obvious. She cant imagine James betraying her, cant imagine him breaking their love.
Its all nonsense, she whispers to the pillow, trying to convince herself. Hes just tired from work, thats why hes on edge. Its just the autumn blues.
Just yesterday he told her he loved her, that she was the best thing thats ever happened to him. He repeated those words so often they sounded like a mantra. People change, Sophie knows that well. But not James, not her James, the man shes lived with for five years, the one she planned children and old age with. She pushes the thought of infidelity aside, telling herself shes just overthinking.
On Saturday morning Sophie heads to the supermarket early, before the crowds. She fills a cart with everything James loves steak for a roast, fresh veg for a salad, even an expensive fillet they only buy on special occasions. She spends the afternoon in the kitchen, preparing the meal with extra care. The stew turns rich and smoky, just like Mum Ethel used to make. The meatballs puff up and stay juicy because she adds a splash of cream, a tip her own mother taught her. Sophie packs everything into containers and casserole dishes.
Ill take it over to them, she decides. James said Mum will be at her friends all day, and hell be up on the roof until evening. No one will have time to cook.
She loads the food into the car, checks that nothing spills, and drives out of town. The trip to his mothers house takes about forty minutes on the motorway, then a few more on a narrow country lane. Ethel lives in a small village, in an old but cosy cottage with a big garden. When Sophie pulls up to the familiar green gates, the first thing she notices is that Jamess car isnt in the driveway.
She steps out, peeks through the gate, and sees the roof of the cottage gleaming with fresh metal tiles under the autumn sun, new gutters clearly just installed. Ethel, in an old dressing gown, is humming while tending to her vegetable patch.
Sophie slips back into the car and drives away without even calling, without delivering the lovingly prepared food. Inside her chest tightens with hurt and anger. James has lied to her, blatantly and cynically. Why? The answer is obvious, but she refuses to accept it, clinging to the last shred of hope.
On the way home she tries to rationalise. Maybe hes finished with the roof? Maybe hes gone to pick up supplies? But the brandnew roof tells a different story it wasnt replaced yesterday or the day before.
Sunday evening James returns home, tired but smiling, with a faint trace of someone elses perfume on his coat. His shirt is still clean, just a little crumpled.
Didnt get much rest, he says as he kicks off his boots, not looking at Sophie. Can you believe I only finished the roof by Sunday evening? Its all redone now, should last twenty years, Mums happy.
Good job, Sophie replies from the kitchen, watching his every move. Listen, how about we go to your Mums next weekend? Id like to catch up, havent seen her in ages, and I could see the work yourself.
James pauses, then reluctantly agrees, rubbing his neck his usual nervous gesture.
Alright then. Though shell probably be busy with preserves and pickles, he mutters.
No problem, well be quick, Sophie says, her stomach knotting with foreboding.
All week she rehearses the conversation, choosing each word carefully. James goes about his routine work, home, evenings but avoids meeting her gaze and turns his back to the wall in bed.
The next Saturday is bright and warm. They drive in silence, James drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, adjusting the rearview mirror. Sophie watches the golden fields pass by, pondering the best way to bring up the roof.
At Ethels kitchen table, she bustles as usual laying out salads, slicing bread, pulling jars of pickles from the cellar. James sits stiff, barely eating, poking at his plate with a fork.
Mum, hows the new roof? Sophie begins. James told me you had it replaced last weekend. Must have cost a pretty penny.
A heavy silence hangs over the table. Ethel looks confused, glancing first at her son, then at Sophie.
We changed it back in June while you and James were on holiday. I even called you about the colour of the tiles, she says.
Mom, youre mixing things up, James interjects, his voice shaking.
Oh dear, I got it all wrong, sweetheart, Ethel rushes, seeing Jamess pallor. I was thinking of the old roof, and James mentioned a new one he patched it a bit last weekend, thats all.
No need to make up stories, Sophie cuts in, fixing her eyes on James. Ive pieced it together. Are you cheating on me?
James mumbles something unintelligible, eyes fixed on his plate, fists clenched under the table. Sophie stands, her legs barely holding her up, but she forces herself upright.
Honestly, I didnt expect this from you. Weve always been honest, at least thats what I thought. If you found someone else, you should have said so. Id have divorced you without drama, she says.
Sweetheart, youre being too harsh! Ethel erupts, leaping from her seat. Everyone slips up. Men are all the same. You should forgive him, keep the family together. All men stray, itll pass, trust my experience
No, Sophie says firmly, walking toward the door on unsteady feet. I wont forgive that betrayal. James, stay here with your mum; Ill bring your things in a few days. You dont have to come back.
Wait, Sophie! James lunges after her, grabbing her wrist at the gate, turning her around. Im sorry! It was a moment of madness, I didnt know what I was doing! She means nothing to me, truly! It was just a stupid mistake, I didnt want it to happen!
Sophie pulls her hand away, eyes glistening with held-back tears, but she refuses to cry out loud.
You lied and betrayed me. I dont care if it was a hallucination, a Mercury retrograde, or anything else. You hurt me, destroyed our family, and I wont forgive you. Live with that, she says, heading toward the bus stop without looking back. James stands at the gate, head bowed, while Ethel mutters about youth and passion, insisting everything will sort itself out.
At home Sophie methodically packs Jamess belongings clothes, shaving kit, his favourite SpiderMan mug from their first year together. She places everything into boxes and bags. The next day she delivers the parcels to Ethels cottage. Ethel tries once more to persuade her, even shedding a few tears.
Think it over, love. Let James come back, you can talk calmly. Dont be rash! Youve spent five years together, she pleads.
The decisions made, Sophie snaps, unloading the last box. Ill file for divorce on Monday. Thatll be the end of us. And please, dont call me again.
James stands in the doorway of his mothers house, dishevelled in a crumpled tee, looking lost and pitiful. Sophie doesnt turn to him, she simply walks away, never to return.
The divorce finalises quickly theres hardly any joint property, no children, thank goodness. The flat Sophie bought before marriage stays hers, so theres nothing to split. James doesnt contest; he only asks for a meeting through a solicitor, which Sophie declines.
Three months later she bumps into Olivia, a mutual acquaintance, in a café near her office.
Heard anything about James? Olivia asks, stirring her coffee, eyes bright for gossip.
No, Id rather not, Sophie replies, but Olivia continues, lowering her voice. Can you believe it? She dumped him right after the divorce! Turns out she was after a married man, the adrenaline, the mystery a single guy bored her. Now he lives with his mum, jobless a sad sight, honestly.
Sophie shrugs, finishing her green tea. Thats not my problem any more.
She pays the bill and steps out onto the crisp autumn street. The cold sun shines down, and she thinks life goes on without lies, without betrayal, and without James.
