**Diary Entry**
I was the one who handed him to her—practically placed him in her arms myself. And she didn’t bat an eyelid; she took him.
*”Emily, hi. What was so urgent that you couldn’t tell me over the phone?”* Sophie asked, slipping off her jacket as she stepped into the flat.
*”Not a conversation for the phone. Come through to the kitchen,”* Emily replied, flicking off the hall light and trailing after her friend.
*”Alright, colour me intrigued. Out with it,”* Sophie said, perching at the table with her hands neatly folded like a schoolgirl awaiting instructions.
Emily set down an open bottle of red wine and two glasses.
*”Blimey! That serious, is it? Go on, then—I’m all ears,”* Sophie remarked.
Emily poured the wine and sat opposite her.
*”To help us relax. And… understand each other,”* she said grandly, raising her glass and taking a sip. Sophie mirrored the gesture but didn’t drink, waiting for Emily to begin.
*”I’m gone. Completely head over heels. It’s like living in a dream—I can’t stop thinking about him. I go to bed just counting the hours till morning. Never thought it’d happen like this. I loved Daniel, but not like this. And now…”* Emily drained her glass in one go.
*”Well. That’s… something. Was this what you needed to tell me?”* Sophie set her glass down and started to rise.
*”Sit,”* Emily snapped, yanking her back by the wrist.
*”What about Daniel?”* Sophie slumped into the chair.
*”What about him? Seven years together. Everything’s fine. Stable. Then I met Nathan, and—poof. Gone.”* Emily exhaled sharply. *”You judging me? Ever loved someone like that? No? Then don’t. I called you here to talk about Daniel.”*
*”Right. I think I’ll have that drink now,”* Sophie muttered, taking a cautious sip.
*”You fancied him, didn’t you? Don’t think I didn’t notice how you looked at him,”* Emily tapped her nails against the tabletop, circling the real issue like a shark.
*”Don’t be daft,”* Sophie scoffed.
Emily shrugged. *”Not angry. Actually, it’s better this way. I’ve decided to leave Daniel, but I can’t bear to tell him the truth. He doesn’t deserve this.”*
*”You didn’t mind cheating, but you can’t stand hurting his feelings? Doesn’t add up,”* Sophie retorted, sipping again.
*”You don’t get it. He’s good. I shout, I snap—he just takes it. Never says a word. He *knows*, and he still stays quiet. How’s that fair?”*
*”Then explain.”*
Emily refilled her glass.
*”If I tell him straight—‘I don’t love you, I’m leaving’—he’ll let me go. But what happens to him? Men don’t cope well with rejection. He’ll drink himself stupid, sink into a pit… I can’t do that to him. Understand now?”*
*”Where do I come in?”*
Emily rolled her eyes. *”You like him. Probably always have.”* She studied Sophie, who glanced away. *”I’d feel better if he was with you. Not some random—”*
*”Oh. I *see*. You want me to comfort Daniel while you’re off shagging your fling? You’re *mental*. He’s not some hand-me-down jumper!”* Sophie downed the rest of her wine, grimacing.
*”Thanks for the vote of confidence. Look, just—keep him company. Distract him. Fancy a shag yourself? Don’t need me to spell it out.”*
*”Christ, this is mental. Wife sits her mate down with wine and says, ‘Fancy my husband?’ What’s next, a tawdry telly drama? ‘*Lady Chatterley*’ vibes, anyone?”*
*”Keep your voice down,”* Emily hissed. *”Just an idea. Say no—fine. Let him rot.”*
Sophie watched, mesmerised, as Emily swallowed the last of her wine.
*”I just want him happy. If we can’t be, then at least separately. And I’d rather him with someone safe. You.”* Emily set down her empty glass.
A voice cut in. *”Arguing about me, girls? Tut-tut, drinking without me.”* Daniel loomed in the doorway, grinning.
*”Finally. Wash up, dinner’s ready. We were just discussing a film,”* Emily said smoothly, moving to the stove.
Later, when Daniel drove Sophie home, the car was thick with tension.
*”Sorry for the detour. You should’ve been resting,”* Sophie offered.
*”Nah. Plenty of time for that. What’s got into Em lately? Snappy one minute, sobbing the next. She tell you anything?”*
*”Just girl talk,”* Sophie lied, shifting uncomfortably.
*”You’re rubbish at lying. And I’m not blind.”*
Sophie cleared her throat. *”Listen, my kitchen tap’s dripping. Mind taking a look?”*
Daniel agreed. At her flat, he fiddled with the plumbing while she fretted. *”Need a new tap. I’ll fetch one tomorrow.”*
*”Tea?”* she blurted.
*”Best not. Late enough.”*
They stood close, awkward. *Why did she marry him?* Sophie thought. *I’d never cheat.*
Then—impulsively—they kissed. Both flinched back, mortified.
*”Tea. Right,”* Daniel croaked.
Over tea and shop-bought biscuits (which he devoured), Sophie admitted she’d baked them herself.
*”Proper good. Em only gets supermarket stuff,”* he said, reaching for another.
Later, tangled on the sofa as dawn crept in, Sophie whispered, *”Why no kids with Emily?”*
*”She can’t. Old complication.”*
*”Ever fancy adopting?”*
*”Em won’t. Says she couldn’t love someone else’s.”*
Sophie hesitated. *”What if… I had your baby?”*
Daniel turned, lips brushing her ear. *”Yeah.”*
*”Emily’s having an affair,”* Sophie whispered back.
*”Thought so,”* he murmured, asleep moments later.
By morning, she cooked him breakfast—proper fry-up, just like his mum’s.
A month later, she told him she was pregnant. He spun her around, laughing. *”Already filed for divorce. Boy or girl?”*
Two months on, they married quietly at the registry office.
When Sophie was nine months along, Emily turned up at their door. *”He left me. The fog cleared. And you two—”* She eyed Sophie’s bump. *”Daniel happy?”*
*”Over the moon,”* Sophie said, then tensed. *”Knew you’d come eventually.”*
Emily smirked. *”Relax. I made my mess.”*
As they hugged, Daniel arrived, kissing Sophie’s temple. Emily looked away.
*”Stay for dinner,”* Sophie urged.
*”No.”* Emily’s smile was brittle. *”You won.”*
Later, when Sophie’s contractions started, Emily watched from the pavement as the ambulance pulled away.
At midnight, Daniel called, elated. *”A boy! Can you believe it?”*
*”No,”* Emily said flatly.
Next day, she helped him buy a pram, chattering about baby clothes—until, exhausted, they reached her flat.
*”Coming in?”* she asked. *”I handed him to you. And you took him.”*
*”I know. And I’ve never been happier,”* Daniel said, driving off.
Emily stood under the darkening sky, the hollowness inside mirroring the dusk.
