Poison of Envy
Edward, Im scared Emilys hands gripped a napkin so hard it tore at the edge, her voice betraying her as it trembled on the final word. Eyes wide with genuine fear, she looked up at him. The messages theyve started again.
Shaking, she fished her phone from her bag, unlocked it with trembling fingers, and handed it to Edward. He took the device, reading each text intently: Thank you for a lovely evening, I miss you already, When can we meet again?, Well see each other soon, Ill wait for you after work at our place. Edwards brow furrowed deeply.
When did these come through? His tone was calm, almost cold, as he returned the phone.
The last one was five minutes ago. Right after we ordered. Emily swallowed, feeling a coil of dread twist inside her. Its always like thisalways when were together. Its as if someones watching, always waiting, knowing exactly where we are, what were doing.
Edward leaned back in his chair, running a thoughtful hand over his chin. His gaze hardened, sharp and analytical, as if he were already calculating the next move.
Let me see all the messages. And the dates. His voice carried resolve, unshaken.
Emily scrolled the conversation upwards, hands still shaking. Edwards eyes moved quickly, marking times, parsing through every phrase. His face betrayed nothing, but focus burned in his gazehe looked like a hunter in pursuit of prey. Among the texts were more: I cant stop thinking about you, Remember the last time we spokeI want more, You know where to find me if you change your mind. Each word was a thread pulling tight, as if some invisible hand were trying to rip their lives apart.
Strange, he said finally, ice flickering through his tone. Its too well timedlike someones trying to make it look like youre seeing someone behind my back. And theyre precise, always sending the messages when were together. Too precise.
Emily let her shoulders drop, overcome with invisible weight. She was twenty-five, a designer in a small London studio, always yearning for a real connectionhonest warmth, mutual support, something unspoiled by wealth or status. Edward, a thirty-five-year-old solicitor, seemed just that: steady, attentive, really listening. Beside him, she felt safeso rare and precious a feeling.
Theyd been together six months. Emily had come to value his practical calm, his wry humour, the way he was genuinely interested in her day. He didnt push, didnt press, but made clear in gentle ways he hoped shed be his wife one day. Lately, Emily often found herself readyready for the leap into their shared future.
I cant think whod do this, she whispered, her voice unsteady. Theres no one. No secret admirers. I havent led anyone on. And these phrasesour place, last conversationits like someones trying to fake a history that never existed. As if were marionettes and theyre holding the strings.
Let me handle it, Edward interrupted, steel glinting in his eyes. I know people. Ill have the phone numbers traced. I dont buy for a second that this is some coincidence. Its all too well orchestrated.
For the next few days, Edward was busy with calls and contacts. Emily tried not to dwellshe immersed herself in work, met friends for drinks, anything to distract from the ever-present anxiety. But the dread clung around her heart like cold ivy. Every time her phone buzzed, she checked it with a shudder. Every time it was ordinary, her relief was briefa moments peace before the tension returned, stronger than before.
On the fifth day, Edward called her in the evening.
Emily, I found out who it is. His voice was serious, stripped of its usual warm timbre. The texts came from prepaid SIMs, bought anonymously. But we traced who bought them. Its Jennifer.
Emily froze, nearly dropping her phone. Jenniferher university friend, twenty-eight years old, recently divorced with two sons. Theyd supported each other for years, swapping secrets, weathering heartbreak together. But lately, theyd grown tensea thin crack in the glass, widening every day. Jennifer, often weary, spoke more and more of loneliness, how men avoided mothers with children, how her days were endless repetition and disappointment.
Jennifer? Emily managed, her voice thick with disbelief and hurt. But why? How could she?
I think you know, Edward replied quietly, bitterness edging his tone. Envy. Youre single, successful, youve found someone decent. She feels left behind. I think she hoped these messages would make me doubt youthat Id suspect you of cheating.
A fortnight earlier, Emily, Edward, and Jennifer had attended a friends party in Surrey. The sitting room hummed with music, the scent of vol-au-vents and Prosecco; laughter and chatter rolled from sofa to kitchen and back.
Emily, in her new teal dress, looked radiantthe fabric flowing, eyes shining, the shade a striking foil to her dark hair. Edward doted on her, handing her fizz, fetching canapés, bringing her gently into every new conversation.
Well, you two are just something out of a glossy magazine, Jennifer remarked, a strained smile pulling at her lips. She lingered near, arms crossed over a plain beige cardigan, tugging nervously at the cuff. Perfect, arent yououtfits and all.
Thanks, Emily replied honestly, delighted by the rare compliment. I didnt expect the dress to suit me so well, to be honest.
Yeah, well. Jennifer smoothed a hand over her own sleeve, looking down. Wish I had the freedom to shop like you. But with two kids, my money goes elsewhere
Jen, come on. You look great. I love your styleits so you. Really elegant, Emily said, stepping forward and brushing her friends elbow.
Of course, Jennifer muttered, hollow laughter rattling in her throat. Some people have everything, others have to choose between a new dress and school shoes. Or between getting my hair done and paying Daniels football fees
Her voice broke on the last word, and she turned away, pretending to examine a painting. Edward deftly shifted the conversation to local restaurants, suggesting they all go out soon. Emily smiled, playing along, but out of the corner of her eye, she caught Jennifer at the window, watching them when they went to dance. In Jennifers gaze was not just envy but mournful yearninga longing for some lightness she no longer felt.
Another warning had sounded days before, over coffee in a cosy café, October rain drizzling down the windows. Emily shared stories from a recent weekend away with Edwardautumn woods, barbecued sausages, laughter by the fire, stars visible above the trees.
Sounds magical, Jennifer muttered, clinking her spoon against her china cup. Her movements were sharp, the sound bright and brittle in the hush. Romantic, countryside, the perfect boyfriend
It was wonderful, Emily said, cupping her cappuccino for warmth. Were hoping to go back in winter, maybe try skiing. Edwards brilliant on skishes promised to teach me. You two and the boys should come next time.
Skiing? Jennifers eyebrows arched. Her lips trembled. Thats if I ever have a spare day. My life? Nursery, doctors appointments, Daniels reading, pick up Alfie from drama, cook tea, check homework Some get romance, some get reality.
There was no angeronly exhaustion, resignation, and Emilys heart squeezed. Their other friend, Laura, stepped in gently:
Jen, Ms not showing offjust happy. Thats a good thing, isnt it?
Im not blaming her, Jennifer snapped, setting her cup down so hard it nearly spilled. Just stating facts: some get holidays, others get Groundhog Day. You can just drive off if you want, Emily. I have to plan a week in advance, sort out a babysitter, work out if Ive got the budget and even then, something always falls apart.
Emily wanted to say something comforting, but words failed her. She only reached out and gently touched Jennifers hand.
I know its hard. I want to help. Lets take the boys out together soonpark, hot dogs, something fun.
Jennifers eyes glistened, but she looked away. Thanks, but notheyd only get tired and whinge. Make the most of your freedom while you have it.
Back then, Emily had put it down to a bad day, Jennifers exhaustion. But now, replaying the scenes, she saw that envy had taken root long agoa dull ache, not as malice but as a chronic sense of injustice Jennifer had no words for. She remembered the averted eyes, the strained smile, the silences. They were never casual, she now realised. They were criescries shed missed.
What now? she asked softly, mingling anxiety and determination.
We go to her. Tonight. Edwards tone brooked no argument.
They drove across Hampstead to Jennifers small flat. When she opened the door, Jennifer turned pale. Her face lost all colour, hands clenching unconsciously into fists.
You? Whats happened? her voice trembled with confusionand fear.
Dont act, Edward cut in, tone blunt. You sent Emily those messages. We can prove it.
Jennifer staggered a step, leaning against the wall as if her legs no longer held her weight. Her face twisted with anger and despair, eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Yes, it was me! she burst out, her voice cracking. So what? Am I supposed to watch you get everything while Im stuckalone, with two kids, and no decent man? Youve always been the golden girlpretty, free, problem-free! And Im a burden!
Tears spilled down her cheeks, but her bitterness was years deep.
Youll never understand what its like to feel invisible, she went on shakily. Every time you told me about another date with Edward, I felt sick with envy. You have no idea how lucky you are! I just wanted you to know what its likewhen life isnt perfect, when happiness isnt yours for the asking!
Emilys heart twisted with anguishthe Jennifer before her was a stranger, hollowed out by grief and hopelessness.
So you tried to ruin my lifefor envy? Emilys voice was soft, nearly broken. Just because youre hurting? You wanted Edward to think I had an affair? To leave me?
What else was I supposed to do? Jennifer laughed bitterlya sound so brittle it nearly snapped in the air. You never knew what its like. Centre of attention, always. Even men who liked me left in weekskids, drama, too much baggage. But younothing weighs you down.
Edward stepped forward, standing beside Emily, shielding her from the venom.
Thats enough, he said forcefully, his words heavy as hammers. He moved closer, a physical barrier between Emily and Jennifers bitterness. Youve acted despicably. And youll answer for it.
A flicker of remorse flashed in Jennifers eyes, but anger quickly masked it.
So what then? Will you go to the police? she challenged. As if theyd care about a few texts
We dont need the police, Edward replied calmly. We need you to leave Emily alone. No more messages. Ever.
Jennifer glanced at Emilythe anguish of realisation in her eyesbut quickly looked away and snapped, You always knew I envied you, didnt you? Her voice was thin, brittle, shaking. Remember last year? My own birthday, and everyone only talked about your promotion. I was in the corner with the cakeno one asked how I was. No one cared.
The image was so vividEmily dancing, laughing, fielding compliments in her new dress, radiant. Jennifer in the shadows, withdrawn, hugging her arms and watching. Only now did she realise the reason.
Jen, Emily said quietly, the ache in her tone unable to be hidden. I never tried to overshadow you. I was just happy. I never thought youd see me as competition. You were always my equal. My friend.
How else am I meant to see it? Jennifer muttered, voice hoarse. Youre beautiful, successful, loved. And I have two kids, a mortgage, and the memory of being dumped. Of course I envied you. I wanted your life to crack, just once. So youd know what its like, standing on the edge, being invisible.
Edward said nothing until she finished. Then softly, firmly: Envy is yours to deal with. But you chose to act on itto hurt Emily instead of helping yourself. Thats not justified.
Jennifer flinched. Mouth open, nothing came out. Then she dropped her head, body trembling as she broke down, sobbing heavy, shuddering tears.
Im sorry, she whispered, the words scraped raw. I never meant it to go this far. But its all built upyears of silence, loneliness, endless days all alike. I couldnt cope anymore.
Emilys pain was sharp but laced with pityJennifer looked spent, not devious but defeated, undone by her own misery.
Another memory surfaceda few weeks earlier, in the same café. Jennifer stared into her cooling cappuccino:
You know, Em, sometimes I think you live some other life. Everythings easy for you: work, romance, even hobbies. Im just stucknursery, schoolevery day the same. Most mornings I wake up and think: Again? Its all repeating?
Emily had tried to cheer herhand on shoulder, honest praise. Jen, you have brilliant kids, youre so talented. Life changes. Let me help fix your CV? Maybe you could find a job closer, have more time for you
But Jennifer cut her off. Who wants a mum with two boys? Employers just see sick days, not a designer. But youyoure free. It stings.
Back then, Emily took it for tiredness, a fleeting regret. But now understood: those werent complaints. They were cries for help she hadnt heard.
Jennifer, Emily said now, voice trembling with complicated emotion, I didnt know how much you were suffering. If youd told me, we could have worked something out. Together. But this I cant just forget you tried to break up my relationship. It hurts. A lot.
I know. Jennifer wiped her tears with the back of her hand. I cant ask forgiveness. Justa little understanding. I thought if you were less happy, maybe Id get a little piece for myself. Stupid, isnt it?
Edward rested a hand on Emilys shoulder.
Lets leave it there. Emilycan you accept this?
Emily paused, thinking. She looked at Jenniferred-eyed, lips quivering, shoulders hunchedand felt her anger dissolve into something softer.
I can accept that you werent crueljust lost and envious, Emily said, meeting Jennifers gaze. But I cant be friends unless you learn to be happy for others. I need a friendnot a shadow feeding on my joy.
Jennifer nodded, another tear sliding down her face.
Thank youfor listening at all. And Im sorry I couldnt speak up sooner.
Emily and Edward stepped out into the gathering dusk of a London autumn, the first street lamps beaming yellow pools onto the damp pavement. Cold air, flavoured with leaf mould, filled Emilys lungs as she let the tension bleed away.
I feel empty, she confessed to Edward, nestling close for warmth. Its all out now, but it hurts. Like Ive lost something essential.
Thats natural, Edward replied, drawing her near. Betrayal always leaves a wound. But now you know, and we move on. Youre not alone. Im here.
Yes. Emilys lips trembled with a wobbly smile, tears still sparkling but hope slowly kindling in her eyes. We go on. Together.
They strode down the glowing street, and with every step, the burden seemed to lighten. Emily knew thered be hard work aheadin herself, and with the people she loved. But she had someone who saw her truly and would walk beside her, come what may. And that, perhaps, was all she needed.
