Maybe we could go out somewhere this weekend? At least catch a film, Emma said, settling beside James on the sofa. Lately theyd been drifting apart, and she was desperate to bring back the closeness they once knew.
Im sorry, Im tied up, James replied without looking up from his phone, scrolling through his social feed. I promised Mum Id help with the roof. Winters coming and its leaking again. Ill be stuck up there all weekend.
Emma nodded, masking her disappointment. A cold knot of foreboding tightened in her chest, but she forced it aside.
On Friday evening she saw James off at his mothers house. His outfit caught her eyea fresh pair of trousers and the shirt shed given him for his birthday, a pricey piece from a highstreet boutique.
Youre really going up on that roof? Emma asked, studying his clothes. Dont you think youll ruin them? Theres tar, grime
Its Ill change before I go, James muttered, snatching the car keys. Mum has work clothes in the shed. Dont worry about the shirt.
She walked him to the door, kissed him goodbyea ritual theyd kept for five years. James hugged her hurriedly, as if eager to leave, his touch feeling more like a duty than affection. When the door shut, Emma leaned against it, closed her eyes, and felt something had shifted between them.
In the bedroom she collapsed onto the bed, the scent of his aftershave still lingering on the pillowcase. For two months James had been distantcooler, less affectionate, staying later at work. Every sign pointed to one thing: he was seeing someone else. Emma fought the thought, refusing to believe the obvious. He could not betray her, could not shatter their love
Its all nonsense, she whispered to the pillow, trying to convince herself. Hes just tired from work, a bit moody. Its the autumn blues.
Just the night before, hed declared his love, calling her the best thing that ever happened to him, words he repeated almost mechanically. People change, Emma knew that. But not Jamesnot the James shed built a life with, planned children and old age with. She dismissed the betrayal notion, telling herself she was merely imagining things.
Saturday morning she headed to the supermarket before the crowds. She filled a trolley with Jamess favourite stew meat, fresh veg for salad, even an expensive piece of fish they only bought for special occasions. Back home she spent the afternoon in the kitchen, cooking with devotion. The stew was rich and smoky, just as her motherinlaw, Margaret, liked it. The meatballs puffed up, juicy, a splash of cream in the mince as her grandmother had taught her. Emma packed everything into containers and pots.
Ill take it over to Mums, she decided. James said Mum would be at a friends all day, and hell be stuck on the roof until evening. No one will have time to cook.
She loaded the car carefully, checked that nothing leaked, and drove out of town. The trip to Margarets cottage took about forty minutes on the main road, then a few more on a narrow lane. Margaret lived in a modest village, in an old but cosy house with a big garden. When Emma pulled up to the familiar green gate, the first thing she noticed was Jamess car missing from the drive.
She stepped out, peeked through the gate. The roof looked brand newmetal tiles gleamed under the autumn sun, gutters freshly installed. Margaret, wrapped in an old dressing gown, was humming as she tended to her vegetables.
Emma slipped back into the car and drove off without a word, the lovingly prepared food still inside. Anguish clenched her heart. James had lied, brazenly and cynically. Why? The answer was clear, but she clung to the last shred of hope.
All the way home she tried to find a logical explanation. Maybe hed finished the roof? Maybe hed gone to fetch materials? Yet the pristine roof spoke for itselfthis wasnt yesterdays work.
Sunday evening James returned, weary but smug, a faint scent of unfamiliar perfume clinging to his coat. The shirt was still clean, though a little rumpled.
Hard day, he said, slipping off his boots at the doorway, not meeting her gaze. Can you believe it? I only finished the roof by Sunday evening. Itll last another twenty years, Mums happy.
Good for you, Emma replied from the kitchen, watching every nuance. Listen, lets go visit your mum next weekend. Id like to talk to her, we havent seen each other in ages. Ill check out the work you did.
James froze, then reluctantly agreed, rubbing his necka nervous habit.
Alright though shell probably be busy making jam and pickles.
Nothing much, just a quick stop, Emma smiled, though dread tightened her chest.
The whole week she rehearsed the conversation, choosing each word. James behaved as usualoff to work, back at night, sharing stories, but avoiding her eyes, turning his back to the wall in bed.
The following Saturday was bright and warm. They drove in silence, James drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, constantly adjusting the rearview mirror. Emma stared out at the golden fields, plotting how to bring the truth to light.
At the lunch table Margaret bustled as everlaying out salads, slicing bread, pulling jars of pickles from the cellar. James sat tense, barely touching his food, poking at his plate.
Margaret, Emma began, hows the new roof? James told me you had it redone last weekend. Must have cost a fortune?
A heavy silence settled over the table. Margaret looked bewildered, then at her son, then at Emma.
What roof? she asked. We replaced it back in June while you and James were on holiday. I even called you about the colour of the tiles
Mum, youre mixing things up, James interjected, his voice trembling.
Oh dear, Im sorry, Em, Margaret rushed, seeing James pallor. I meant the old one we patched it a bit last weekend
Dont make up stories, Emma cut in, eyes locked on James. Ive pieced it together. Are you cheating on me?
James mumbled incoherently, eyes down, fists clenching under the table. Emma rose, legs trembling, but she forced herself upright.
Honestly, I never expected this from you. We were always honest, or so I thought. If you had someone else, you should have said so. Id have divorced you without drama.
Emma, calm down! Margaret erupted, leaping from her seat. A slipup! Men do it, theyre all the same. Forgive him, keep the family together. Everyone cheats, itll pass, trust my experience
No, Emma said firmly, moving toward the door. I wont forgive such betrayal. James, stay here with your mum; Ill collect your things in a few days. You dont need to come back.
Emma, wait! James lunged after her, grabbing her wrist at the gate, turning her around. Im sorry! It was a lapse, I didnt know what I was doing! She means nothing to me, truly! It was just a stupid mistake, I didnt intend it!
Emma pulled free, tears glinting, but she didnt let herself weep.
You lied and betrayed me. Whether it was a lapse, a retrograde Mercury or anything, you hurt me and shattered our family. I wont forgive you. Live with that.
She walked toward the bus stop, never looking back. James stood at the gate, head bowed, while Margaret muttered about youth and passion, insisting everything would sort itself out.
Back home Emma methodically packed Jamess belongingsclothes, shaving kit, his favourite SpiderMan mug from their first year togetherinto boxes and bags. The next day she delivered everything to Margarets cottage. Margaret tried once more to sway her, eyes brimming with tears.
Think it over, Emma! Let James come back, you two can talk calmly. Dont be hasty! Youve lived five years together!
The decisions made, Emma said, unloading the last box. Ill file for divorce on Monday. Thats the end of us. And please, dont call me again.
James lingered in the doorway of his mothers house, a crumpled Tshirt on his back, looking forlorn. Emma didnt glance his way; she turned and walked away for good.
The divorce was swiftno joint assets, no children, thank heavens. The flat Emma owned before marriage meant there was nothing to split. James didnt contest, only asked for meetings through a solicitor, which Emma refused.
Three months later, while having tea at a café near work, Emma ran into Olivia, an old acquaintance.
Heard about James? Olivia asked, stirring her coffee, eager for gossip.
No, I havent heard and I dont want to, Emma replied, but Olivia continued in a lowered voice, You know, that old lady dumped him straight after the divorce! Turns out she was after a married manshe liked the thrill, the mystery. A single bloke bored her. Now hes living with his mum, lost his job. A sorry sight, honestly.
Emma shrugged, finishing her green tea.
Thats not my problem any more.
She paid, stepped out onto the crisp autumn street, the weak sun casting long shadows. Life would go on, without lies, without betrayal, without James.
