The morning at our house started with chaos. I ended up oversleeping, along with my wife, Emma. The alarm must have gone off, but neither of us heard it. I was trying to find my keys and tie my tie at the same time, while Emma dashed about, getting our son, Charlie, ready for nursery.
Love! Youll pick Charlie up later, wont you? Emma shouted from the bedroom, juggling her skirt and stuffing a spare set of clothes and toy dinosaur into Charlies little backpack.
Of course! Where on earth are my keys though? I replied, mildly panicking as I rifled through the mess on the kitchen table.
No idea! she called back sharply, her voice snappier than usual as she tried to find her phone.
Emma finally managed to grab her phone and helped Charlie get dressed meanwhile, our little lad sat quietly, playing with his toy cars, blissfully ignoring the morning madness.
Emma and Charlie left for nursery at breakneck speed, barely taking five minutes. At the nursery, Emma tried to unzip Charlies coat but the zip was stuck. Suddenly, she looked up and saw his eyes welling up.
Mummy, I dont want to go to nursery… Charlie whimpered, a frown forming, his little hands clenched.
Oh darling, dont start now, were running late, Emma said, trying to hide her stress but her voice trembled nonetheless. She knelt down, stroking his hair, trying to comfort him. Itll be fun youll see your friends, play together…
But Charlie just pouted and dug his heels in. The nursery teacher came into the cloakroom, smiling gently at Emma and took Charlie by the hand.
Dont worry, Emma, well look after him, she said. Come on, Charlie, the others are waiting for you!
Emma was relieved for a moment. But then another wave of stress hit as she realised how late she was. Oh, for heavens sake Im so late, she muttered, glancing at her watch. She hurried towards the exit, deciding she would call her client to let them know shed be delayed. She reached into her bag for her phone and frowned. The phone in her hand wasnt hers. In the confusion, she and I had swapped phones. Those blasted matching phone cases and shared passcodes.
Oh, brilliant, she said through gritted teeth, realising shed have to ring me to send her the right number.
Just as Emma was considering her next move, my phone vibrated with a text notification. She idly glanced down.
Dave: What happened with that girl from the gym? Did you get her number?
Emma froze and reread the message. Then, half in a daze, she opened the conversation.
Dave: So did you manage to win her over then?
Me: Yeah, got her number. We agreed this weekend. At mine.
Emma stared in horror. This weekend? She had already planned to take Charlie to her mums and stay overnight…
Oh my god… she whispered, her heart twisting with pain. I wish I hadnt seen this. Bloody matching phone cases…
It took everything for Emma to pretend she knew nothing. Each day, looking at me was torture. Three days to go until Saturday, but her thoughts started circling. Maybe Im reading it wrong, she tried to reassure herself, but every time she saw me she remembered those words: This weekend. At mine.
I, of course, behaved just like always. Affectionate, helpful, ready to cook or put Charlie to bed. In the evenings, Id ask after her day and help tidy up. Shed search my face, trying to find answers to questions she couldnt voice, but saw not even a flicker of guilt which unsettled her even more.
On Wednesday evening, we watched TV together, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders as usual. Emma had to bite her lip not to burst into tears right there. My closeness made her feel more exposed than comforted her world suddenly felt perilously fragile. Every gesture took on a strange, rehearsed air, as though I were hiding something.
Friday night, after putting Charlie to bed, Emma stood by the kitchen sink, trailing her hand through the water. I came up behind her, hugged her around the waist, and murmured, Youre quiet tonight. Is everything okay?
She froze, a chill running along her spine.
Yes, Im just a bit tired, thats all, she managed, forcing a smile.
I get it, I whispered and kissed the top of her head.
That night, as I slept, Emma slipped out to the bathroom, locked the door, turned on the tap, and sat silently on the edge of the bath. Her composure dissolved and the tears came.
“Why?” she whispered through her sobs. “Why is this happening?”
She asked herself again and again, no answer ever coming. Her mind spun and spun.
How could he? What do I do now? Should I say something? Leave?
The pain in her chest was stifling, her thoughts flicking wildly between worry, hurt, and trying to make sense of it all.
But she knew one thing come morning, shed have to put on a brave face once more. And tomorrow, shed get the truth, one way or another.
Saturday morning, Emma dropped Charlie off at her mums in Sutton. Everything felt heavy; even walking was an effort. Her mum noticed straight away.
Emma, are you alright? her mother asked as she opened the door.
Emma forced a bright smile. Her voice came out oddly cheerful, Im fine, mum. Just a bit rushed want to surprise Chris. See you later! She pecked Charlie on the forehead, hurried out, and didnt dare look back for fear shed hesitate.
All the way home, Emmas mind was racing: What if hes just meeting Dave? What if the woman doesnt show? What if I just misunderstood?
She wanted to catch me in the act yes to see with her own eyes if I was meeting someone else. But she also desperately wished it was all a mistake, that she was wrong.
When she finally pulled up outside the house, Emma cut the engine and just sat there. Images flashed through her mind: me, laughing with her in the kitchen; both of us taking Charlie to the park; evenings slouched together in front of the telly. The family wed built. Now, sitting frozen in her car, she clung to each memory, almost trying to stretch out the happy moments before everything might shatter.
Cautiously, Emma climbed the stairs, pausing at the front door, keys trembling in her hand. She slid her key in and slowly turned it, as if stalling her entrance into whatever reality lay beyond. Inside, the flat was dark, just a faint lamp glowing in the kitchen. She heard lowered voices, laughter, whispers. She felt herself lock up inside.
This is it, she thought. Its all true.
She felt dizzy, but step by step, as if wading through fog, she walked down the hallway. Each footfall brought her closer to the unknown. Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
Chris? she whispered, her voice oddly robotic in the silent house.
Again, louder, Chris?!
Not getting a reply, she strode into the kitchen. There she found two people a man and a woman. Only the man wasnt me. It was Dave, my oldest mate. Emma stopped, stunned. Dave spun around and, seeing Emma, looked panicked.
Emma! Its not what it looks like Honestly, I swear you know what its like at ours! Emma, I couldnt exactly take her to my mums, could I…? He stumbled over his words, desperate to explain.
Emma barely heard him. She just stood there, overwhelmed, not understanding. A loud buzz droned in her ears, her heart and mind splitting in two. She felt the tears tracking silently down her cheeks before her face broke into an odd, unsteady smile.
I get it, Dave, she said quietly, choking back emotion. I should go.
She left, moving slowly out the door. The cold air stung her skin outside as she staggered away, confusion and relief flooding through her. She drew out her (my) phone, her fingers shaking as she found my number and called.
Hello… My voice crackled down the line, but Emma couldnt string two proper sentences together. What came out was raw, unexpected, almost childlike:
I love you… I really do…
Her words tumbled out in a strange mix of laughter and tears, all the worry and tension bubbling over at once. Thoughts darted in and out.
I went home, Dave was there… she whispered.
Ahh I see. Im sorry, love, please dont be angry. Im at the office right now. Want to come over? Please, dont be cross, darling You know Dave. Will you come?
Im on my way…
Emma dashed to the car, desperate to see me, to hold me close.
By that evening, Emma and I sat side by side on the floor in the office meeting room, a bottle of wine open before us. She leaned her head on my shoulder, absently rolling her glass in her hands.
Sorry. I wasnt trying to snoop on your messages. Ive never done that, I promise…
No, Im the one who should be sorry, for getting mixed up in Daves mess! I should have just told you everything from the start.
So, why did he ask you to do it?
Because Im his mate. Because the day before, hed made a complete fool out of himself in front of that gym girl.
How?
He crashed right into her and spilt a can of energy drink all down her white outfit she looked like a Smurf! Then, as always, he turned into a big kid. I cant! Im scared! Chris, help me out!
Here I started mimicking Daves voice and Emma cracked up laughing.
Hes my oldest mate, I felt sorry for him. I took her number, painted Dave in the best light, threw in a bit of banter and, hey presto job done.
So why bring her here and not to a hotel? Emma asked.
You remember why he still lives with his mum, right?
Because he wont fork out for rent and so his mum can cook for him, and wash and iron his socks…
Exactly, I said, giving her a knowing look.
Hes such a cheapskate! Emma burst out laughing.
Weve been mates for twenty years. Since primary school. I think Im the only person hell admit all this to, I said, grinning.
Oh, Chris You really are a true friend! Im impressed, she teased, shaking her head.
Wait. What if theyre still at ours? We cant exactly sleep in your office, Emma realised. And Im not going back home just now Let him deal with it.
I kissed her.
Im nothing like Dave, love. And honestly, I think we deserve a romantic night away.
Seriously? Are we going to a hotel?! she asked excitedly.
I nodded, then quickly scooped her up onto my shoulder. Emma laughed so hard she could barely breathe, wriggling as I held her firmly.
I promise you, youll get there safe and sound!
Emma laughed even louder, hardly able to believe that just hours before, shed been mourning her marriage in her heart.
