“Emma, be honestdoes this haircut suit me at all?” Olivia adjusted her fringe in the salon mirror and glanced anxiously at her friend.
“You look lovely! Seriously, its perfect,” Hannah reassured her, though her voice carried a hint of something forced. “It really takes years off you.”
Olivia turned to pay the stylist. The mirror reflected a woman in her forties with a fresh, youthful cutbut somehow, it didnt bring her any joy.
“Fancy grabbing a coffee?” Hannah suggested as they stepped outside. “Theres a new place just round the corner.”
“Sure,” Olivia agreed. “But quickIve got dinner to cook.”
They settled by the window. Hannah ordered a cappuccino and cake; Olivia stuck to tea.
“So, what does James think of the new look?” Hannah stirred her coffee casually.
“No idea.” Olivia shrugged. “He barely notices what I do. Wore a new dress yesterdaydidnt even glance my way.”
“Really?” Hannah leaned in. “I thought things were good between you.”
“Its complicated. Were like flatmates these days. Hes at work dawn till dusk, Im home dealing with chores. Weekends, hes off fishing or glued to the footie. Im either cleaning or visiting Mum.”
“Liv, when was the last time you did something together? Theatre, cinema, even just a walk?”
Olivia racked her brain but came up empty. “Honestly? Cant remember. Probably Sarahs birthday, three months back. And even then, we barely spoke.”
Hannah sighed. “Oh, love. He used to chase you like a lovesick puppy. Remember uni? Flowers every day, those terrible poems.”
“Yeah, well. That was twenty years ago. People change.”
“Not all of them.” Hannah smirked. “My Toms still romantic. Surprised me with orchestra tickets last weeksaid he missed culture.”
Olivia studied her friendglowing, happy. Same age, same school, worlds apart.
“Youre lucky,” she muttered.
“Lucks got nothing to do with it.” Hannah sliced her cake. “Its about effort. Not letting yourself go. And dont take this wrong, but youve well, stopped trying.”
“Whats that supposed to mean?”
“Be honest. Frumpy jumpers, no makeupwhen did you last hit the gym?”
Olivia flushed. Yes, shed gained a stone. Yes, shed prioritised laundry over lipstick. But between work and home, who had time?
“Hannah, Im not some Instagram model.”
“Its not about that. Men want a *woman*, not a housemaid. Maybe James drifted because you stopped being you know. *Interesting*.”
Olivia nodded stiffly, stomach churning. So *she* was to blame for their stale marriage?
On the way home, she bought new lipstick and mascara. That evening, she dressed upproper dress, full face.
James walked in at eight, eyebrows shooting up. “Guests coming?”
“No. Just felt like dressing up.”
“Right.” He washed up, then dug into dinner. “New haircut?”
“Today. Do you like it?”
James gave her a cursory glance. “Fine. Shorter.”
That was it. No compliments, no warmth. Olivia swallowed her disappointment.
“James, maybe we could do something this weekend? Its been ages.”
“Cant. Promised the lads Id help Tom build his shed.”
“Tom? Hannahs Tom?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“No reason.”
She cleared the table; he zoned out to telly. Another ordinary night.
—
Next day at work, Olivia couldnt focus. Maybe Hannah was right. Maybe she *had* let herself go.
At lunch, she bought gym gear and signed up for a class.
“Good for you,” James said that evening. “Healthy living.”
*Healthy.* Not *sexy*. She winced internally.
A month in, shed toned up, dropped half a stone. “Gorgeous!” Hannah gushed over coffee. “What does James say?”
“Just that I look well.”
“Odd. Maybe he needs a wake-up call.”
“Like what?”
Hannah lowered her voice. “Jealousy. Show him other men fancy you.”
“*Hannah*. Im married.”
“Im not saying cheat! Just flirt a bit. Make him worry he could lose you.”
Olivia shook her head. Games werent her style.
That night: same routine. James, polite but distant.
—
Then came the call.
“Liv, can I pop over? Need to talk.”
Hannah arrived flustered. “Toms cheating. Found a note in his jacket*disgusting* stuff.”
Olivia hugged her. “Are you sure?”
“Asked him straight out. Know what he said? *She understands me.*”
“But you always said he adored you!”
“*Lies.* I didnt want to admit we were struggling. I envied your stability.”
Olivia blinked. So Hannahs perfect marriage was a façade too?
“What now?”
“Dunno. Divorce? Or fight for him. Maybe counselling.”
They talked till late. Olivia left stunned.
—
Next morning, James shrugged over breakfast. “Shame for them. Though Tom said Hannah nags nonstopflowers, theatre, never lets up.”
Olivia frowned. “How would you feel if I demanded date nights?”
“Why? Homes fine. Works tiring enough.”
“Right.”
—
Saturday, baking Jamess favourite apple pie, she ran into neighbour Margaret.
“Olivia! Saw James yesterday with a *stunning* woman. Thought it was your sister?”
Olivias heart lurched. “No sister. Where?”
“Near that new café on High Street. So *gallant*, holding her arm!”
Olivia rushed home, hands shaking. An affair? While shed been sweating at spin class?
James came home late. “Work ran over.”
She didnt press. What if he lied?
—
Next lunch break, she stalked the café. An hour passednothing.
Then, bam.
James. With *her*. Tall, polished, mid-thirties. Laughing, touching his sleeve.
Olivia fled, nauseous.
—
Hannahs advice? “Follow him! Get proof!”
Reluctantly, Olivia agreed.
They tailed James to the café. The woman appearedpink coat, heeled boots.
“That her?” Hannah whispered.
“Yeah.”
Hannah paled. “Lets go.”
“Why?”
“*Now.*”
Outside, Hannah looked haunted. “I know her.”
“Who is she?”
“Marina. My coworker.”
Something in her tone felt off. Olivia let it drop.
—
Next evening, Hannah called. “Come over. Need to tell you something.”
Olivia arrived to a grim scene.
“I lied,” Hannah blurted. “Marinas my *friend*. *I* introduced her to James.”
Silence.
Olivia stood, icy. “You *knew*?”
“I didnt think theyd! It was just a work do. Then they kept meeting. I tried to stop it, but”
“You *let* this happen. Gave me *advice* while *helping* him cheat.”
Hannahs voice cracked. “I wanted to fix things”
Olivia turned to leave. “Thanks. You helped me see the truth.”
Next morning, she filed for divorce.
Not for revenge.
But because, for the first time in years, she chose *herself*.
