The same three Saturdays in a row, Emily had left the house for work. What Mark discovered turned everything upside down.
Late again? He tried to keep his voice steady, but it betrayed him with a tremor.
Emily froze, her hand gripping her bag. She turned slowly, as if buying time.
Yeah, the projects a nightmare. The boss is losing itwere all running around.
On a Saturday? For the third week?
Mark, dont be childish. Work is work.
She kissed his cheekquick, perfunctory, like a neighbour in a lift. She smelled wrong. Not her usual perfume. Something sweet, milky. Mark frowned.
Em, can we talk?
Tonight. Everything tonight, alright?
The door slammed. Mark stood in the hallway, fists clenched. The third Saturday. The third bloody Saturday shed left early and returned exhausted, silent, a stranger.
He couldnt take it anymore. He grabbed the car keys.
Emily stepped out of the building, glancing around. Mark ducked in the drivers seatthankfully parked behind a van. She hailed a cab. He started the engine.
They drove for ages. Not to her officehe knew that immediately. To some housing estate on the other side of London. His heart hammered. Hed see now. Everything would make sense.
She got out near a weathered five-storey block. Mark parked down the road, following at a distance. She disappeared inside. He waited, counting floors by the windows. Third. Left side.
Half an hour passed. Then Emily reappeared.
With a pram.
Mark nearly stumbled. A baby? They didnt have children. Theyd only just started talking about itbefore these Saturdays began.
The baby wailed. Emily rocked the pram, murmuring something. She looked lost, unsure. Then a girl rushed outEmilys younger sister, Lily. Flighty Lily, twenty-five and already divorced twice.
Em, thank you! Ill be quicktwo hours max!
Lily, you said one!
Please! I really need this!
Lily bolted, leaving her sister with a screaming infant. Emily pushed the pram helplessly.
Mark stepped back, leaning against the wall. So, not an affair. A nephew. But why the lies?
He drove home, needing to beat Emily back. Needing to think.
Inside, he paced. He could just ask. Em, where were you? But shed liehe knew it. Just as hed lied.
Because he had a secret too.
Claire. The receptionist from the next department. Nothing seriousjust coffees, chats, the occasional film. She laughed at his jokes, listened to him rant about coding, looked at him the way Emily used to. Before their life became shopping lists, bills, pick up your socks.
With Claire, it was easy. She reminded him of the Emily hed fallen for seven years agobright, carefree, hanging on his every word.
Keys rattled in the lock. Mark jumped, snatching the remote, flicking on the telly.
Hi. Emily peeked in. Youve been here all day?
Yeah. Couldnt be bothered going out.
She moved to the kitchen. Water ran. Dishes clinked. He followed.
Emily stood at the sink, scrubbing a mug. Shoulders slumped, shadows under her eyes. A stain on her jeansbaby formula, maybe.
Em.
What?
Youre exhausted.
She turned, startled.
Yeah. I am.
Lets go out. That Italian place from our anniversary?
Mark, Im knackered. Lets just order pizza.
He nodded, watching her fumble with her phone. Her hands shook.
Em, whats going on?
What?
Youve been different. For weeks.
She froze. The phone slipped, clattering onto the table.
Its just work, Mark. A lot of work.
On Saturdays?
Yes! On Saturdays! Stop nagging!
Her voice cracked. She was close to tears. He pulled her into a hug. She stiffened, then sagged against him, burying her face in his shoulder.
Sorry. Im just so tired.
She smelled of baby powder and something sour. Spit-up, probably. He rubbed her back, feeling her heart race.
Em, if somethings wrong, tell me. Im not a stranger.
She pulled back, wiping her eyes.
Its fine. Honestly. Just a rough patch. Itll pass.
The pizza arrived forty minutes later. They ate in silence, avoiding each others eyes. Emily showered. Mark stared at a cold slice of pepperoni.
He could say it. Em, I saw you with a pram. Is that Lilys kid? But then hed have to admit hed followed her. And shed ask, Where were you on Fridays?
What would he say? That hed been in a café with another woman? That he told her things he no longer told his wife? That sometimes he wonderedwhat if?
His phone buzzed. A text from Claire: Still on for Monday? Want to show you that film.
Mark deleted it. No. They werent. Enough.
Emily emerged in a towel robe, hair damp, face flushed. She sat beside him.
Mark, lets stay in tomorrow. Just us.
What about work?
Sod work.
He smiled. When had she last said that?
Alright. Just us.
She took his hand. Her fingers were cold despite the shower.
We lost something, didnt we?
What?
Us. We lost us.
Mark squeezed her hand.
Well find it.
They woke late. Emily made pancakesfirst time in a year. Mark brewed coffee, sliced fruit. They ate on the balcony despite the chill.
Remember breakfast in Paris? she said. That tiny terrace?
Where you nearly dropped a cup on some poor bloke?
I did not! It was an accident!
They laughed. How long since theyd laughed together?
The day passed oddly. Like playing newlyweds. They binged a show curled up on the sofa. Cooked togetherMark chopping, Emily stirring. No talk of work, money, plans. Just the moment.
That night, Emily fell asleep against his shoulder. He studied her facerelaxed, peaceful. The frown between her brows smoothed away. She looked like the girl whod spilled coffee on his shirt seven years ago. Oh God, sorry! Let me pay for dry cleaning! Oror buy you another coffee?
Hed bought her one instead. Then another. Then dinner. Then a ring.
She stirred, murmuring in her sleep. He tucked a blanket around her.
Monday, he went to Claire.
Hi! Thought you forgot about the film
Claire, we need to talk.
Her smile faltered. She understood.
Your wife?
Yeah. No. I meanI cant do this.
Mark, nothing happened.
Exactly. And nothing will. Im sorry.
She nodded, turning to her screen.
Go. Just go.
He left. His chest felt heavy and light at once. It was time.
Emily wasnt home. A note on the fridge: Back by seven. Dinner in the oven.
He reheated the food, set the table. Emily arrived, jittery.
Mark, I need to tell you something.
He froze. Here it was.
Lilys got a son. Four months old. The dad bolted when he found out. Shes broke, no job. IveIve been helping. Watching him while she goes to interviews. Or just so she can breathe. Sorry I didnt say. Thought youd hate it.
Why would I?
Were trying for our own. And Im looking after hers. Giving her money sometimes. From my pay.
He stood, pulling her into a hug.
You idiot. Of course you help her. Shes your sister.
Emily sobbed into his chest.
Im so tired of lying.
No more lies.
He thought of Claire. His own deceit. But it wasnt the same. It was nothing. Just chats. Just
Mark, what about you? Any secrets?
His heart skipped.
No. WellEm, sometimes I wasnt at work. I was at the pub with mates. Just needed to talk. Felt grim at home.
Not the full truth. But not a lie. Claire had been there sometimes.
Grim, Emily repeated. Yeah. I get that.
They held each other in the kitchen. Then ate, talking about the babyOliver, apparently. Lilys new job at a shop. Visiting properly, no more secrets.
Lets do it, Mark said suddenly. Lets have ours
