Youre in deep now, mate
James wasnt in a hurry to return home after work. Not that his rented flat in Manchester felt much like homejust a temporary stopgap. He took the long way back, watching the rain hammer against the car windows while the wind tore leaves from the trees. One yellow leaf clung stubbornly to the passenger-side wiper. Summer was well and truly over. His dad used to say, *”Like wife, like weather.”*
His father. No saint, that one. A drinker, sure, but James had loved those nights when hed come home tipsysoftened by the ale, slipping a few quid into his sons pocket. The next day, James would dash to the shops after school, dreaming of a pocketknife like Simons or a bottle of Coke with a bag of crisps.
Simpler times. Back when life felt easy, when his parents were there to shield him, explain things, give advice. And there, tucked in those distant memories, was a girlEmily. Fragile, with fair hair and clear blue eyes. A strong breeze mightve carried her away, so hed always held her hand.
But they never had the chance to grow into something more. Hed kissed her just once, a fleeting press of lips against lips. All hed wanted was to walk forever, hand in hand with her.
Emilys father was in the military. Shed joined their school in Year Seven, then vanished in Year Ten when he got reassignedoff to Birmingham with the rest of her family.
How many times had he thought of calling or texting? But what then? They werent coming back, and hed never end up in Birmingham. Why stir up hope? Maybe shed thought the same, because she never reached out either.
Yet her memory lingered in his heart. Every girl he met after resembled Emily in some way, though none matched the imagereal or imaginedhe clung to.
Then he married someone entirely different. Or rather, she married him. Olivia wasnt his typetheyd shared a university course, and shed dated other blokes. But after their third year, they interned at the same company. Theyd walk home together. Olivia was from some village, though she insisted it was a *town*.
Summer emptied the dorms. Most students left for home, but Olivia stayed. One evening, she invited James over. *”Made a proper cottage pie,”* she said. *”Too much for one.”*
His mates had warned himcountry girls were crafty, looking to trap a city lad for a visa and a council flat. *”Watch yourself,”* theyd said. *”Next thing you know, shes accidentally pregnant.”*
The pie *was* goodbetter than his mums. Then came the inevitable. At the last second, James hesitated, but Olivia swore she was on the pill. They spent the rest of the internship tangled up. He didnt love her. It wasnt like with Emily.
Term started, and they barely spokeuntil Olivia cornered him in the corridor a month later. *”Im pregnant.”*
*”You said you were on the pill!”*
*”Missed a dose or two. Never had a problem before.”* She bit her lip. *”Im scared to get rid of itwhat if I cant have kids after?”*
He pitied her. And hed grown used to her. His parents took the news better than expected. Olivia impressed his mum by helping with dinner, sneaking in cooking tips.
*”Practical girl,”* his mum said approvingly. *”At least I wont worry about you starving.”*
They married before New Yearswhite dress, cake, daft games. The lads teased him as he carried Olivia over the bridge: *”Might as well get used to marching, Jim. Youre stuck now.”* She wasnt light, but he managed without dropping her.
Thats when it hit himhe was trapped.
At first, married life wasnt bad. His parents scraped together a deposit for a one-bed flat. Olivia nested, the fridge stayed stocked, and his mum praised her endlessly.
Then the baby came. Olivia took a gap year. His mum helped when she could, but James switched to night shifts. Exhaustion became his normal. Little Sophie cried nonstop. The moment he walked in, Olivia shoved her into his arms. But his mum had a magic touchSophie would quiet instantly, leaving Olivia to rest while his mum cooked.
*”Dont rush into another one,”* shed whisper on her way out.
Olivia, suddenly meticulous, never missed her pill. *Wish shed been this careful earlier.*
As Sophie grew, the flat shrank. James graduated but bounced between jobslow pay or dodgy schemes.
*”No one gets rich honestly,”* Olivia snapped when he quit again. *”Everyone else manages. Why cant you?”*
But he couldnt stomach cheating. He scraped by alone until Olivia finished her degree, landing a PA job. Still, money was tight.
*”Maybe cut back on the outfits?”* he grumbled.
*”Im the directors face. I have to look the part.”* She glared. *”You couldve aimed higher.”*
She worked late oftenmeetings, clients. James stewed, fights became routine. Then one night, Olivia said the words: *”Whats the point anymore?”*
*”Knew it was coming,”* he admitted. *”Found someone richer?”*
*”If youd listened, we wouldnt be here.”*
*”You never loved me. I was just your ticket out of the sticks.”*
*”Youve never lived in a village,”* she shot back. *”Try hauling water and chopping wood.”*
James smirked. Finally, she admitted it.
*”Pack my things. Ill take too much otherwise.”*
She did, neatly. He rented a flat instead of crawling back to his parents. Alone nowno family, no home, just child support. He drank. Vodka became his bedtime ritual. His neighbour, equally miserable, envied him: *”Lucky sod. No wife nagging you to death.”* Yet the moment *his* wife called, hed scamper home.
After losing yet another job, James knew he had to quit drinkingor sink for good.
*”Got any booze?”* his neighbour asked one night.
*”Gave it up. Got a job leadneed to look sharp.”*
*”Right. Cheers anyway.”*
Alone, James stared out the window as lights flickered off in distant flats. A mate got him a courier gig with Amazon. One delivery took him to a small house where the door opened to a girl who knocked the breath from him*Emilys double.*
*”Do you assemble furniture?”* she asked.
*”Just deliveries. Need help?”* He couldnt say no. *”Ill come back after eight.”*
All day, he thought of her. He rushed home to change, arriving late.
*”Sorry,”* he muttered.
*”No worries.”*
Two hours assembling a wardrobe. The smell of roasting meat taunted himhed barely eaten. When done, she invited him to the kitchen. *”Grace,”* she said. Hed pegged her for a student, but she proudly declared she worked.
No reason to stay. He refused payment, lingering at the door. Thenimpulsehe kissed her. Just a brush of lips. She didnt pull away. He kissed her properly.
*”Sorry,”* he blurted, fleeing.
Grace called days later. *”Come over?”*
He went, braced for a repair job. But shed just cooked for him.
*”Grace, Im not for you,”* he said bluntly. *”Divorced. Paying child support. No home. A month ago, I was a drunk. Youre youngfind someone better.”*
He left, heart heavy. All he wanted was to stayto wander London with her, hand in hand.
But he couldnt ruin her life.
Then her address popped up on his delivery list. A small box. He called ahead, sat in his car for ten minutes, nerves twisting.
*”Check its all there,”* he said stiffly, avoiding her eyes. But when he looked*God.* He kissed her again, unable to stop.
*”I have more deliveries,”* he lied, pulling away. *”But Ill come back. I swear.”*
He raced to her that evening, forgetting flowers, still in his work clothes. The smell of steak hit him on the stairs. Grace opened the door smiling.
In her tiny bathroom, he avoided the mirror. At the table, watching her move in her apron, he thought, *This is what a wife does.* He pulled her close, resting his head against her.
*”Dinners getting cold,”* she whispered.
After, he couldnt leave. She touched his shoulders. *”Stay.”*
He did
