“Alright, love, Ive got to dashthe lads are waiting! No time to lose! See you later!”
With those words, more than just their evening plans collapsed. Something inside Emily sank. Yesterday, shed stood by the stove, cooking for hours, and today shed rushed home after a gruelling day, excitedonly for this? A rushed meal and a guilty peck on the cheek?
“What do you mean, dash? Oliver, todays supposed to be *my* day!” she reminded her husband.
Oliver was already slipping on his trainers but straightened up, staring at her as if genuinely baffled.
“But weve already had our time,” he said, nodding at their plates. “Ate, had wine. Gave you that hair curler you wanted. Its just a Tuesday. Well do something proper Saturday when the lot come over.”
“But I wanted *you*, just us! Tonight, now!” Emily protested, feeling the shadow of loneliness creeping in.
Oliver sighed, spreading his hands.
“Come on, love. Its not like Im off gallivantingits game night with the boys. Theyre counting on me.”
His words felt like a slap. *They* were counting on him. Hadnt *she* waited too? Shed hoped for one eveningjust onewhere it was just them, without his mates. But apparently, even that was too much to ask.
“Sod off, Oliver,” Emily snapped, turning away. “But just knowthis mattered to me. A lot. We might as well be flatmates at this point.”
He shrugged, carefree as if shed just complained about the telly choice. But this wasnt about her birthday. It was a scream from her soul. Lately, with Oliver, shed never felt more alone.
—
It had started long ago. If she were honest, shed reaped what shed sown. Shed chosen Oliver because he was fun and easy. But what worked for dating rarely worked for marriage.
When theyd first met, hed dragged her to his social circlesnot clubs with flashing lights, but board game cafés. No drunken brawls, just polite, clever banter.
Emily had grown up in a house where her father drank himself into oblivion and her mothers voice was a constant lament. With Oliver, shed tasted a calmer, safer world. Shed missed out on childhood, and with him, shed tried to reclaim it.
When he proposed, shed been over the moon. He seemed like the kind of man you could build a life withcheerful, sharp, reliable. Financially, he was comfortable too, thanks to an inheritance that let him work part-time, remotely, avoiding commutes.
The first weeks of marriage felt like a fairy tale. Oliver whisked her awaytrips across the UK, seaside escapes, late-night talks. Shed felt like a princess.
Then reality hit. The moment they returned, the carriage turned back into a pumpkin. That very evening, Oliver vanished, leaving her to unpack and cook.
“The ladsll think Ive gone AWOL,” hed said. “Just popping round to show em the holiday snaps.”
At the time, shed brushed it off. Strong friendships were good, right?
But it kept happening. And each time, Emily was left alone with the illusion of a marriage.
—
The past months flashed through her mind.
Shed return home drainednine-hour shifts, traffic, the endless race to keep up. Of course, shed lost interest in his social scene. Shed open the door to find Oliver in his gaming chair, headphones on, laughing loudly. A dirty plate and empty fizzy drink cans littered the desk.
“Oliver, take the bins out, please,” shed murmur, stacking dishes.
“Righto, love! Just finishing up with the lads, then Ill sort it,” hed promise.
“Just finishing” stretched into hours. Eventually, shed haul the bags out herselfbecause *she* needed to cook. Because *she* couldnt stand the stench.
It was the same with everything.
Hed stay up till dawn, shouting over voice chat while she tried to sleep.
They lived side by side, not together. Like siblings in separate worlds.
Shed tried explaining, but he never understood.
“What more dyou want? Im home most days. I cant be glued to you,” hed say.
All she wanted was his attention. Just *being* there.
Eventually, shed confided in her friends. Sophie, ever the optimist, had urged patience:
“Count yourself lucky! My blokes off on construction jobs up northIm raising two kids solo. Youve got it made!”
Lydia, blunt as ever, disagreed:
“Ive been there. Youre lonely *with* him. Just a live-in maid. Hes not ready for marriagestill a lad at heart. Have a kid? Youll never see him.”
The words stuck. For a while, Emily wavered. Maybe Sophie was rightOliver was decent, responsible. Maybe she should endure.
But now, sitting alone on her birthday with salads and wine going to waste, she knew: she didnt want Sophies life. She wouldnt settle for scraps.
The roasted meat cooled on the table. The salads, untouched. Shed shopped, cooked, left work earlyjust for a shred of celebration.
And Oliver? Hed shrugged, grabbed his jacket, and left. Again.
She couldnt do it anymore. Not today. She called a cab and went to her mums.
Margaret had lived alone for years. She hugged Emily tight, took one look at her red-rimmed eyes, and listened.
“Sod him,” she said finally. “Well celebrate. Fancy a takeaway?”
That evening, Emily remembered what family felt likeflawed, but present. They talked, really talked. Oliver hadnt *listened* in ages.
So when he called late that night, she ignored him. She only answered in the morning.
“Where were you all night?”
“At Mums. Celebrating with people who care.”
“Emdont be daft. Come home. I didnt do anything wrong!”
“No. You didnt *do* anything. Youre just absent.”
“Bloody hell! We had dinner, didnt we? Whats the fuss?”
“Oh yes. Five whole minutes before you bolted.”
“Em, its not like Im cheating! Dont make a mountain out of a molehill.”
“Know what? Cheating Id understand. At least Id know what Im fighting. But this? Your *real* familys your mates. Im just background noise.”
Silence. Oliver had no answer.
“Oliver,” she said finally, “I didnt want this, but choose. Them or me.”
“Straight to ultimatums, eh? You know I love you. But mates dont ditch mates”
Emily exhaled. Suddenly, everything was clear.
“Then live with your mates.”
She hung up and went to breakfast. Margaret had made her favourite pancakes. She criedhardbut then, relief. Heavy as it was, the weight was gone.
She returned only for her things. Oliver barely glanced up from his screen. Just muted his mic.
He stayed in his worldgames, lads, eternal adolescence. She walked into hersone where she deserved more than the sidelines.
Theyd never been on the same path.
