Stop worrying, love, David said, pulling Emma gently around her shoulders and squeezing her close. Weve still got plenty of time ahead of us. Well have a baby somedayone that looks a bit like you and a bit like me. Hear me out. Absolutely, absolutely.
Emma nodded, her face pressed against his shoulder. She wanted to believe him, desperately. But a cold, heavy weight had settled in her chest, making each breath feel shallow. Three years of marriage. Three years of hopeful plans, dashed expectations. Three years of endless trips to the GP, endless blood tests and scansnone of which delivered any good news.
I know, she whispered, though even she wasnt sure she believed it herself.
David planted a kiss on the top of her head. Warmth flickered back for a moment, but Emma now felt he was simply wearing a mask, hiding disappointment and anger behind a smile.
At first David kept his promises. He was there, supportive, caring. Hed bring flowers for no reason, whip up a full English breakfast on lazy weekends, and hug her at night when she broke down in tears after yet another negative test. Kind, patient, lovingat least thats how he seemed.
Then things began to shift, almost imperceptibly. David started staying late at the office, then the occasional work trip, then more and more. He stopped giving her a goodnight cuddle. When she tried to curl up next to him on the sofa, hed pull away. Their conversations grew short, formal, reduced to oneliners and vacant stares.
Emma told herself it was temporary, that David was just worn out from the endless tension, the waiting, the letdowns. She convinced herself that things would sort themselves outjust needed a little patience.
And so a year and a half slipped by.
Emma, we need to talk, David said one evening while she was washing the dishes after dinner.
She froze, plate midway to the sink. His tone was so solemn, so official, it felt like a courtroom summons. She turned slowly toward him.
About what? she asked, her voice sounding strange to her own ears.
Im filing for divorce.
Four words. Four tiny bullets that shattered Emmas world. The plate slipped from her hands, crashing onto the linoleum. She stood still, eyes wide, trying to process the blow.
What? she gasped.
Sorry, David said, looking away. I cant do this any longer. Im tired of waiting, tired of hoping. This isnt the life I imagined. I want children, a proper family. But were not a couple any morewere just two people under the same roof. Its time to stop pretending everythings fine.
Emma sank into a chair, legs trembling, mind a hollow void.
I dont blame you, David continued. It just happened this way. I cant keep faking contentment. Im sorry. He turned and left the kitchen. Emma heard the soft click of the bedroom door closing behind him, then a deafening silence.
Time blurred into one grey smear. Emma went on working, cooking for herself, tidying the flatexactly the same routine as before, but inside there was a yawning chasm. Loneliness wrapped around her like a cold fog you cant shake off.
She blamed herself for everything: for not keeping the marriage together, for not giving David what he wanted.
The only bright spot in that darkness was Lily, a mate from their university days. Lily and Emma had spent years sharing secrets, dreaming about the future, and it was Lily who showed up with scones and tea after David left. She sat beside Emma, hugged her, listened without lecturing. No advice, no moralisingjust presence.
Itll be alright, Emma, Lily soothed, rubbing her back. Youre strong enough to get through this.
Emma nodded, though belief was thin. Lilys warmth reminded her she wasnt completely alone.
They met weekly, either at a cosy café in Camden or at someones flat. Lily talked about her job, her husband, her plans. Emma tried to celebrate Lilys happiness, even as a knot of pain tightened inside her. Lily had a stable family, a loving husbandeverything Emma felt shed lost.
But slowly odd things crept in. Lily started replying to messages less often, cancelling meetups at the last minute. Her smile became forced, her eyes darted away. She always seemed in a hurry to leave, citing urgent errands.
It wasnt just Lily. Their whole friend circle seemed to drift apart. The group chat went quiet; nobody pinged Emma first. Invitations stopped. She felt as if shed become an invisible guest that everyone politely ignored.
Emma tried to shrug it off. Perhaps they were busy, each with their own lives. Still, a chill of anxiety settled somewhere in her chest and wouldnt leave.
Then Lilys birthday rolled around. Emma remembered the date perfectlytheyd always celebrated together since freshers week, with cake, champagne, laughter that lasted till the early hours. This year, however, there was no invitation, no call, no text. Emma waited all day, hoping Lily had simply forgotten, but the phone stayed silent.
By evening Emma could take it no longer. She bought Lilys longwanted cashmere scarf, wrapped it neatly, and walked over to Lilys flat just to wish her a happy birthday and prove she still cared.
Up the stairwell she heard muffled music and voices spilling outsomewhere a party was in full swing.
She paused, gathering courage, then knocked. The music didnt stop. After a minute the door swung open.
There stood Lily, elegant in a dress, glass of prosecco in hand. Her smile froze when she saw Emma, eyes widening as if shed been caught offguard.
Emma, Lily breathed. Whatwhat are you doing here?
I came to wish you a happy birthday, Emma said, handing over the gift, forcing a smile despite the lump in her throat. Happy birthday.
Lily didnt take the present. She planted herself in the doorway, looking at Emma as though shed been handed something unpleasant she wanted to get rid of quickly.
Umthanks, but Lily stammered.
Why wasnt I invited? Emma blurted, unable to hold back any longer. We always celebrated together. Whats happened, Lily? Why am I being ignored?
Lily averted her gaze, ran a hand through her hair. Laughter rose from inside the flat. Emma glanced through the open door and saw a sight that made her heart stop.
David, her exhusband, was standing at a table, arms around a smiling, blondhaired woman. He leaned in and kissed hera long, tender kiss.
Emma could barely breathe. The world swirled. David was at Lilys birthday, with another woman, and she hadnt even been invited.
Lily seized Emmas hand and pulled her into the stairwell, closing the door behind them.
Emma, listen Lily began.
Explainwhats going on? Why is he here? Why didnt you invite me? Emma demanded, voice shaking.
Lily exhaled heavily, leaning against the wall. We sort of became friends after your split you know, David was my best friends husband. We kept chatting, and after the divorce I thought why stop? Hes a decent bloke, fun to be with.
So you chose his side, Emma snapped, feeling the temperature drop inside her. You chose him? Weve been mates since university, Lily. How could you?
Emma, it isnt that simple, Lily crossed her arms. Hes less moody. He doesnt dwell on problems, you know? Nobody wanted to hear the endless complaints any more. It was wearing everyone out. We thought itd be easier for all of us if
Emma stared at Lily, hardly recognising the woman before her. The words came out as casually as talking about the weather.
And besides, Lily hurried on, Davids all set now. Hes in a new relationship, theyre planning a wedding, the girls expecting. Everythings falling into place for him. We didnt want an awkward scene at the party, did we?
Emmas head bobbed slightly, mechanically. Inside, something finally snapped. David would soon be a father, with a fresh life, a perfect familyeverything hed ever wanted but never had with her.
Meanwhile, Emma seemed to have become utterly useless.
I understand, Emma whispered, handing Lily the scarf. Here, take it. Happy birthday.
Lily took the box without looking up.
For years of friendship, you could have said this to my face, Emma continued, meeting Lilys eyes. Instead you hide behind excuses only when the truth surfaces. I thought we were honest with each other. I guess I was wrong.
Lily stayed silent, eyes fixed on the floor, clutching the gift.
Happy birthday, Emma finished, turning toward the stairs. Enjoy your celebration. From me
Her footsteps echoed down the stairwell, each step a heavy thud. She clutched the railing, legs wobbling, breath shallow. She just wanted to make it to the street.
Cold air hit her lungs as she stepped out onto the deserted pavement. Tears shed been holding back burst forth, hot and relentless, streaming down her cheeks. She walked aimlessly, sobbing for the pain, the betrayal, the loneliness.
In less than a year shed lost a husband and, it seemed, every friend shed ever considered close. The old saying about true friends being revealed in trouble rang trueshe realised she had none left, perhaps never had any.
Emma dabbed at her eyes and trudged home, to a flat where nobody waited. Yet a faint, stubborn hope flickered in her chest that this wasnt forever, and that, somehow, everything that happens does so for a reason.
