Monday, 14th November
I can still feel the sting of his stare as I watched James fumble with his shoes. The hallway was quiet except for the soft click of his laces. He muttered, For the kids, Emma. For the kids, not for her, as he tied the final knot. I wanted to argue, to tell him everything that churned inside, but my words lodged in my throat, forming a bitter knot.
He slipped his coat over his shoulders, said, It was fine before we got married, you knew I had children. I told you everything right away. You said you understood. And now? Tantrums? Interrogations? I clenched my teeth tighter, feeling the cold metal of the lock click behind him as he left. The apartment fell into a hollow silence.
I stood there for what felt like an eternity, my legs as heavy as lead. I collapsed onto the sofa, turned on some mindless sitcom, letting the background chatter drown the roar in my head. Three years with James, two of them as husband and wife. I knew from the start about the divorce, the two kidsa boy, Harry, and a girl, Lily. Hed mentioned them on our third date; Id smiled and said it was no problem, that I understood, that children werent an obstacle.
Now those words seemed naïve, foolish. I covered my eyes with my palm, inhaled deeply, and felt tears gathering, a pressure in my chest as if an invisible slab pressed down on me.
It became unbearable. Twice a weekTuesday and SaturdayJames would head to his ex-wife Claires house, saying he was just seeing the children. He stayed for dinner, lingered with Claire, laughing over nothing. I trusted him, or at least told myself I did, but an uneasy feeling gnawed at me, making my stomach churn.
When he left, the flat felt cavernous. I berated myself for not standing firm, for giving in to his promises, for staying silent when I should have shouted. I grabbed my phone and typed a frantic message to Lucy: Hes with her again.
The phone buzzed with an incoming callLucy.
Hello? I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
Emma, what are you doing? How long can you put up with this? Hes cheating you, its obvious, Lucy didnt mince words.
No, Lucy, you dont understand I started, but she cut me off.
I get it. Hes there twice a week, stays till midnight. And you expect him to be building Lego castles with the kids? She laughed bitterly.
I pressed a hand to my face. I knew she was right. Saying it out loud would make my marriage feel like a farce.
He says theres nothing between them, that hes only there for the children, I whispered.
Darling, youre so naive, Lucy sighed. A decent bloke wouldnt spend half an evening at his exs. Hed collect the kids, take them for a walk, then bring them back. Hes in her kitchen eating her borscht, probably holding her hand when the kids arent looking.
Enough, Lucy, I snapped, tightening my grip on the handset.
Fine. Remember what I said. Youll end up with him one more time, and then youll be the one left standing, she warned before hanging up.
I stared at the ceiling, the television blaring laughter that meant nothing to me.
James returned just before midnight, the hallway echoing with the sound of him stripping down. He slipped into the bathroom, and when he lay down beside me I caught the faint scent of someone elses perfumesweet, cloying.
I didnt ask why he was late; I didnt have the strength. He mumbled, Sorry Im late. Lily needed a craft for nursery, so I helped her. She made a little pinecone cowlooked funny. I nodded in the dark, though he couldnt see me.
The pattern repeated for monthsTuesday, Saturday, departure, return, foreign perfume, excuses.
Then James grew more withdrawn, spending evenings glued to his phone, brow furrowed. I tried to ask what was wrong; he brushed me off, muttering something indecipherable before disappearing into another room.
A few weeks later he announced, Listen, were going on a double date on Friday.
Who with? I asked, eyebrows raised.
Claire and her new boyfriend.
My heart dropped. Claire had a man? James wasnt with his ex? Had all my fears been misplaced? A smile flickered on my face as I turned to James, slipped my arms around his neck, and said, Of course, lets go.
Friday arrived quickly. I bought a new dressa light blue, figurehugging numberI wanted to look good, to show Claire that I could still be worthy of James.
We met at a cosy café on the other side of town, wooden tables and soft lighting. Claire sat with a man in his early forties, tall and athletic, smiling politely. Hello, Emma, she said, standing. This is Max.
Max shook Jamess hand, and they all settled in. I felt a hopeful flutter; perhaps the evening would pass harmlessly.
Instead, it turned into a nightmare. James acted as if he were trying to win Claire back, constantly interrupting Max, flaunting how well he knew her. When Max suggested ordering a peppery pizza, James blurted, Claire doesnt like spicy. Max replied calmly, I know, we already talked about it. You cut me off before I could say its for us.
James kept going, Remember the holiday at the seaside with the kids? Harry dragged a jellyfish onto the beach, thinking it was a toy. Claire nodded, irritation thinly veiled on her face.
So, James, she said, trying to steer the conversation, that was ages ago.
But he soldiered on, recounting story after story about the children, about choosing a pram together, about sleepless nights when Harry had colic. I sat there, clutching a glass of water, each of his words a fresh wound. Claires eyes flickered with annoyance, Max tried to intervene, but James seemed deaf to anyone else.
I realised then that James had never let go of Claire. He clung to their shared past, to the children, to memories that werent ours anymore. I was the extra, the spare part.
My phone buzzeda bank robocall. I pretended I was speaking to my mother about an urgent matter, whispered, Excuse me, I have to go, its important, and slipped out. No one stopped me; James didnt even glance up.
I hailed a cab, headed home. In the flat I opened a large suitcase and began packing. I could no longer endure his behaviour.
James staggered back an hour later, angry, his eyes narrowing at the suitcase at my feet.
Whats happening? he demanded.
I met his gaze, eyes dry, the last of my tears tucked between sweaters and jeans. Im leaving, I said simply.
Where to? he snapped.
Anywhere but here, I replied, pulling on my coat. Tonights dinner opened my eyes. You still love Claire, or at least cant let her go. I dont know whats worse.
He opened his mouth, but I raised a hand, stopping him. Dont lie. I saw how you acted. You tried to claim her as yours in front of Max. I was just a placeholder.
He was silent.
I wont be the spare part any longer, James, I continued, gripping the suitcase handle. I love you, but this love will burn out if I stay. Ill at least keep a sliver of my dignity.
He tried to call me back, Emma, wait
No, I said, shaking my head. I love you, but Im walking away. Ill keep whats left of me.
I stepped out the door. He watched me go, unmoving, offering no protest, no plea.
The taxi took me to my parents house. As the city lights blurred past, I thought of one thing: at last, I am free.
