You chose the job, not me.
I cant believe my ears! It just doesnt make sense! Emma shouted, holding onto the edge of the table. Your damned job, the endless urgent calls, the endless trips! She swatted her coffee mug off the desk; it smashed against the wall, spilling cold brew everywhere. The broken pieces scattered on the floor like confetti.
Stop losing it, love, youre acting like a child, James said, his voice flat, which irritated Emma even more. Inside she was a volcano, while he stood there like a statue. I cant cancel this business trip, you have to understand. Its tied to my promotion.
Promotion?! Emma choked on her anger. Your promotion always trumps us! Remember you missed Poppys graduation, didnt even call on my anniversary after I reminded you a week ahead! And now youre being shipped off to Manchester!
To London, James muttered automatically, then bit his tongue.
Even to the Moon! Emma flailed her arms like a windmill. You wont be there when the anaesthetic is given to our son! When hes terrified, when Im shaking against the wall! All because of some pointless piece of paper with your signature!
James let out a whistling sigh and ran a hand over his face. Dark circles under his eyes, stubble rough, but his stare was as stubborn as ever.
Its a ridiculous contract Its a chance to become finance director, you realise? Ive been working toward this for twenty years, my whole life. Milos operation is routine, why are you so wound up? Its just tonsils, not a brain tumour.
Yeah, right. What if something goes wrong? Complications? Emma dug her nails into her palm. What will we do then?
Nothing will happen, he brushed off. Ive spoken to the surgeon personally.
And if it does? she pressed, already on the ultrasound.
Sit down, love. He shrugged his shoulders. If anything happens Ill catch the next flight, just like when Poppy needed an appendicectomy, remember?
I remember, Emma said with a bitter smile. You showed up eight hours after the surgery, when the doctors had gone home and the surgeon was just getting off the operating table!
James shook his head.
Im not a rubber band, Emma, I cant split in two. Im grinding away so you have everything you need. Forgot how you nagged me about the new flat? Lets move, the neighbours are noisy, the gardens a mess, the tubes far
Wed have been happy in a council flat then! Emma snapped, sarcasm dripping. But at least with a decent husband and a dad who actually sees his kids sometimes, not just on Sunday afternoons!
James plonked himself onto a chair, his ninetykilogram self collapsing onto it.
Listen, we agreed. Youre at home with the kids, the house, the comfort. Im at work pulling the strings, bringing the money in. What changed? When did it become a problem?
Emma opened her mouth to fire back, but the front door burst open. The hallway filled with the clatter of backpacks and the chatter of their children.
Fine, well talk later, she muttered, slipping out of the kitchen with a forced smile that made her cheeks tighten.
James opened his laptop. He still had to finish a presentation by evening, but his mind was a fog of nothing useful.
That night, after the kids were asleep, Emma sat at the kitchen table scrolling through her phone without really seeing anything. She wasnt crying, but inside she felt numb. Twentytwo years of marriage, and each year the relationship seemed more like a spreadsheet: income, expenses, assets, liabilities. When did it get this complicated?
James slipped into the kitchen and sat opposite her.
Coffee? Emma asked, eyes still on the screen.
Sure, he replied. Emma, we need to talk.
About what? she said, flicking the electric kettle on. Everythings already clear. Youre flying out the day after tomorrow. Well take Milo to the hospital on our own.
Listen, James moved closer, laying his hands gently on her shoulders. I know its hard for you. But this is really important to me.
More important than us? Emma turned, seeing tiredness rather than anger in his eyes.
Everything I do is for you, he whispered.
No, James, its for you. For your ego, for your career. Were on the back burner.
Thats not true, he tried to protest.
It is. When Milo talked about his operation, what did he say? Good thing its during dads trip, otherwise Id be nervous about missing work. Hes eleven and already adjusts his schedule to yours.
James was silent, words failing him.
And Katya asked yesterday if youd come to her university graduation next year. Not because she wants to see you, but because she fears youll be busy with important stuff again.
Ill try to be there, James muttered.
Try, right. Always try. And remember when you chose work over me after my miscarriage ten years ago? You flew back two days later, after a meeting in China, while I was just discharged from the hospital.
I had a negotiation in China, he started.
Exactly. You had a negotiation. I lost a child and was left alone.
She turned to the coffee grinder, methodically filling it with beans.
You never talked about that, James said softly.
What would that change? Emma shrugged. Youd apologise, promise it wont happen again, then do the same thing next time.
Maybe you should see someone, James suggested. A therapist.
Of course, Emma smirked. Its my fault, isnt it? Not that my husband turned into a walking paycheck, but that Im not positive enough about it?
Thats not what I meant, James shook his head. Youre just dramatising.
Dramatising? Emma spun around. When was the last time you attended a parentteacher meeting? Do you even know who Milos form teacher is? What dissertation is Poppy writing?
James stayed quiet.
Exactly, Emma said, placing a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. Youve missed our life, James, and you keep missing it.
He sipped the brew, grimacing at its bitternessjust like every time Emma was upset.
I can take a summer holiday, he offered. We could go somewhere as a family.
Poppy is heading to Brighton with friends, and Milos signed up for a football camp.
You could have told me before you started planning! Jamess voice finally edged with irritation.
I warned you, twice. You said Fine, plan it, well see later. We did.
James rubbed his eyes.
Sorry, I cant remember.
You know what scares me most? Emma looked over his shoulder. Im starting to think Im better off without you. When youre home, I keep hoping youll be there in spirit, not just financially. And Im always let down.
What do you want from me? To quit the promotion? To quit? James asked.
I want a dad, not just a breadwinner. I want a husband, not a flatmate who only stays over occasionally.
I cant quit my career at fifty, James said firmly. Its too late to start over.
No ones asking you to quit, just to find balance.
Im trying! he raised his voice, then quickly lowered it, remembering the sleeping kids. Im really trying, Emma. But you have to understand my role
Your role, your salary, your responsibilitiesI’ve heard that song a hundred times. The kids grow up and you dont even see them, and neither do I.
Thats unfair, James shook his head. I always try to spend weekends with the family.
When work wasnt urgent, which was maybe once a month. Emma added.
Silence fell. Outside, traffic rumbled, and inside the ticking clock and the hum of the fridge were the only sounds.
I cant cancel the trip, James finally said. But Ill ask to push it back a day so I can take Milo to the hospital.
Youve already bought the tickets, Emma reminded him.
Ill change them, he said decisively. And Ill call every hour until they tell me the surgery went well.
Emma gave a halfsmile.
Do you think thatll fix everything?
No, James admitted. But its a start. I dont want to lose you, Emma. I really dont.
The thing is, youve already almost lost us, she whispered. Im not sure it can be fixed.
In the hospital corridor, voices echoed and footsteps clattered. Emma sat in a hard chair outside the operating theatre, gripping the strap of her bag. Milo had been inside for over an hour, though the surgeon promised it would be a fortyminute procedure.
Next to her, Poppy stared at her phone, occasionally glancing anxiously at the theatre doors.
Wheres dad? Poppy asked suddenly, not looking away from the screen.
Hes on a business trip.
He said hed call.
Emma checked her watch.
He must be in a meeting, probably forgot.
Typical, Poppy muttered.
Emma wanted to answer, but the operating theatre doors swung open and a surgeon in a green mask emerged, his chin tucked under the mask.
All went well, he said, smiling. Milos in recovery, should be moved to a ward soon. You can visit in an hour.
Thank you, doctor, Emma breathed, tears of relief welling up.
Poppy squeezed her mothers hand.
We should call dad, she said.
Emma dialed his number, only to hear voicemail.
Hes not answering. Ill text him.
She typed quickly: Surgery went fine. Milos in recovery, doctors say hes okay.
No reply came for five minutes, then half an hour later, as they sipped tea with biscuits in the waiting room.
Mum, are you and dad getting a divorce? Poppy asked, looking into her cup.
Where did that come from? Emma asked, surprised.
Youre always fighting when you think we cant hear. And dads never home. Youre always sad when he leaves.
Emma looked at her daughter, wondering how shed become so perceptive.
Were going through a tough patch, Emma said gently. That doesnt mean we dont love each other.
Vicky from next class said the same, then her parents split up, Poppy added.
Emma didnt know what to say, so she asked,
How do you feel about it?
I dont know. Its weird. Ill be sad if dad leaves, but hes hardly ever around, so maybe not much will change.
Nobodys going anywhere, Emma said, though her confidence wavered.
The phone buzzed a message from James: Sorry, was in a meeting. Hows Milo? When can we visit?
Dad texted? Poppy asked, and Emma nodded.
He asked how Milos doing, Emma replied, typing back, We can visit in half an hour. Want a video call?
Sure, came the reply. As soon as Im free.
Emma set the phone down and sighed.
Hes busy, huh? Poppy asked.
Hell call back when he can, Emma said. You know dad.
I do, Poppy said quietly. Remember our trip to the seaside when I was nine and Milo was three?
How could I forget? Emma smiled. You ate icecream every day and swam till you were bluelegged.
Dad was with us all week, Poppy continued. We went to the dolphin show, rode a boat, even hiked up the hills. Why cant that happen now?
I dont know, love, Emma answered honestly. Things have changed.
For the worse, Poppy sighed. Dads always busy now.
Emma wanted to argue that James loved them and tried his best, but Poppy was right. It really had gotten worse.
Later, after putting Milo to bed, Emma slipped off her shoes, dropped her bag on the nightstand, and padded into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water and stared out the window. The phone rang, making her jump. The screen read James.
Hello?
Hey, love. Hows Milo?
Hes fine, his temperatures a bit up but the doctor says its normal. Poppys staying with him.
Good that he has a caring sister, James said.
Yes, at least hes got someone.
A brief, awkward pause.
Emma, you know Id fly over if I could, but this deal
I get it, Emma cut in. You dont need to explain.
You do, James said firmly. You think I chose work over you, but thats not true.
Then explain, Emma asked. Tell me.
I I dont know how to put it. It just happened. Ive gotten used to working so much its become part of me. I dont know any other way.
What about the family?
Youre everything to me, he whispered. I lost my balance somewhere along the road, spent too much time on the job, too little with you lot. I realise that now, Emma, and I want to fix it.
How? she asked. What are you proposing?
I talked to senior management, he said. If I get the promotion, Ill be able to delegate more, free up more time. If not, Ill look at switching jobs or cutting my hours. Youre right, Ive missed too much.
Emma stayed quiet. Shed heard such promises too often to trust them outright.
I love you, James said, and I love the kids. I want us to be a real family, not just four people under one roof.
I want that too, Emma replied, but Im not sure if its possible.
Lets at least try, James suggested. Ill really try, I promise.
She glanced at a photo on the table: the four of them on a sunny beach, laughing, five years ago. It felt like another life.
Alright, she said finally. Lets give it a go.
Thanks, James exhaled with relief. Ill call Milo before bed and fly over right after I sign the contract.
Okay, Emma nodded, though James couldnt see her. Ill tell Milo.
She hung up and stayed at the kitchen table, staring at the picture. Would it work? Could James really change, or would things slip back to the old rhythm him at work, her with the kids, endless waiting for a better day?
She didnt know the answer, but for the first time in ages she heard genuine determination in his voice. Maybe that was enough to start.
Milo drew a picture of an airplane big, silver, with blue wings and black windows.
Look, thats dads plane, he said, showing it to Emma. Dad will fly back on it.
Beautiful, Emma smiled. Hows your throat?
A little sore, Milo admitted. The doctor said I can have icecream for recovery.
Icecream for healing, huh? Emma winked. Lets go get some, but dont tell dad Im spoiling you.
I wont, Milo promised. Will dad really come?
Of course he will, Emma assured. He promised.
You know, Milo mused, Im actually glad I had the operation. Now dad will be with us.
Emma ran her hand over his head, feeling a lump rise in her throat.She watched Milos eyes light up as the imagined plane lifted off, knowing that love, if tended with patience, could finally keep their family grounded together.
