25April2025
I slipped into Jamess study without knocking and the cold of the phone conversation Id just overheard made my skin tingle.
Its about time we changed the curtains, I said, glancing at the livingroom window. These have faded completely.
James set his newspaper aside and looked at the glass.
They look fine to me. Why bother? he replied.
James, theyve been up for eight years! I sighed. They really need new ones.
Alright, buy them if you want, he muttered, turning back to the paper.
I drifted into the kitchen to start dinner. Another ordinary evening, the usual small talk. After twentytwo years of marriage weve discussed everything under the sun, and now our conversations revolve around the mundane.
I chopped vegetables for a salad, set a pot of potatoes to boil, and fetched the meat from the fridge. The motions are automatic, honed by years of habit. Sometimes I catch myself living on autopilotwork, house, cooking, cleaning, and the cycle repeats.
Emily, want a cuppa? James called from the lounge.
Later! I shouted back.
James is the chief engineer at a large manufacturing plant on the outskirts of town. Lately hes been staying late, coming home exhausted. I chalk it up to the new project his department is launching.
His phone rang. He rose quickly, closed the door behind him and disappeared into the study. I heard his voice, muffled, but couldnt make out the words.
It was the first time hed ever taken a call in private. Usually hed speak on the phone with me in the kitchen. This was the third such incident in a week.
A knot formed in my stomach. Something was off. I tried to push the unsettling thoughts away, but they kept crawling back. What if? I thought, then dismissed it. James isnt the type to cheat. Weve been together so long; I cant imagine him doing that.
Still, the doubt gnawed. I remembered the lipstick stain Id seen on his shirt the previous week. Hed blamed it on a colleague, Sophie, whod brushed against him at a company party while hugging everyone. I wanted to believe him.
His behaviour had changed too: more time spent checking his reflection, a new aftershave, sharper clothing. He said the factory had tightened the dress code and he needed to look presentable.
I shook my head. Im just overthinking, I told myself. Its just fatigue, paranoia. James is an honest, loving husband. We have a stable life; why would he want anything else?
Dinner was ready. I set the table and called James in. He emerged from the study, looking thoughtful.
Everything okay? I asked.
Fine, he said, sitting down. Just work stuff.
We ate in silence. I stole glances at him; his mind seemed elsewhere, as if he were miles away. He used to share his work stories with me, now he was quiet.
Hows the project progressing? I ventured.
Fine, he replied briefly. Emily, may I go to bed early? Im knackered.
Of course, I said, trying not to show my disappointment.
He retreated to the bedroom, leaving me to clear the table. As I washed the dishes I kept wondering why he was suddenly so closed off. We used to be close, trusting each other completely. Now an invisible wall seemed to have risen between us.
Maybe I should confront him directly, ask if everythings alright. But I feared sounding paranoid, hurting James with my suspicions.
The next day I got home early from work. Normally Id stay until six, but my manager let us leave an hour early because the power had been cut for maintenance. The lights were still on, so I assumed James had already returned. I slipped into the lounge, but he wasnt there. The kitchen was empty too. From the study I could hear a faint voice.
I hesitated to knock; the study has always been an open door. I pushed it open and stepped inside.
James was by the window, phone pressed to his ear. He turned at the sound of my footsteps, his face twisted with alarm.
Yes, later, he said briskly into the handset before ending the call.
I had caught a few fragments: you know how important this is to me I cant keep doing this she must not find out The last line hit me like a cold splash.
She must not find out, I whispered, feeling the air freeze around me. Who was she? What was she supposed to stay ignorant of?
Emily, James managed a nervous smile, youre early.
I was let off early, I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. Who were you talking to?
Just a colleague, workrelated, he said quickly.
Work? I heard you say she must not find out. Who is she? I stepped further into the study.
James went pale. He opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again.
Its complicated, he stammered.
Try me, I said, my voice cold. I have all the time.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking anguished. I didnt want you to hear that.
My heart thumped. Something was definitely happening.
What? Whos the other person? I asked, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
What? he snapped, bewildered. Theres no other person!
Dont lie to me! tears welled up. Youve been staying late, hiding phone calls, that lipstick on your shirt and now this! She must not find out!
James fell silent, his eyes wide with helplessness. The silence screamed louder than any accusation.
My God, I whispered. Is it true? Do you have someone else?
No! he shouted, stepping toward me. Youve misunderstood!
Then explain! I pleaded. Tell me what Im supposed to have heard! Who was she?
He sank onto a chair, covering his face with his hands.
Its not what you think. I swear theres no affair, he whispered. I just cant tell you yet.
How can you not tell me? Im your wife! I deserve to know!
I know, he said, standing. Just give me a little more time. By the end of the week Ill explain everything. Please, just wait.
How long? A day? A week? A month? I asked, wiping my cheeks.
Until Saturday, he replied firmly. I promise Ill tell you everything then. Not now, please.
I stared at him, a part of me wanting to scream, another part seeing how distressed he was. Whatever was happening, it was clearly weighing on him.
Okay, I said wearily. Until Saturday. But if youre lying I wont forgive you.
Theres no other woman, he said, taking my hands. Emily, I love you. Only you. Trust me.
I looked into his eyes and, despite the confusion, I believed him. Yet the question lingeredwhat exactly was he hiding?
The days that followed felt like torture. I tried to act normal, but my mind kept circling back to the conversation. Sleep eluded me; I replayed every possible scenariodebts, illness, a job loss, something far worse.
My friend Claire noticed my gloom and asked what was wrong. I confessed everything.
Honestly, Id check his phone, Claire said, shaking her head. You have a right to know the truth.
It feels cheap, I replied. I dont want to betray his privacy.
Lying to your spouse is cheap, Claire retorted. You deserve the truth.
I couldnt bring myself to snoop; Id always respected Jamess personal space. Yet the suspicion kept gnawing.
That Thursday evening James spent a long time on the phone in the study again. I stood at the door, trying to eavesdrop, ashamed of myself. All I could hear were fragments: think shell be happy we need to organise everything properly yes, Saturday
Happy? Happy about what? It didnt sound like a lovers rendezvous or a medical crisis. Something else.
Friday morning James left for work unusually early, citing an important meeting. I took the day off, unable to concentrate at the office.
My phone rang. An unknown number.
Hello?
Is this Emily Thompson? a womans voice asked.
Yes.
My name is Rachel. Im acquainted with your husband. I need to meet you. Its urgent.
My heart jumped. Finally, a name.
Alright. Where and when? I asked, voice shaking.
In an hour, at the Rose & Crown Café on Baker Street. Ill be in a blue coat.
I arrived early, sat by the window, and fidgeted with a napkin. A woman in a blue coat enteredtall, elegant, about forty, with a calm smile.
Emily Thompson? she asked.
Yes, I stood. Please, have a seat.
She sat opposite me, her demeanor reassuring.
Thank you for coming, Rachel said. I know this is difficult for you. James told me you overheard a conversation and misinterpreted it.
What did he say? I asked, fists clenched.
You heard she must not find out, Rachel began, pulling a folder from her bag. James was terrified youd discover his surprise before the right moment. Hes been working on something for you.
She opened the folder, revealing plans, photographs, and a letter.
Im the director of a charity that rescues stray animals, Rachel explained. Three months ago James approached us with an idea to set up a sanctuary.
My eyes widened. A sanctuary?
Yes, Rachel continued. He bought a plot on the edge of town, hired builders, and poured his savings into it. The construction is almost finished.
A sanctuary for dogs and cats? I asked, bewildered.
Yes. He wanted to create a home for abandoned pets and name it after youThe Emily Thompson Animal Sanctuary. He kept it secret because he wanted it to be a birthday surprise.
I stared at the glossy photographs of spacious enclosures, a modern veterinary clinic, and happy dogs. It all clickedthe late nights, the phone calls, the new aftershave.
Why didnt he tell me? I whispered.
Because he feared youd think he was hiding something, or that the money was wasted, Rachel said gently. He sold his parents cottage, took a loaneverything for this project, for you.
Tears spilled down my cheeksrelief, embarrassment, joy. I had imagined infidelity, but it was a secret gift.
Im a fool, I sobbed. I thought he was
He never intended any betrayal, Rachel replied, squeezing my hand. He just wanted to give you something youve always wantedhelping animals. The ceremony is this Saturday, on your birthday.
Its my birthday? I gasped. I turn fiftyfive.
Rachel showed a photo of a nearly completed sanctuary, complete with a sign reading Emily Thompson Animal Sanctuary.
How could he keep this from me? I asked, still shaking.
He wanted it to be a surprise, Rachel said. He thought youd be overwhelmed if you found out early. Hes been nervous, which is why you heard those fragmented sentences.
I felt both foolish and grateful. The weight of suspicion lifted, replaced by admiration for Jamess devotion.
I left the café with a mix of shame and happiness, clutching the folder. At home I entered the studystill forbidden, now invitingand found a stack of documents: land purchase agreements, budgets, architectural drawings, and a handwritten letter.
My dearest Emily,
If youre reading this, something went awry and youve discovered the sanctuary before its unveiling. Im sorry for the secrecy, the halftruths, and the worry I caused. I wanted to bring your lifelong dream to lifea safe haven for stray animalsjust for you, in honour of our twentytwo years together and your birthday. I love you more than words can say.
Forever yours,
James
I read the letter through tears, feeling foolish for doubting him.
The front door slammed open a moment later; James stepped in, eyes widening at the sight of me holding his letter.
Emily you read it, he said, stunned.
Yes, I replied, moving toward him. I met Rachel. She told me everything.
He dropped his head in shame. Im sorry. The surprise didnt work out.
It did, I said, hugging him tightly. Its the best surprise everjust a bit early.
He laughed weakly. I should have told you when you overheard that line. I was scared of ruining the moment.
I know, I whispered. I was a fool, but now I understand.
We spent the evening drinking tea in the kitchen, James animatedly describing the sanctuarys details: the size of the pens, the ventilation systems, the veterinary equipment, the countless hours hed spent poring over manuals. I listened, delighted to see his passion reignited.
How much did you spend? I asked, halfjoking.
Every penny, he said, taking my hand. It will save hundreds of animals. Its worth every pound.
Will you let me help? I asked. You always wanted a dog, but the flat is cramped.
Yes, he smiled. Well have a whole shelter. Youll be the director, if you wish. Or a volunteerwhatever you like.
Saturday arrived, my birthday. James drove us to the sanctuary. Rachel met us at the gate with a bouquet of wildflowers.
Happy birthday, Emily! she exclaimed, kissing my cheek. Welcome to your sanctuary.
I walked through the gates and saw a large wooden sign: Emily Thompson Animal Sanctuary. Inside were bright, airy enclosures, happy dogs barking, cats lounging in sunlit corners, a stateoftheart clinic, and a cosy volunteer kitchen.
Its all mine? I whispered, astonished.
Its yours, James said, eyes shining. Now youre the head of it.
I approached a large ambercoloured Labrador named Brindle, his tail thumping against the fence. Rachel introduced him as a rescued dog, still healing from past injuries.
May I take him home? I asked, heart swelling.
Of course, James replied. Hell need a companion, thoughsee that black terrier over there? Theyre inseparable.
Both dogs looked at me with hopeful eyes. I adopted them both, promising to give them a loving home.
Driving back with the two new family members, I reflected on the whirlwind of suspicion, fear, and ultimately, love. Mistrust had nearly ruined months of happiness, but honesty restored everything. James proved his devotion, not through grand gestures alone, but by fulfilling a dream Id never dared voice.
The next morning I called Claire, breathless with excitement.
Youll never guess what happened! I shouted. James built an entire animal sanctuary for me. Hes a legend!
She sounds brilliant, Claire replied, laughing. Do you need a hand at the shelter? Id love to volunteer.
Ill need all the help I can get, I said, feeling a warm glow.
The sanctuary soon became the centre of my life. I feed the animals, clean pens, walk the dogs, and James often joins me after work, despite his demanding job at the plant. Together we rescue stray cats, find homes for dogs, and fund veterinary care. Each successful adoption fills me with purpose.
One evening, as we sat on the sofa with Brindle and his black companion curled at our feet, I turned to James.
When I heard that conversation, I thought my world was falling apart, I admitted. Now I see it was a test of our trust, of our love.
And we passed it, he said, kissing my forehead. Were stronger for it.
Outside, snow began to fall, muffling the citys usual clamor. Inside, the house was warm, filled with the soft breathing of our two dogs. I rested my head on Jamess shoulder and thought, at last, I am truly happy. Not because of money or career, but because of trust, love, and a shared purpose that gives meaning to every day.
Emily.
