The man walked through the front door, still in his coat, and immediately called out, We need to talk.
Without even taking off his shoes or hanging up his jacket, he continued, Emily! We need to have a serious chat Then, barely catching his breath, his eyes widened as he blurted, Ive fallen in love!
*Here we go,* Emily thought. *Midlife crisis hitting our family. Lovely.* But she said nothing, only studying his face intentlysomething she hadnt done in five or six (or was it eight?) years.
They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. For Emily, it was their shared history that played out in her mind. Theyd met in the most ordinary wayonline. She had lost three stone, and her future husband had somehow stretched himself three inches taller, so despite the odds, they matched each others criteria and found each other. She couldnt recall who messaged first, but she remembered his note wasnt crude and had a touch of self-deprecating humour, which she liked. At thirty-three and averagely attractive, she knew her chances on the marriage market werent stellar. If she wasnt at the back of the queue, she was certainly near it. So, for their first date, she vowed to keep her wits about her, wear rose-tinted glasses, put on her nicest underwear, and pack homemade biscuits and a book in her bagjust in case.
To her surprise, the date went smoothly (*image is everything!*), and their romance moved quickly. They enjoyed each others company, and after six months of steady meetingsplus relentless nudging from parents whod lost hope of ever seeing grandchildrenhe proposed. Introductions to both families followed, and with everyone in agreement, they booked the earliest available wedding date, terrified someone might change their mind.
Life, in Emilys opinion, was good. Their home had a tropical climateno scorching African passions, but warm, respectful, and steady. What more could she ask for? Her husband, a typical bloke, dropped the *sensitive-romantic-chap-with-a-heart-of-gold* act a few weeks after the wedding and settled into being exactly who he wasa straightforward, hardworking man in comfy joggers.
Emily, being the more complicated of the two, gradually let go of her *mysterious-sexy-housewife-intellectual* persona. She relaxedslowly at first, then faster once pregnancy sped things along. Within a year, she happily abandoned any lingering vanity, swapping tight dresses for a cosy dressing gown.
The fact that neither regretted shedding their pretence convinced Emily theyd made the right choice. Day-to-day life and raising two children kept them busy, but their marriage sailed steadily through storms, always righting itself when the waves calmed. Grandparents helped where they could, careers progressed (slowly but surely), and they still found time for holidays and hobbieswithin statistical limits, of course.
Twelve years in, her husband had never once strayednot even a harmless flirtation, though Emily wasnt the jealous type, and he couldve gotten away with it. The thought of him trying to charm someone made her smirk. Early on, hed realised traditional compliments werent his forte, so he adopted a different approach: wide-eyed, silent admiration, like an overgrown puppy.
Over the years, Emily learned to read every flicker in his eyeswild amazement, quiet approval, startled confusion, sheer panic. Now, imagining him batting his lashes at some *other woman*, she felt her throat tighten. With a nervous smile, she asked, So whats her name, then?
His eyes practically leapt to his forehead as he fumbled, trembling, H-how How did you know it was a *she*? No, waityou dont understand. I saw her, and I couldnt just walk past! Look at hershes perfect, soft, beautiful she reminds me of *you*!
From under his shirt, he produced a tiny grey hamster with pink ears, a twitching nose, and beady black eyes.
Emily stopped listening. She stared at her husband, then at his new love, then back at him. And she was *thrilled*because if he had to fall for another creature, at least it was one that looked just like her.
