For three Saturdays in a row, Emily vanished into the day under the pretence of work. What I discovered turned everything upside down.
Late again? James kept his voice steady, but it betrayed him with a tremble.
Emily froze, one hand clutching her handbag. She turned slowly, as though buying time.
Yes. The projects a nightmare. The boss is losing itwere all scrambling.
On a Saturday? For the third week?
James, dont be childish. Work is work.
She kissed his cheekquick, perfunctory, like a neighbour in a lift. The scent clinging to her wasnt her usual perfume. Something milky, childish. He frowned.
Em, can we talk?
Later. Everything later, alright?
The door slammed. James stood in the hallway, fists clenched. The third Saturday. The third bloody Saturday shed left at dawn and returned exhausted, silent, a stranger.
He couldnt take it anymore. Grabbing the car keys, he bolted.
Emily stepped out of the building, glancing around. James ducked low in his seatlucky hed parked behind a van. She hailed a taxi. He started the engine.
They drove for ages. Not towards the officehe knew that instantly. Somewhere on the outskirts of London, rows of tired terraced houses. His heart pounded. Hed see. Hed understand.
Emily stepped out near a peeling five-storey block. James parked further down, following on foot. She disappeared inside. He waited, counting floors. Third. Left window.
Half an hour passed. Then Emily reappearedbut not alone.
With a pram.
James nearly stumbled. A baby? They didnt have childrennot yet, not since these Saturdays began
The baby wailed. Emily rocked the pram, murmuring uncertainly. A younger woman darted outLily, Emilys flighty little sister. The same Lily whod been married twice by twenty-five and divorced just as fast.
Em, thanks! Ill be quicktwo hours max!
Lily, you said an hour!
Please, Em! I really need this!
Lily vanished, leaving Emily with the screaming infant. She pushed the pram helplessly back and forth.
James retreated behind a wall. So, not an affair. A nephew. But why the secrecy? Why lie?
He drove home, needing to beat her back, needing to think.
The flat felt like a cage. He paced. He could just ask. Emily, where were you? But shed liehe knew it. Just as hed lied.
Because he had a secret too.
Hannah. The receptionist from the adjacent department. Nothing seriousjust coffees after work, the odd film. She laughed at his jokes, listened to his rambles about coding, looked at him the way Emily used to. Before life became bills and takeout and scattered socks.
With Hannah, it was easy. She reminded him of the Emily hed married seven years agocarefree, bright, hanging on his every word.
The key turned in the lock. James snatched the remote, flicked on the telly.
Hey, Emily peered in. Youve been here all day?
Yeah. Couldnt be bothered to go out.
She moved to the kitchen. He heard water running, dishes clinking. He followed.
Emily stood at the sink, scrubbing a mug. Shoulders slumped, shadows under her eyes. A stain on her jeansbaby formula, maybe.
Em.
What?
Youre exhausted.
She turned, blinking.
Yeah. I am.
Dinner out? That Italian place from our anniversary?
James, Im wrecked. Lets just order pizza?
He nodded, watching her fumble for her phone. Her hands shook.
Em, whats going on?
What?
Youve been different. For weeks.
She stilled. The phone slipped, clattering onto the table.
Just work, James. Too much work.
On Saturdays?
Yes! On Saturdays! Why the interrogation?
Her voice cracked. She was close to tears. He pulled her into a hug. She stiffened, then melted, face buried in his shoulder.
Sorry. Im just so tired.
She smelled of talcum powder and something sourspit-up, probably. He rubbed her back, felt her heartbeat racing.
Em, if somethings wrong, tell me. Im not a stranger.
She pulled away, wiping her eyes.
Its fine. Really. Just a rough patch. Itll pass.
The pizza arrived. They ate in silence. Emily showered; James stared at his congealing slice.
He could say it. Em, I saw you with a pram. Lilys kid? But then hed admit to following her. And shed ask, Where were you on Fridays?
What would he say? That he sat in cafés with another woman? That he told her things he no longer told his wife? That sometimes he wondered: what if?
His phone buzzed. A text from Hannah: Still on for Monday? Want to show you that film.
James deleted it. No. Not anymore. Enough.
Emily emerged in a towel robe, hair damp, face flushed. She sat beside him.
James, lets stay in tomorrow. Just us.
What about work?
Sod work.
He smiled. When had she last said that?
Alright. Just us.
She took his hand. Her fingers were cold despite the shower.
We lost something, didnt we?
What?
Us. We lost us.
He squeezed her hand.
Well find it.
Morning came late. Emily made pancakesfirst time in a year. James brewed coffee, sliced fruit. They ate on the balcony, shivering slightly.
Remember breakfast in Paris? Emily said. That tiny terrace?
Where you nearly dropped a cup on that blokes head?
I did not nearly drop itI set it down badly!
They laughed. How long had it been?
The day unfolded strangely, like playing newlyweds. They binged a series tangled on the sofa, cooked togetherJames chopping, Emily stirring. No talk of work or bills. Just the moment.
That night, Emily dozed against his shoulder. James studied her facesmooth, untroubled. The furrow between her brows had vanished. She looked like the girl whod spilled coffee on him seven years ago. Sorry! Let me pay for dry-cleaning! Oror Ill buy you another coffee?
Hed bought hers instead. Then another. Then dinner. Then a ring.
Emily twitched in her sleep, murmuring. He tucked a blanket around her.
On Monday, he found Hannah.
Hey! Thought youd forgotten about the film
Hannah, we need to talk.
Her face fell. Smart girlshe knew.
Your wife?
Yes. No. I meanI cant do this.
James, nothing even happened.
Exactly. And it wont. Im sorry.
She nodded, turning to her screen.
Go. Just go.
He left. His chest ached and lightened at once. The right choice. Long overdue.
Emily wasnt home. A note on the fridge: Back by seven. Dinner in the oven.
He reheated the meal, set the table. Emily arrived on time but jittery.
James, I need to tell you something.
He tensed. Here it comes.
Lily has a son. Four months old. The father bolted. Shes alone, no job, no money. Ive been helpingwatching him while she interviews. Or just so she can breathe. Im sorry I lied. I thought youd hate it.
Why would I?
We want kids. And Im looking after someone elses. And Ive lent her moneymy wages, she added hastily.
James stood, pulling her close.
You daft thing. Of course you help her. Shes your sister.
Emily sobbed into his shirt.
Im so tired of lying. Inventing excuses.
No more lies.
He thought of Hannah. His own deceit. But it wasnt the same. Just chats. Just
James? Any secrets of yours?
His heart stuttered.
No. Wellsometimes I wasnt at work. Went to the pub with colleagues. Just drinks, banter. Home felt bleak.
Not the whole truth. But not a lie. Hannah had been there. Sometimes.
Bleak, Emily echoed. Yeah. I get that.
They stood entwined in the kitchen. Then ate, talking about the nephewOliver, apparently. Lilys new job at a shop. Maybe visiting properly soon.
Hey, James said suddenly. Lets have one of our own.
Emily looked up.
Ser
