**Diary Entry Nothing Left to Mend**
Its strange how life divides itself into distinct chapters. For James Whitmore, there was life before Emily, and then life after. But now, standing before the locked door of his own home, he realised there was a third phase: *after the after*. And it was hollow.
At thirty-seven, James was a respected specialist in the beauty industry, owned a house in Surrey, a flat in London, and hadnt worried about finances in years. None of it had saved his marriage.
Theyd met when he was twenty-two. Emma was just seventeen, fresh out of school, timidly dreaming of university. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and hed fallen for her instantly. But when, a year later, she told him she was pregnant, his first reaction was fear.
“Maybe not now?” hed asked carefully, avoiding her gaze. “Youve only just started studying.”
“Ill think about it,” shed murmured.
But there was no time left to thinkwhether from inexperience or something else, Emma had missed all the deadlines. Her parents came to meet the father of their grandchild, polite but distant, demanding nothing. Only as they left did her father mutter, “Dont worry, well manage.”
Guilt and a dormant sense of duty pushed James to propose. He married without joy or excitement, just a vague feeling he was doing the right thing.
The first years were a struggle. He was still finishing his studies, she was home with their daughter. Money was tight, and they relied on grandparents for help. Emma never complained. Before even graduating, she found part-time work.
“Why?” James had asked, baffled. “That barely covers mascara! Charlottes only two, already in nursery or with your mumshe hardly sees you!”
“Then earn more!” she snapped, steel in her voice for the first time. “Get a job at a private clinic!”
“With my experience? They wouldnt even hire me as a janitor!” he shot back.
Emma never asked for herself, but her reproaches grew: he didnt help at home, didnt spend time with Charlotte, didnt provide enough. A classic tale of a young family struggling in London.
After graduating, she landed a full-time job and shot up the career ladderlate nights, business trips, office parties. The house grew empty. James, meanwhile, spent more time with their daughter, telling himself, *Its just a phase. Shell slow down soon.* But she didnt. It was as if she avoided home on purpose.
One evening, wrapping his arms around her as she cooked, he whispered, “Lets have another. A son.”
Emma stilled, then gently pulled away. “Start earning properly first. Then well talk.”
That was when, in the midst of their icy marriage, Lily appearedyoung, cheerful, undemanding, an assistant from the neighbouring department. She adored him, laughed at his jokes, was warm and easy. She became his escape. He considered leaving, but the thought of Charlotte stopped him.
Years later, when James was finally earning well, something unbelievable happened. His wife brought up a second child herself.
“On one condition,” he said firmly, confident now in his money and position. “Family comes first. Work second. Ill provide.”
Emma agreed. She fell pregnant almost immediately and transformed. The house smelled of baking again; warmth returned. James was relieved, but it didnt stop him from sneaking off with Lily to Brighton, claiming business trips. Lily knew nothing of the pregnancyJames had told her he and Emma slept in separate rooms.
Then Lily started acting strange: too much perfume, unexplained tears, side-eyeing his phone.
“How are things at home?” she asked one day, feigning casualness.
“Same as always,” he dismissed.
Then came the visit. Emma turned up at his officethe first time in yearsto drop off forgotten documents. Lily saw her rounded belly. The moment Emma left, Lily exploded.
“You knew! You knew and said nothing!” Her screams probably echoed through three floors.
“Knew what? Calm down!”
“I messaged your wife! A month ago! I told her everything!”
James demanded proof. She refused, but he wrestled her phone away. The message was there, clear as day: *James and I love each other He deserves real warmth Dont stand in our way*
Emmas reply? Two words: *”Alright, Lily.”*
That was all.
Now he understood Lilys recent behaviourshed been waiting for a reaction, but James never knew. Because Emma had acted perfectly normal, living with a cheating husband for over a month without a word.
Stunned, James ended things with Lily on the spot, even suggesting she find another job. Her tears, her pleasnone of it mattered. The man she loved wouldnt abandon his family.
That evening, he confessed. Emma sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea.
“You knew?” he asked, heart pounding.
She looked up, puzzled. “About that girl? You were really with her? I thought it was a scam or a crush. Didnt think it was serious. If it is, youre free to go.”
She asked him to move out. He refused*”Were having a baby!”*swore it was over. He stayed in the spare room. Emma never pressed further but offered no reconciliation either, speaking only when necessary. She gave birth prematurely, complications included. James took leave, doted on his son, showered them with gifts. For a year and a half, he thought the nightmare was over.
Then Emma announced she was returning to work.
“We agreed!” he snapped. “Family first! Henrys still tinywait till hes three! We have the money!”
“Our agreement,” she said coolly, “was before Lily.”
James surrendered. A nanny was hired. Life became endless chaos, phone calls, petty fights, brief truces.
Then last year, he bumped into Lily. Memories flooded back; they got coffee. She was still alone, still sweet. Guilt and foolish pride made him offer her a joba friend needed an assistant. She accepted.
A week later, they were back where they started.
The end came six months later. At a birthday party, Jamess drunken friend raved about Lily: *”Brilliant girl, golden touch, easygoingdont know how I managed without her! Cheers, James, for the recommendation!”*
He had no idea about their affair. Emma smiled politely, said nothing. A week later, she handed James a stack of printoutsmessages, screenshots, photos.
“Move out,” she said simply. “If you dont, I will. With the children.”
He left. Within a week, he wanted back. He brings toys for the kids, enormous bouquets for Emma. She accepts the gifts for the children with chilly politeness; the flowers go in a vase by the door, like a forgotten umbrella.
Once, he caught her alone. The children were asleep.
“Just tell me what to do. Ill fix it. Theres no one but you. Lilys gone.”
Emma studied him blankly. “You still dont get it, do you? Lilys irrelevant. You broke us years ago, when you asked if I wanted an abortion. You married me out of guilt, tolerated me, while I kept trying to be enoughpretty enough, successful enough, perfect enough. But you only ever wanted someone easy, warm, and undemanding. Im tired of trying. Go.”
He stepped outside, and it hit him. Emma hadnt been simmering in resentment all these years. Shed simply stopped loving him long ago. Her silence after Lilys message wasnt forgiveness. It was a verdictquiet, finaland shed been waiting all this time for him to read it.
