“Alright, love, Ive got to dashthe lads are waiting for me! No time to spare! Catch you later!”
With those words, more than just their evening plans crumbled. Emily felt her heart sink. Yesterday, shed slaved over the stove, and today shed rushed home after a gruelling day, only for this? A hurried meal and a guilt-ridden peck on the cheek?
“What do you mean, dash? Tom, todays my day!” Emily reminded her husband.
Tom, already lacing up his trainers, straightened and stared at her, baffled. He genuinely seemed not to grasp the problem.
“Weve already had our time,” he nodded at their plates. “Ate, had some wine. Gave you that fancy hair straightener you wanted. Its only Tuesday. Well do it properly on Saturday when the mates come over.”
“But I wanted it to be just us! Tonight, now!” Emily protested, the shadow of loneliness creeping over her.
Tom sighed and spread his hands.
“Love, come on. Im not off gallivantingits just the lads. Weve got a game lined up.”
His words stung. They were waiting but hadnt she been waiting too? Emily had hoped for one evening a year where it was just the two of them, without his “mates.” But apparently, even that was too much to ask.
“Fine, sod off then, Tom,” Emily snapped, turning away. “But rememberthis mattered to me. A lot. Were like flatmates, not a couple.”
He shrugged, carefree as if they were debating what film to watch. But this wasnt about her birthday. It was a cry from the heart. Lately, with Tom, shed never felt more alone.
…It had started long ago. If she was honest, Emily had got exactly what shed signed up for. Shed chosen Tom because he was fun and easygoing. But what worked for dating didnt always work for marriage.
When they first met, hed whisked her off to gatherings and gaming nightsnot the rowdy pub sort, but board game clubs. No drunken antics, just polite banter among friends.
Emily had grown up in a home where her father drank heavily and her mother complained endlessly. With Tom, shed felt safe, as if the world could be calm. Shed missed out on childhood, and with him, shed tried to reclaim it.
When Tom proposed, Emily was over the moon. He seemed reliablecheerful, easygoing, sharp. Financially secure too, thanks to an inheritance that let him work part-time from home.
The first weeks of marriage were a dream. Tom gave her a proper honeymoontrips across the UK, seaside walks, late-night chats. Shed felt like a princess.
But returning home, the carriage turned back into a pumpkin. That very evening, Tom vanished, leaving her to unpack and cook.
“The ladsll think Ive gone missing,” hed said. “Just popping round to show them the photos.”
Back then, shed barely minded. Almost. Shed thought: strong friendships are good. But it kept happening. And each time, Emily was left alone with the illusion of a marriage.
Memories of recent months flooded in.
Emily returned daily, drained. Nine-hour shifts, traffic, the endless rush to keep up. She had no energy for socialising. Shed open the door to find Tom in his gaming chair, headphones on, laughing loudly. A dirty plate and empty soda cans beside him.
“Tom, take the bins out, please,” shed murmur, clearing the table.
“Righto, sweetheart! Just finishing this round with the boys, then Ill sort it,” hed promise.
“Just finishing” stretched into hours until shed haul the bags out herself. Because she needed to cook. Because the smell bothered her.
It was the same with everything.
Tom stayed up till dawn, asleep when Emily rose. Sometimes shed wake to his voice, arguing passionately over voice chat.
They lived side by side, not together. Like siblings in separate worlds that barely touched.
Shed tried explaining, but Tom didnt get it.
“What more dyou want? Weve got everything. Im home most days. I cant be glued to you,” hed say.
She just wanted basic attention. Shared evenings.
Eventually, Emily confided in friends. Sarah, the eternal optimist, urged patience:
“Be glad he brings in money and doesnt stray. My blokes off on construction jobsI see him once a month. Youve got it made.”
Liz, blunt as ever, disagreed:
“Ive been there. Youre lonely even with him. Just a cook and cleaner. Hes not done playingwhat does he want with a family? Have a kid, and youll never see him.”
The words lingered. Emily wavered. Maybe Sarah was rightTom was decent, sober, employed. Should she endure it?
But now, sitting alone on her birthday with salads and wine, Emily knew: she didnt want to be Sarah. Didnt want to settle for scraps. Didnt want a relationship where she dreaded his presence.
The roasted vegetables and meat cooled on the table. Bowls of untouched sides. Shed shopped, cooked, left work earlyhoping for one small celebration.
And Tom, as always, had shrugged on his jacket and left. Left her with wine, tears, and the realisation: this would be her life. Always waiting for him to grow up. Always second. Holidays, children, old ageall passing him by.
She couldnt bear it. Not today. She called a cab to her mums. Margaret had lived alone for years. She hugged Emily, saw her red-rimmed eyes.
“Never mind,” her mum said after hearing it all. “Well celebrate. Order sushiwhatever you fancy.”
That evening, Emily remembered what family felt like. Flawed, but there. They talked at the kitchen tableEmily haltingly, Margaret listening. Tom hadnt listened in ages.
So when he rang late that night, Emily ignored him. She answered in the morning.
“Where were you all night?”
“At Mums. Celebrating with people who care.”
“Em dont be daft. Come home. I didnt do anything wrong.”
“Exactly. You did nothing. Youre absent.”
“Come off it! We had time yesterday. Wasnt it nice?”
“Oh yes. Five whole minutes before you ran off.”
“Bloody hell, Em, Im not cheating! Dont make a mountain out of a molehill.”
“You know what? Id almost prefer it if you were. At least then Id know what Im fighting. But this Your real familys your mates. Im just temporary.”
Silence. Tom had no answer. Or didnt want to give one.
“Tom,” Emily said, “I didnt want this, but Choose. Them or me.”
“Ultimatums now?” he scowled. “Em, you know I love you. But you dont ditch your mates”
Emily sighed. Suddenly, it was clear.
“Then live with them.”
She hung up and went to breakfast. Margaret had made her favourite pancakes. Emily cried at first, then felt lighter, as if a weight had lifted. Painful, yesbut now she could move on.
She returned only for her things. Tom barely glanced up from his screen, pausing just to mute his mic.
He stayed in his worldwhere games and mates came first. Emily stepped into hers. A world where she wanted real connection, not fantasies or forever feeling second-best. Tom had chosen perpetual boyhood, and their paths no longer crossed.
Sometimes, love means knowing when to walk awayeven when it hurts. Because staying in half a relationship only starves the soul.
