“He married you, but he loves me,” said her friend, avoiding eye contact.
“Emily, would you like some coffee?” asked Charlotte, flicking on the kettle and pulling two mugs from the cupboard.
“Please. Make it strongmy heads splitting,” Emily rubbed her temples and sank onto a kitchen chair, exhausted.
Charlotte measured the coffee silently before turning back to her friend. Theyd known each other for over a decade, since university, and Charlotte could always read Emily in an instant. Now, she looked draineddark circles under her eyes, her hair hastily tied back.
“Late night again?” Charlotte asked carefully.
Emily nodded, tracing the pattern on the plastic tablecloth.
“Stayed till half one finishing reports. The numbers wouldnt add up. Came home, and Daniel was already asleep. Left for work before I woke. Its been like this all week.”
Charlotte set a steaming mug in front of her and sat opposite. Something flickered in her expression, but Emily didnt notice.
“How are things between you two, really? Since the wedding?” Charlotte stirred sugar into her coffee.
“Fine, I suppose,” Emily shrugged. “Adjusting, you know. First years always the hardest. Mum says its just settling in.”
“Settling in,” Charlotte repeated, bitterness creeping into her voice.
Emily finally looked up, studying her friend.
“Charlotte, whats wrong? Youre not yourself today.”
“Im fine,” Charlotte waved a hand. “Just tired. Works mad, and weve started redecorating. Its all a bit much.”
But Emily wasnt convinced. They knew each other too well. Charlotte had the same look shed had years ago when confessing a crush on their philosophy lecturerthat same tension in her voice.
“Tell me whats going on. Were friends,” Emily pressed.
Charlotte stood, walked to the window, and stared into the garden before turning abruptly.
“Emily, I need to tell you something. I just dont know how youll take it.”
“Go on.”
“Its about Daniel.”
“Daniel?” Emily set her mug down slowly. “What about him?”
Charlotte stepped closer but kept her eyes lowered.
“Weve been seeing each other. For six months.”
Emily froze. The words didnt register at first.
“What do you mean, *seeing* each other?”
“After work. Weekends when you visit your parents. Emily, Im sorryI never meant for this to happen. It just did.”
“*Just happened?*” Emilys voice dropped, hardened. “An affair *just happened*?”
“Dont call it that. We just understand each other. We talk, go for walks, the theatre”
“The theatre,” Emily echoed. “Do you sleep together *just for understanding* too?”
Charlotte flushed but said nothing. That was answer enough.
Emily stood, legs trembling, but pride kept her upright.
“How long?” she asked, surprised by her own calm.
“Six months. Started before your wedding. We tried to stop, but after he called me.”
“*After* the wedding, he called you,” Emily said slowly. “So on our honeymoon, he was thinking of you?”
Charlottes head dropped further.
“I know it hurts. But he married you, and he loves me. I love him too. We never wanted to hurt you, but”
“He married me but loves you,” Emily repeated, the words a death sentence.
The kitchen fell silent, just the ticking clock and hum of the fridge. Emily stood motionless; Charlotte still wouldnt meet her gaze.
“Why tell me now? You couldve kept lying.”
“I couldnt. Daniel wanted to tell you, but I thought it should come from me. Were friends”
“Friends,” Emily laughed bitterly. “Ten years of friendship, and this is where it ends.”
“Emily, love isnt a choice. It just happens. We didnt plan”
“*Didnt plan* to stand at my wedding, *didnt plan* to ask about my marriage, *didnt plan* to advise me to be patient with him?”
“I wanted it to work for you, I did. But I cant help how I feel. I love him.”
“Does he love you?”
Charlotte looked up, and Emily saw the truth in her eyes before she whispered, “Yes. He says he realized too latewhen it couldnt be undone.”
“Couldnt? A wedding isnt a prison. He couldve said no.”
“He didnt want to upset you. Thought hed grow to love you. Everyone said you were perfect together.”
“Perfect,” Emily sank back into the chair, legs giving way. “So he married me out of pity?”
“Not pity. Respect. He cares about you”
“But doesnt love me.”
“No. Im sorry.”
Emily covered her face. Six months of marriage, and all along, her husband had been with her best friend. The late nights, the distanceit all made sense now.
“Where did you meet?” she asked, voice muffled.
“My flat. Sometimes a café across town.”
“Here? In this kitchen?”
Silence.
Emily grabbed her bag.
“Where are you going?” Charlotte panicked.
“Home. To talk to my husband.”
“Waitlets talk this through. Theres a way”
“What way? A ménage à trois? Or should I hand him over and play the understanding friend?”
“I dont know. I just dont want to lose you.”
“You lost me the moment you slept with him.”
“Emily!”
But Emily was already gone.
On the bus home, she stared blankly out the window. The words looped in her mind: *He married you, but he loves me.*
The flat was silent. Daniel wouldnt be home for hours. Emily sat on their bed, replaying the signshis distraction, the lack of intimacy. Shed blamed stress, adjustment.
Now she remembered Charlottes questions about their plans, Daniels unexplained calls.
Keys turned in the lock. Daniel was early.
“Em, you home?” he called.
“Here.”
He kissed her cheek, like always. An ordinary man, now a stranger.
“How was work?” he asked, loosening his tie.
“Fine. Yours?”
“Same old. Exhausted.”
Over dinner, he chatted about projects, weekend plans. Emily listened, detached.
“Daniel,” she interrupted.
“Hm?”
“Charlotte told me something today.”
He froze, then set down his fork.
“What?”
“That youre seeing each other.”
He exhaled, eyes closing. “She told you herself?”
“Just now. In the same kitchen where you two probably had dinner.”
“Em…”
“Is it true?”
“Yes. I was going to tell you”
“Six months. Our entire marriage.”
“Before the wedding too. We tried to stop, but”
“But love was too strong,” she finished flatly.
Daniel stood by the window. “I never meant for this. But I love her.”
“And me?”
A pause. Then: “I dont. I thought I would. Youre kind, stable”
“Like a savings account.”
“Thats not fair. I didnt mean to hurt you.”
“Six months of lies *didnt hurt*?”
He turned, shame in his eyes. “It did. Lying every dayits been hell.”
“*Hell*,” she echoed. “What now?”
“I dont know. Divorce, I suppose.”
“And marry Charlotte?”
“If shell have me.”
“She will.”
Emily cleared the table, hands shaking.
“Em,” he said softly.
“What?”
“Im sorry.”
“You couldve said no. Couldve told the truth.”
“I was scared to hurt you.”
“And hurt me worse.”
That night, they slept on opposite sides of the bed. By morning, Daniel left without a word. Emily called in sick, pacing the flat, oddly relievedno more pretending.
Charlotte called at noon.
“Emily, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Everything. I need to explain.”
“You did.”
“Not properly. Pleasemeet me.”
Emily almost hung up. “Say it now.”
Charlotte rushed, “I never meant to fall for him. We just talked at your birthdayyou ran out for cake, and he confessed doubts about marrying you. I I liked him. A lot.”
“And?”
“We met up. Just talking at first. He said he couldnt be honest with you, but he could with me. I fell in love.”
“And stole your best friends fiancé.”
“I *tried* to stop him marrying you! He said he couldnt let you down.”
“How noble.”
“I know its awful. But what was I supposed to do?”
“Walk away.”
“I *did*. After the wedding, I ignored him for months. *He* came back.”
“And you caved.”
“Yes. Because I was miserable too.”
Emily felt nothing. “You got what you wanted. Why ask for forgiveness?”
“Because I care about you.”
“You lost me when you slept with him.”
“Emily”
“Dont call again.”
That evening, she met Daniel with a suitcase.
“Your things. Ill file for divorce tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Where will I stay?”
“Charlottes, I assume.”
“Em if you need help with paperwork”
“Ill manage.”
He paused at the door. “Im sorry.”
“Already forgiven,” she said, shutting it behind him.
Then she criedproperly, for the first time. And when the tears dried, she felt free.
The divorce was quick, amicable. Daniel didnt fight for the flat her parents had given her; she didnt ask for alimony.
A month later, she heard Daniel and Charlotte were living together. It didnt hurt. Just nothing.
Then, one Sunday in the park, a man with a dog helped her pick up dropped groceries. They talked, found common ground. And the way he looked at herDaniel never had.
“Fancy a coffee?” he asked.
“Maybe,” Emily smiled, thinking: *Lifes just beginning.*
