**Diary Entry October 12th**
I never thought Id be writing this, but here I am, sitting in my car with trembling hands, trying to make sense of everything thats happened today. It started with something so triviala missing blue scarf, the one with the fringe that Steven brought back from Italy. I tore the wardrobe apart, tossing clothes onto the bed, frantic to find it before Natashas anniversary party.
“Check the hallway, maybe its there,” Lucy murmured, barely looking up from her phone.
“Ive looked everywhere,” I snapped, slamming the wardrobe shut. “Its vanished into thin air.”
She finally glanced up, studying me with an odd intensity. Even dishevelled in an old t-shirt and jeans, I mustve looked a messchestnut waves tangled, green eyes flashing with frustration.
“Maybe you left it at Emmas last Friday? You went to the theatre together.”
“Oh! Youre right!” I brightened, rummaging for my phone. “Ill call her now.”
While I searched, Lucy drifted to the window. Our flat overlooks a quiet courtyard where the caretaker was sweeping fallen leaves. Autumn had settled in, painting London in gold and crimson.
“Emmas not answering,” I frowned, joining her. “Thats oddwe agreed to meet before Natashas do.”
“Probably out shopping,” Lucy shrugged, eyes glued to her phone as a new message flashed. “You know Emmaalways dashing about last minute.”
I laughed. “Remember how she nearly missed my wedding? Steven thought his best man would have to stand in alone.”
At the mention of my husband, Lucy stiffenedjust slightlybut I didnt notice, lost in the memory.
“Speaking of wheres Steven? Havent heard him about,” she asked casually.
“Fishing with his mates,” I waved a hand. “Second weekend in a row. Says the bites perfect this time of year.”
“Does he go often?” Her tone was carefully neutral.
“Lately, yes,” I sighed. “Work, fishing, corporate events you know how it isautumns always mad for financiers.”
Lucy nodded and buried herself in her phone again. The screen lit up: *”Changed your mind? Last chance to stop this.”*
Her fingers flew: *”No. Proceed as planned.”*
“Whos that?” I peered over her shoulder. “Youve been off all day.”
She flinched, locking the screen. “Just work. Cant even leave me alone on a Saturday.” Her smile was tight. “Maybe the scarfs in the car?”
“The car?” I paused. “Oh! I was wearing it when Steven dropped us after the theatre. Probably still there.”
Grabbing my keys, I headed for the door.
“Ill come with you,” Lucy said suddenly. “Need some air.”
Outside, the air was crisp with the scent of damp leaves. I unlocked our Vauxhall and rummaged through the back seat.
“Strange,” I muttered. “I couldve sworn it was here.”
Lucy watched me, biting her lip. Her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it.
“Claire,” she said finally, voice strange. “Dont you think Stevens been different lately?”
“How so?” I shut the car door, turning to her.
“All these trips, the fishing” She met my eyes. “Havent you noticed anything off?”
I stiffened. “What are you getting at, Lucy? If you know something, say it.”
She took a deep breath. “I think no, I *know* Stevens cheating on you.”
The world tilted. Then I laughedsharp, disbelieving. “*Steven?* With who? Weve been married ten years, weve two kids. He doesnt even *look* at other women.”
“Are you sure?” she whispered.
Something in her voice made my chest tighten. “Lucy, what do you know? *Tell me.*”
She looked away. “Last Friday, after the theatreSteven didnt go straight home. I saw his car outside Emmas. Late. Very late.”
My stomach dropped. “Youre mistaken. He just dropped her off. She rang me after, thanked me for the evening.”
“Claire,” Lucy gripped my shoulder. “His car was there until *morning*. I saw him leave her building. At eight. In the same clothes.”
I shoved her hand away. “I dont believe you. Why would you lie? Steven said he stayed at his parentshe wouldnt”
“Call him,” she cut in. “Right now. Ask where he is.”
Hands shaking, I dialled. Voicemail.
“No answer,” I stared at the screen. “Probably no signal by the lake.”
“Or hes busy,” she said pointedly. “With Emma.”
“*Stop it!*” My voice cracked. “Emmas my *best friend*shed never”
Then I remembered: Emma hadnt answered either.
Lucy pulled me into a hug. “Come to mine. You shouldnt be alone.”
But I shook my head. “No. I need to see Emma. *Now.*”
At Emmas doorstep, my heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst. Stevens Vauxhall was parked outsidejust like Lucy said.
Inside, Emma paled when she saw me. “Claire? What?”
“Stevens cars here,” I said coldly. “Where is he?”
Her face crumpled. Then, from the bathroom, Steven emergedtowel in hand, freezing when he saw me.
“Claire”
“How was the *fishing*?” I spat.
The rest was a blur: admissions, denials, tears. Two months, they said. An accident. They *loved* each other.
I called Lucy, numb. “You were right.”
Now, sitting in Lucys flat, tea going cold, I listened as she spun another taleabout Emmas scheming, her obsession with stealing my life.
But then Steven rang.
“Get out of there,” he urged. “Lucys not who you think.”
And as she grabbed my arm, desperation in her eyes, I finally saw the truthnot in Emmas tears, not in Stevens pleas, but in Lucys whispered confession:
“Ive loved you since uni. But you chose *him*”
The scarf didnt matter anymore. None of it did.
I walked out, the autumn leaves swirling around me, the masks finally fallen.
