**Playing with Fire**
Blimey, Tom said, tossing his head back with a laugh that nearly choked him. You actually told her off? Right to her face, in front of everyone?
What else was I supposed to do? James drummed his fingers nervously on the table. Im married. And she wouldnt take the hintcompletely lost the plot. The whole departments been giving me looks.
Oh, come on, you modest sod, Tom teased. Most blokesd jump at the chance. But no, youve got to play the saint.
We just have different ideas about loyalty, James shot back mildly, though exhaustion flickered in his eyes. At first, it was just hintsI ignored them. Didnt want to be rude or make a scene.
And that, mate, was your first mistake, Tom said, raising a meaningful eyebrow. Your silence gave her hope. Made her think she had a chance.
What does she even want from me? There are plenty of single blokes around!
For women like her, a wedding ring isnt a stop signits a challenge, Tom said sagely. Proof youre worth the chase.
Emily burst into their department like an unexpected spring gale. She wasnt classically beautifulher features were too sharp, her voice low and slightly husky. But when she smiled, it was as if the world shifted. HR later admitted theyd been about to reject her until that very smile changed their minds.
At first, James genuinely liked her. Her energy and sharp wit were a breath of fresh air in the dull office routine. He happily helped her settle in, sharing advice without a second thought. To him, it was just kindnesshe was a devoted family man, seeing her as a talented colleague, almost a younger sister.
Slowly, the boundaries blurred. Emilys jokes grew suggestive, her touches too frequent, too deliberate. James, an introvert by nature, was thrown. His usual compass for decency spun wildly. He began avoiding her, skipping shared lunches. But retreat only emboldened the huntress.
***
James was in his mid-thirties, the sort of man who kept his life in meticulous orderalmost as if it took effort. Tall but slightly stooped, as though trying to appear smaller. Dark hair, neatly trimmed, already streaked with early grey at the templesheredity plus responsibility. Calm eyes, but with a weariness lurking beneathnot from work, but from an unspoken tension. He wore wire-rimmed glasses, which hed remove and rub at the bridge of his nose when stressed. His clothes were understated: plain shirts, sensible trousers. Nothing flashy.
James hated crowds. Flirting, office politicsit all felt like a foreign, exhausting language. His world was quiet, orderly, and deeply focused. He dreaded conflict, preferring silence over confrontation.
Yet beneath it all was an unshakable core built on love for his family. Sarah and the kids werent just part of his lifethey *were* his life. His loyalty wasnt performative; it was as natural as breathing.
Emily had fancied him from day one. He was the only one immune to her charms. Seducing him wasnt just about attentionit was about proving, to herself and the world, that she was irresistible. Winning over a married man, a good one, was the ultimate trophy. If a man like James fell for her, she must be worth something. And experience told her no perfect family man was ever quite what he seemed.
Within two weeks of starting, Emily was gushing to her friend Lucy about her feelings for James. Lucy listened, growing uneasy.
*Another* married one? Em, stop. Hes got two kids.
Oh, details! Hes miserableI can tell. Trapped in his perfect little cage. His wife, Sarah she doesnt *get* him. She just keeps his life tidy while his soul screams for freedom!
How dyou figure? Have you even met her?
I dont *need* to! Hes so *proper*, so buttoned-up thats not normal. Theres pain underneath. Hes scared to admit it. I want to help himshow him who he really is.
Em, love, you sound like a bad romance novel. You dont want to *help* him. You want him *because* hes off-limits. This isnt a gameits his *life*.
You dont understand, Luce. This *is* my life. Were meant to be. Hes lost. And his perfect family? Bet its not so perfect. Nothing is. Ill prove itjust wait.
***
The business trip to Manchester was torture. Guess who volunteered to join him? In front of clients, Emily was the picture of professionalism, and James nearly relaxed. But late that night, a knock came at his hotel door.
My rooms freezingthe radiators broken, Emily said, wrapped in a robe that very clearly covered nothing but silk pyjamas.
Jamess stomach dropped. Panic, thick and sticky, clawed at his throat. He pictured Sarahs faceher calm, trusting eyes.
Wait here, he managed, turning away. Ill get you a spare blanket.
Emily pouted but took it.
Youve locked yourself in a cage and thrown away the key, she said, leaving. Pity. Theres a different man under thereI know it.
James shut the door, leaning his forehead against it, pulse roaring in his ears. Relief mixed with an odd, heavy pityfor her, for himself, for the whole absurd mess.
Back at the office, Emily seemed to forget him. James began to exhale. Then, weeks later, she asked for a lift home. He refused, stiffly.
Do I disgust you?
Youre vibrant. But I love my wife. Ive got a family
Thats the *only* reason? Her eyes lit up with dangerous mischief.
No He fumbled for the right words, but she was already gone. He regretted his clumsiness instantly. And with good reason.
That night, a sharp nudge woke him. Sarahs furious whisper cut through the haze of sleep.
James, have you lost your *mind*? Whats this woman doing sending you *photos* at midnight?
He sat bolt upright, heart hammering. On his phone: Emily, posing in lace lingerie.
Sarah, its not what you think! Voice cracking, he spilled everythinghis awkwardness, his hesitation.
Sarah was silent a long moment. Then a heavy sigh.
You daft sod, she muttered, equal parts anger and affection. Fine. I believe you. Because I know youre not stupid enough for that. But tell her this: if it happens again, Ill come to that office and put on a show thatll put *EastEnders* to shame.
James nodded in the dark. Next day, he called Emily into a meeting room. She strode in, glowing, expecting surrender.
Emily, youve crossed a line, he said, steadying his voice.
Oh, stop, she purred, reaching for his cheek. She doesnt deserve you.
James recoiled. Her hand hung in the air.
What are you implying?
That your perfect lifes a lie, she said, voice honeyed and venomous. From the outside? Picture-perfect. Loving wife, princess daughter, little heir
We *are* happy.
Wake *up*, James! She loomed over the desk. Your son looks *nothing* like you! Your daughters your twin, but Ben? Not a trace!
Jamess blood turned to ice. He stared at her triumphant face, the last shreds of pity vanishing.
I tolerated your advances. But my *children*? Off-limits. His voice was quiet, lethal. Bens not my blood son. Thats between me and Sarah. But since youre so keen on prying: his parentsSarahs sister and her husbanddied. Hes *ours* now. Happy? Satisfied?
Emily paled. II didnt know.
I dont know how you got that testif its even real. But resign. Today. Or I go to the police. And if you *ever* come near my kids His pause was more terrifying than a shout. You wont *need* the police.
Emily quit that afternoon. James came home early, slipping into the kids roomsix-year-old Ben building Lego, eight-year-old Lily doing homework. He hugged them both, lingering, breathing in the familiar scent of their hair.
That evening, once theyd slept, James sat opposite Sarah.
We have to tell him, he said softly. Ben should hear it from usnot some stranger. Sooner the better.
Sarahs eyes glistenednot with grief, but relief. Im scared.
Me too. But well do it together.
A week later, they had a small family celebration. After cake, James knelt by Ben.
Mate, Mummy and I need to talk to you. About how much we love you. He took a breath. Remember how we said familys the most important thing? And it comes in all shapes. Ben Im not your birth dad. Your first mum and dad were Auntie Claire and Uncle Markthey were lovely, but theyre not here anymore. Mummy and I chose you. With our whole hearts.
Ben thought, then hugged them. Can I have more cake?
The weight lifted. In the quiet chaos of crumbs and chatter, there was no room for Emilyor her fantasies. Everything was as it should be.
