**Diary Entry 15th July**
«Mrs. Thompson, have you lost your mind? This is a graduation, not a carnival!» The form tutor of Year 13 clapped her hands in exasperation. «Live butterflies? Where on earth would we even get them? And more importantlywhy?»
«But Mrs. Whitmore, it has to be something special!» Emily insisted, tapping her pen against the list of ideas. «This is our childrens last school event. Theyll remember it forever!»
The parents committee had gathered in the headteachers office to finalise plans. I sat quietly in the corner, my thoughts elsewhereupcoming work deadlines, unpaid bills, and the nagging worry about my husband, whod seemed distant these past few months.
«Charlotte, what do you think?» Mrs. Whitmores voice pulled me back. «You work in event planning, dont you?»
I straightened in my chair, gathering my thoughts. «I think we should focus on what really matters to the kidsgood music, a photo booth, maybe a small buffet. The rest is just unnecessary expense and stress.»
Emily pursed her lips. «Of course, youd say thatalways the practical one. But the children want a proper celebration!»
«They want to enjoy time with their friends, not watch butterflies,» I countered gently. «Ask Sophie if you dont believe me.»
Mentioning our daughter softened Emily slightly. A vote was called, and relief washed over me when the simpler plan won. One less problemif only I could figure out what was happening at home.
Leaving the meeting, I called my husband. «James? Are you still at work?» I asked, weaving through the car park.
«Yeah, Im running late,» he said, sounding tired. «This projects a nightmare. Dont wait up for dinner.»
«Again?» I couldnt hide my frustration. «Third time this week.»
«Charlotte, not now,» he snapped. «Im working, not out having fun. And dont worryIll be there for Sophies graduation.»
Back home, Sophie was hunched over her history textbook. Exams were over, but university applications loomed. «How was the meeting?» she asked without looking up. «Did you save us from Mrs. Thompsons latest madness?»
I smiled, pulling ingredients from the fridge. «You wont believe itshe wanted live butterflies.»
Sophie wrinkled her nose. «Ugh, Id spend the whole time terrified one would land on me.»
«Exactly. Dads working late again.»
«Shocker,» she muttered. Then, hesitantly: «Mum do you ever think hes»
«What?» I froze, knife in hand.
«Nothing. Forget it.»
But the seed was planted. Over twenty years of marriage, and suddenly James was distantlate nights, secretive phone calls, deleted messages. Id dismissed the idea of an affair, but doubt gnawed at me.
Graduation day arrived. Sophie looked stunning in her white dress, and Id made an effort toonavy blue, hair done, a touch of makeup. The hall was beautifully decorated (butterfly-free, thankfully).
James was late. When he finally appeared, my stomach droppednext to him stood a woman. Tall, blonde, in a red dress, whispering in his ear. That smilethe one that used to be just for uswas now shared with her.
I felt the ground vanish beneath me. So thats whythe late nights, the secrecy. And hed brought her to our daughters graduation?
Sophie beamed when she spotted him, oblivious. I sat through the ceremony numb, barely hearing a word.
Later, I confronted him. «Who is she?»
James looked baffled, then sighed. «OhLaura? Shes my bosss daughter. Just moved here. Dad asked me to show her around.»
I didnt believe himuntil we spoke to her. Polite, engaged, utterly uninterested in James romantically.
Still, something was off. That night, walking home, he finally confessed: «Ive been hiding something. Not an affair. Ive been unwellscans, tests. They thought it might be serious.»
My heart lurched. «Why didnt you tell me?»
«I didnt want to worry you. Not before Sophies big day.» He squeezed my hand. «But its benign. Just needs surgery.»
I held him tightly, relief and guilt flooding me. All my suspicionswrong.
**Lesson learned:** Fear breeds doubt, but trust is stronger. Twenty years of marriage isnt undone by shadows. Some secrets are just love in disguise.
