In a dreamlike haze, the schools graduation committee meeting unfolded like a scene from a surreal play. Mrs. Thompson, the form tutor of Year 13, threw her hands up in exasperation.
Good heavens, Mrs. Whitmore! This is a graduation, not a masquerade ball! Live butterflies? Where on earth would we even get them? And more importantlywhy?
But it must be something extraordinary, Valerie! Elizabeth Whitmore tapped her pen insistently against the list of ideas. This is our childrens last school celebration. Theyll remember it forever!
Seated in the corner of the headmasters office, Emily observed the debate in silence. Her mind wanderedwork deadlines looming, unpaid bills, and the quiet, gnawing worry about her husband, who had seemed distant lately.
Emily, what do you think? Mrs. Thompsons voice snapped her back to reality. You work in event planning, dont you?
Emily straightened in her chair. I think we should focus on what truly matters to the students, she said calmly. Good music, a photo booth, perhaps a modest buffet. Anything else is just unnecessary extravagance.
Elizabeth pursed her lips. Of course, youd say that. Always so frugal. The children want a proper celebration!
They want to enjoy time with their friends, not gawk at butterflies, Emily countered gently. Ask Charlotte if you dont believe me.
The mention of her daughter softened Elizabeth. Fine, lets put it to a vote.
The majority chose simplicity, and Emily exhaled in relief. One problem down. Now, if only she could unravel the mystery at home.
Later, as she navigated the car park, she dialled her husband. James? Still at the office?
Yes, running late, he replied, exhaustion lacing his voice. This projects a nightmare. Dont wait up.
Again? She couldnt hide the disappointment. Third time this week.
Emily, not now, he sighed irritably. Im working, not gallivanting. And dont worryIll be there for Charlottes graduation.
At home, Charlotte hunched over a history textbook. Exams were over, but university loomed.
How was the meeting? she asked without looking up. Save us from another one of Elizabeths wild ideas?
Emily smiled, rummaging through the fridge. This time, she wanted live butterflies.
Charlotte grimaced. Ugh. Id spend the whole time terrified one would land on me.
Exactly. Dads working late again.
Shocking, Charlotte muttered. Then, hesitantly, Mum do you ever think hes
What? Emily froze, knife in hand.
Nothing. Just hes been acting odd.
Emilys chest tightened. Had Charlotte noticed it too? The late nights, the hushed calls, the deleted messages. Twenty years of marriagecould he really?
The next fortnight blurred in a whirl of work and graduation preparations. James still worked late but promised hed be there.
On the day, Emily visited the salonhair, nails, a touch of makeup. At forty-five, she looked younger when she smiled. Shed chosen a sleek navy dress, elegant and flattering. Charlotte had insisted.
Let my classmates see how gorgeous my mum is, shed said, fixing Emilys hair.
Charlotte herself was radiant in white. Emilys eyes prickled.
Dont start, Charlotte warned, though her own eyes glistened. Youll ruin your makeup.
The school hall had transformedballoons, flowers, a photo wall. James hadnt arrived.
She texted: *Starting soon. Where are you?*
*On my way. Ten minutes.*
The ceremony began. The headmaster spoke, then students filed up for diplomas. When Charlottes name was called, Emily craned her neckand saw him.
James stood near the back, clapping. Beside hima woman. Tall, blonde in a red dress, younger than Emily. She whispered something, and James smiledthe private smile hed once reserved for family.
Emilys stomach dropped. So this was it. The late nights, the secrecy. Hed brought her *here*?
Charlotte beamed from the stage, waving at them both. She hadnt noticed the woman.
Emily sat numb through the rest. The laughter, the glanceseach one a dagger.
At the buffet, James found her. Emily, whats wrong?
She wrenched her arm free. Who is she?
Confusion flickered across his face. Thenrealisation. Oh. Thats Sophie. My bosss daughter. Shes new in town. He asked me to show her around.
Emily stared.
Honestly, he said, rubbing his temple. Come meet her.
Sophie turned, smiling politely. Lovely to meet you! James talks about you both all the time. Apologies for intrudingmy father insisted.
Emily shook her hand, searching for deceit. But Sophies demeanour held no guiltjust mild awkwardness.
Later, as they walked through the park, James sighed. I owe you an apology. Ive been hiding somethingbut not what you think.
Her pulse stuttered.
Remember my back pain? I had tests. They found something questionable. More scans. I didnt want to scare younot before Charlottes graduation.
Emilys breath caught. And?
Benign. Needs surgery, but nothing fatal. I only got the results two days ago.
She clutched his hand. You idiot. We face things together.
He pulled her close. I know. Im sorry.
Twenty years. Through mortgages, job losses, parenthood. And now this.
Sophie? she murmured.
Coincidence. Shes engaged, actually.
Emily laugheda shaky, relieved sound. And here I was, imagining
Never, he said firmly, squeezing her hand. Never.
She believed him. Because after twenty years, some things were stronger than doubt.
