«Can you let your husband go, please?»
«Where are you off to at this hour, Oliver?» asked Emily, watching as her husband hastily buttoned his shirt.
The clock showed half past seven in the evening. Oliver didnt even glance at his wife as he continued gathering his things.
«Work crisis. Theyve called me in,» he muttered over his shoulder, snatching his jacket from the hook. «Dont wait up.»
Lately, these «urgent» calls had become more frequent. A quiet unease simmered inside Emily, though she pushed it down.
«Again? This is the third time this week,» she said, trying to keep the accusation from her voice.
«Thats just how it is these days,» Oliver replied, finally looking at herbut his gaze was hollow, distant. «Ill try not to be too late.»
The front door clicked shut. Emily stood there for a moment, staring at the empty hallway, then turned slowly.
«Mum, wheres Dad going?» Their seven-year-old daughter, Lily, appeared from her room, clutching a board game. «He promised to play with me tonight.»
Emily crouched to meet her eye, gently smoothing her shoulder. Lilys eyes shimmered with disappointment.
«Dads got an important project, sweetheart. It cant wait,» Emily said, forcing conviction into her voicethough she hardly believed it herself anymore.
Lily sighed, her shoulders slumping, and shuffled back to her room. Emily watched her go, then wandered into the kitchen.
To cheer Lily up, she decided to bake her favourite oatmeal raisin biscuits. Kneading the dough, her hands moved on autopilot while her thoughts spiralled.
All the signs were there: the late nights, the secrecy, the growing distance. Oliver no longer hugged her in the mornings or kissed her goodbye. Their conversations had dwindled to household chores and Lilys school updates.
At dinner, Lily brightened a little, munching on warm biscuits and chattering about her day. Emily nodded along, asking questions, but her mind was elsewhere. After tucking Lily in with a bedtime story and a kiss, she returned to the kitchen.
The warm water ran over her hands as she washed the dishes, but the same question looped in her head: *Should I confront him?* The thought of Oliver with another woman twisted her stomachbut what would happen to Lily if they divorced? The girl adored her father. Yet, living with a liar was becoming unbearable.
Another fortnight passed. Oliver grew jumpier, flinching at phone calls, hiding his screen when she entered the room.
Then, one Saturday, he stayed home. They sat on the sofa, idly watching telly while Lily did homework in her room. The quiet was broken by Emilys phone ringingan unknown number.
«Hello?»
«Emily?» A womans voice, crisp and unfamiliar.
«Yes. Whos calling?»
«Sarah Thompson. We need to talk about something important.»
«Im sorry, but I think youve got the wrong»
The woman cut her off.
«Oh, I havent. You *are* Olivers wife, arent you?»
Emily froze. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Oliver tense.
«Thats right,» she said slowly.
She tapped the speaker button and set the phone on the coffee table.
«Good. Im Jessicas mother. The girl your husbands been seeing for the past year.» The woman spoke as if discussing the weather. «Jess is only twenty, and Olivers her first. Shes *besotted* with him. Im asking you to step asidelet him go. Were civilised people, after all.»
Emily lifted her eyes to Oliver. Hed gone pale.
«Jess cries every night,» Sarah continued. «She cant even see the man she loves openly. Dont you think its cruel to stand in their way?»
Emily cleared her throat, forcing calm. Inside, she was boiling.
«Thanks for calling, Sarah. Ill consider what youve said.»
She ended the call and turned to Oliver. He gripped the armrest like it was the last raft in a storm.
«Well, Oliver? Care to explain?» Her own voice sounded eerily detached.
«Thatsthats nonsense! A lie!» Oliver shot up, arms flailing. «I dont even *know* a Jessica!»
Her phone buzzed. A message. She opened itphotos. Oliver with a young blonde, kissing, holding hands in a café.
«Sarah sent proof of your *love*,» Emily said, turning the screen toward him.
His face contorted with fury.
«Fine! Yes, its true!» he shouted. «I met Jess at a conference, andthings just happened! What did you *expect*?»
Emily stood slowly, brows arched.
«How is this *my* fault? Did I push you into her arms?»
«It *is* your fault!» Oliver raged. «When was the last time you cared about my day? Cooked my favourite meal? *Smiled* at me? If youd just»
Emily held up a hand.
«Hold on. Does that logic work both ways? Youve been distant for *years*, but I didnt run off with some bloke!»
«Thats different!» Oliver exploded. «*Im* the one working! Providing! Youre supposed to keep the home fires burningthats *your* job!»
Emily actually stepped back, stunned.
«Wheres *that* written? And need I remind you, *I* work toofull-time! Then I come home and cook, clean, look after Lily! Am I meant to coddle you like a child as well?»
Olivers mouth opened, then shut. Silence.
Emily nodded to herself. Decision made.
«You know what? Ive suspected this for ages. Now that its out in the open, Im filing for divorce. Be happy with Jessica.»
«No!» Oliver lunged, grabbing for her hands, but she stepped away. «This isnt serious with Jessjust a fling! A mistake!»
«A *mistake*?» Emily laughed bitterly. «Are you joking?»
«Please, lets talk this through!» His voice turned pleading. «I *cant* leave this family!»
«Why not?»
«Where would I *live*?» The words tumbled out before he could stop them.
Emilys smile was razor-thin.
«Ah. So *thats* it. You werent hiding this to spare meyou just didnt want to end up on the streets.»
Oliver said nothing. His silence said everything.
«Pack your things. Now.»
She walked to Lilys room, where the girl stood in the doorway, wide-eyed. Emily pulled her close.
«Come on, love. Lets finish your homework.»
An hour later, Oliver stood in the hallway with two bulging suitcasesdishevelled, defeated.
«Emily, give me another chance,» he begged. «Ill make it right!»
She opened the door, gesturing outside.
«Go to Jessica. Let *her* comfort you, Oliver. After all, shes worth betraying your family for.»
He stepped out. Emily locked the door behind him, leaning against it, eyes closed. Inside, there was a hollow spacebut beneath it, relief. She wouldnt tolerate a liar in her home. Not for anything.
