Oh, *this* old dress! Would you believe I just chucked it in the bin?
Standing by the kitchen table, lifting the lid of the rubbish bin, Emily suddenly froze. «Oh, *this* old dress! Are you telling me *I* put it here?»
Honestly, Emily asked herself the same question almost dailywhat on earth did she ever see in James?
Appearance-wise, he was painfully averageso much so that she was embarrassed to introduce him to her friends, who still assumed she was happily single. The only person who knew she lived with a man was her sister, and she was sworn to secrecy.
James hadnt exactly set the world on fire career-wisehe worked as a mechanic at a factory.
Sometimes, slumped in front of the telly, Emily would catch herself thinking it was high time to end things with James.
But just as shed steel herself for it, hed turn up with flowers or some little trinket, and shed postpone the breakup for another day.
Before meeting Emily, James had been marriedbriefly. The whole thing lasted barely two months, but it still managed to produce a daughter.
By the time Emily came along, the girl was twelve. Shed never laid eyes on her, nor had she any desire to.
But then her birthday plansa swanky night out with her girlfriendswere rudely interrupted.
«Emily,» James began hesitantly, «my ex has some business trip and needs me to take Sophie for a bit…»
«How longs ‘a bit’?» Emily grimacedthe last thing she wanted for her birthday was a child underfoot.
«About a month.»
«A *month*?» She scowled. «And I suppose were footing the bill for this little adventure?»
«Well, she didnt send any money,» James admitted, shrugging helplessly.
«So let me get this straightyoure paying child support, yet *were* the ones feeding, housing, and ferrying her around for a month? Brilliant.»
«Its not like my wages are anything to write home about,» James muttered weakly.
«And how, exactly, is this supposed to work? School runs, babysittingwhy are you even agreeing to this?» Emily fumed, the idea of sharing her space with someone elses child making her skin crawl.
«Um because Im your dad?» James looked genuinely baffled. «Or am I just supposed to pretend she doesnt exist?»
«First, you dont live alone. Second, this is *my* flatyou shouldve asked. Third, its *my* birthday, and I dont want it ruined!» she snapped.
«I hardly think my daughter counts as a ruination,» James mumbled, guilt creeping in.
«Oh, *something* will go wrongI guarantee it,» Emily huffed, arms folded.
James tried to reassure her, but optimism wasnt exactly his strong suit.
The next day, a chubby-faced girl with caked-on makeup (who looked at least sixteen) appeared at their door.
She shot Emily a glare, ignored her completely, and turned to James.
«Where am I sleeping?»
«Youll have to make do with the kitchen,» James offered with a pained smile.
Sophie rolled her eyes and fled to the bathroom in tears.
«What was *that*?» Emily hissed. «Rude and entitled. Thank goodness Im celebrating at a café. And *you*,» she jabbed a finger at James, «are staying here.»
«Why?» He looked genuinely wounded. «I thought maybe youd finally introduce me to your friends. Weve lived together six months…»
«Youre on *dad duty*,» Emily said sweetly, privately relieved she wouldnt have to explain him to her friendswhose boyfriends were all gym-toned and well-groomed.
«Right.» Jamess voice was flat.
The next morning, Emily was all whirlwind energy, prepping for her big night. She ironed her favourite dress, hung it up, and left it waiting.
James still hadnt spoken to herhadnt even wished her happy birthday.
She refused to let it sour her mood. After work, she dashed home to changeonly to find the dress missing.
«Wheres my *dress*?» she shrieked, storming into the kitchen where Sophie lounged on the camp bed.
The girl didnt even glance up, thumbing her phone.
«Hello? *Earth to Brat*?» Emily snatched the phone.
«Give it *back*!» Sophie screeched as James rushed in.
«Whats going on? Give her the phone!»
«Wheres. My. *Dress*?» Emily ground out.
«Didnt take it,» Sophie sneered. «She just *hates* me!»
«Give it back *now*,» James ordered.
«Oh, *of course* shell admit it!» Emily hurled the phone to the floor. The screen shattered. Sophie burst into tears. Emily flounced out, triumphant.
She scrambled for a backup outfit, dressed in record time, and swept off to the café.
By midnight, shed made up her mindshe was dumping James.
She stumbled back at dawn. James was waiting.
«Do you have *any* idea what time it is?»
«Ooh, playing the stern husband now? Bit late for that,» Emily drawled. «Pack your things. Youre both out by morning.»
«So *Im* the villain here?»
«You smashed Sophies phone!»
«She *stole* my dress!»
«Sophie didnt take anything!» Jamess voice was steel. «I *know* she didnt.»
Emily rolled her eyes. Done with this nonsense, she grabbed an unfinished wine bottle from the cupboard.
One sipand she gagged. «*Shampoo*? Did I pour this in too?»
Laughing bitterly, she yanked open the binand froze.
«Oh, *this* old dress! Did I chuck it in here as well?»
«You were *looking* for an excuse! Admit ityouve wanted out for ages!» James shouted.
Emily arched a brow. Oh, she remembered *exactly* why.
«I *bugged* the flat. Heard every chat with your sister. I *know* what you really think of me!» James said, weirdly proud.
«Well, *that* explains a lot!» Emilys voice was icy. «Goodbye.»
This time, James didnt fight it. Some things just arent worth saving.
