**Diary Entry December 23rd**
*»What a coincidence,» I thought, forcing a smile as I glanced up from my book. There he wasmy husband, standing in the doorway of my train compartment with her.
«Andrew, have you seen my blue scarf? The one you gave me last Christmas?» I rummaged through the wardrobe earlier that morning, pretending to be absorbed in the search.
«Check the top shelf, behind the boxes,» he called from the kitchen. «You put it there after your last… business trip.»
I froze. There was something strange in his tone. After fifteen years together, wed learned to catch the slightest shifts in each others voicesand to pretend we hadnt noticed.
«Found it!» I chirped, holding it up. «Youve got an amazing memory for these things.»
«Professional habit,» he grinned, walking in with two mugs of coffee. «A lorry driver needs to remember every route, every turn, every stop…»
*And every excuse,* I added silently.
«Guess what?» I said instead, folding clothes into my suitcase. «Theyre sending me to Manchester for workright before New Years! Insisted I had to close the annual report before the holidays.»
I avoided his eyes. There was no report. There was only James, the regional manager from Birmingham, whom Id met three years ago at a company party. Wed been meeting under the guise of business trips ever since.
«What a coincidence,» Andrew sat on the bed, handing me a coffee. «Ive got a urgent delivery to Cambridge. Clients demanding it by the 29th.»
I almost smiled. There was no urgent delivery. Three months ago, Id found his phone left on the kitchen counter. Messages from a woman named Emma, a dispatcher from Cambridge. Photos Id scrolled through before putting it back. I knew exactly where hed been going.
«How long will you be away?» he asked casually.
«Should be back by the 29th,» I said. «Got to prep for the holidays. You?»
«Same. 29th, if all goes well.»
We looked at each other and smiled. Both lying. I had a hotel booked in Manchester until the 30th. Hed planned to spend days with Emma at her countryside cottage.
That evening, we sipped tea at the kitchen table, discussing New Years plans with practised ease.
«Should we invite your parents?» I offered.
«Theyre visiting my sister in Brighton,» he said. «Yours?»
«My brother just had a babytheyre off to Liverpool.»
Relief. No extra excuses to make.
—
The train compartment was warm, the rhythmic clatter of wheels soothing. I tucked my legs under a blanket, book in hand. Ten minutes till departure. Outside, passengers hurried past, voices mingling with station announcements.
«Excuse me, is this your bag?» A womans voice carried from the corridor. «It was left by the entrance.»
«No, mines with me,» replied a mana voice I knew too well.
My breath hitched. Slowly, I looked up as the compartment door slid open.
Andrew stood there. Beside him, a striking woman in a beige coatEmma. Even prettier in person: tall, auburn hair, sharp green eyes.
Silence stretched between us.
«Fancy meeting you here,» I managed, heart pounding. «I thought you were driving to Cambridge?»
«I… route changed last minute,» he stammered, glancing between us.
«And here I thought you had urgent cargo?» My smile didnt reach my eyes.
A tall man in a navy overcoat leaned in. «Sorry Im late, love. Meeting ran over» He stopped, taking in the scene.
«James,» he introduced himself stiffly.
«My husband, Andrew,» I said. «And his… colleague?»
«Emma,» she murmured.
The conductor appeared, checking tickets with a frown. «Theres been a mix-up. All four of you are booked for the same seats.»
«Dont bother reseating us,» I said. «We have things to discuss.»
Andrew exhaled. «Might as well.»
—
Four hours to Manchester. Four people bound by lies.
«How long?» I asked Emma.
«Three years,» she admitted. «His lorry broke down near Cambridge.»
«And you?» Andrew asked James.
«Company party in Manchester.»
I laughed bitterly. «So we both started looking elsewhere at the same time.»
«For what?» James asked.
«Emotions,» I said. «We used to talk for hours. Then it became bills and weekend plans.»
«Understanding,» Andrew added. «You never asked about my drives anymore.»
«Because I knew where you really were,» I shot back. «I saw Emmas texts.»
«And I found your hotel receipt,» he countered.
Emma looked between us. «You both knew… and said nothing?»
«Easier to pretend,» Andrew muttered.
The train slowed. James stood. «I should go. Marie… this isnt right.»
Emma nodded. «Neither is us.»
On the platform, Andrew and I watched them disappear into the crowd.
«Home?» he asked.
«What about your cargo?»
«Nonexistent. Like your report.»
I took his hand. «Saw a lovely house for sale in the Cotswolds. Two floors, garden. Room for a dog.»
«Big one?»
«Massive. And a garage for your lorry.»
—
Six months later, we bought that house. Adopted a Labrador. He met me after trips with dinner ready; I learned to ask about his drives.
That train ride became our storythe one we tell on the porch, glasses of wine in hand. About how a wrong ticket brought us back to what wed already had. And how, sometimes, you only miss whats yours when youre about to lose it for good.
