**Diary Entry**
What a twist of fatemy heart almost stopped when I walked into the train compartment and found him there, with *her*.
«Andy, have you seen my blue scarf? The one you gave me last Christmas?» I rummaged through the wardrobe, pretending to be entirely absorbed in the search.
«Check the top shelf, behind the shoeboxes,» he called from the kitchen. «You put it there after your last business trip.»
I froze. There was something odd in his tone. Or was I imagining it? Fifteen years of marriage had taught us to catch the slightest shift in each others voices. It had also taught us to expertly pretend we hadnt noticed.
«Found it!» I forced a bright tone. «Youre right, behind the boxes. Youve always had an uncanny memory for these things.»
«Occupational hazard,» Andy chuckled, stepping in with two mugs of tea. «A lorry driver needs to remember every route, every turn, every stop»
*And every excuse*, I thought, but instead said, «Guess what? Ive been sent to Manchester for work. Right before Christmas! The bosses insist I gosomething about closing the annual report before the holidays.»
I busied myself with packing, avoiding his eyes. There was no report. There was only Jamesthe regional manager from Birmingham Id met three years ago at a company dinner. Since then, wed met every few months under the pretence of business trips.
«What a coincidence!» Andy sat on the edge of the bed, handing me my tea. «Ive got a last-minute haul to Liverpool. The client needs it delivered by the 29th.»
I nearly smiled. There was no urgent shipment. There was only the phone hed left on the kitchen counter three months ago, the messages from a woman named Sophie, a dispatcher from Liverpool, the photos Id scrolled through before slipping it back. I knew exactly where he went when he took those routes.
«How long will you be gone?» he asked casually.
«I should be back by the 29th,» I said. «Need to prep for Christmas. You?»
«SameIll wrap it up by then.»
We looked at each other and smiled. Both lying. I had a hotel booked in Manchester until the 30th, while Andy had planned to spend days with Sophie at her countryside cottage.
That evening, we sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea and discussing holiday plans with practised easeyears of marriage had perfected the illusion of harmony.
«Should we invite your parents over?» I suggested.
«Theyre visiting my sister in Brighton,» he said. «Yours?»
«My brother just had a babytheyre going to Sheffield.»
We both exhaled. No need for more lies.
* * *
The train compartment was warm and snug. I settled by the window with a book and a blanket. Ten minutes until departure. Outside, passengers hurried past, voices mingling with the station announcements.
«Excuse me, is this your bag?» A womans voice carried from the corridor. «It was left near the carriage door.»
«No, mines here,» a man replieda voice that sent a jolt through me. «Let me help you find your seat.»
I looked up just as the compartment door slid open.
Andy stood there. Beside him, a striking woman in a beige trench coatSophie. She was even lovelier in person: tall, slender, with auburn waves and sharp green eyes.
For a long moment, none of us spoke. The silence stretched, thick with shock.
«Fancy meeting you here!» I said, forcing calm, though my pulse hammered. «Thought you were heading to Liverpool?»
«I» Andys gaze darted between us. «Route change. Last-minute.»
«Odd. Didnt you say it was a lorry haul?» My smile didnt reach my eyes.
Just then, a tall man in an expensive navy coat peered in. «Sorry Im late, love,» he said. «Meeting ran over»
Andys brows shot up. He knew exactly who this was.
«James,» the man introduced himself, glancing at our tense little group. «And you are?»
«My husband, Andy,» I said smoothly. «And his colleague?»
«Sophie,» the redhead murmured.
The conductor appeared, frowning at our tickets. «Theres been a mix-upall four of you are booked for the same seats. Must be a system error before the holidays. Ill have to reseat you.»
«Dont bother,» I said firmly. «Well stay. Seems weve got plenty to talk about.»
Andy exhaled. «Might as well. Fates thrown us together for a reason.»
Sophie and James exchanged uneasy glances. The conductor shrugged and left. As the train pulled away, the four of us sat in taut silence.
«So,» I leaned back. «Four hours ahead. Shall we be honest for once?»
The first minutes were agonyjust the rhythmic clatter of the tracks and stifled tension. James pretended to check emails. Sophie twisted a pendant around her neck. Andy stared out at the passing winter fields. I flipped pages without reading.
«How long?» I finally asked Sophie.
«Three years,» she admitted. «We met when his lorry broke down near Liverpool.»
«And you?» Andy eyed James.
«Corporate event in Manchester. Three years ago.»
I laughed bitterly. «So we both strayed at the same time.»
«But why?» James frowned. «You two seem fine.»
«Fine,» Andy echoed. «Exactly. Routine. Wake up, work, dinner, sleep. Year after year.»
«I missed passion,» I admitted. «We used to talk for hours. Then it became bills and weekend errands.»
«And I missed being *seen*,» Andy added. «You never asked about my day anymore.»
«Because I *knew*,» I cut in. «I saw Sophies texts on your phone months ago.»
«And I found the hotel receipt in your bag,» he shot back. «Along with the photos of James.»
«You both *knew*?» Sophie gasped.
«What was I supposed to say?» I scoffed. *Darling, I know youre cheating, but dont worryso am I?*
«Easier to pretend,» Andy muttered. «We had our own lives, our little escapes»
«Little escapes,» I repeated. «What about the big ones? The country house we dreamed of? The dog? Travelling?»
Andys voice softened. «I still think about it every time I drive past those cottages.»
«Me too,» I whispered. «Every For Sale sign, I imagine us there.»
Sophie and James shifted uncomfortably.
«Andrew and I never talked about the future,» Sophie said quietly. «Just the present.»
«Same with us,» James admitted. «Guess we all knew it wouldnt last.»
«Do *we* have one?» I asked Andy suddenly. «A future, I mean.»
He stared out the window a long while. Then: «Remember how we met? You missed the last train, and I offered a lift in my beat-up Ford.»
I smiled. «It broke down halfway. We spent hours on the roadside, talking about everything.»
«Exactly. We *could* talk. Then we just stopped.»
«Maybe its not too late to start again,» I whispered.
As the train slowed into Manchester, James stood. «I should go.» He hesitated. «Emily its best if we dont see each other again.»
Sophie nodded at Andy. «Im sorry too. We all need to stop before this gets messier.»
On the platform, Andy and I watched them disappear into the crowd.
«Home?» he asked finally.
«What about your Liverpool haul?»
«Never existed. Just like your report.»
«I know.» I took his hand. «Theres a lovely cottage for sale in the Cotswolds. Two floors, big garden. Room for a dog.»
«A big one?»
«Massive. And a garage for your lorry.»
We bought tickets back to London. On the train, we talkedreally talkedfor the first time in years. About our mistakes, our fears, how much wed missed each other without realising.
Six months later, we bought that cottage. Adopted a Labrador. Made time for each other. I started meeting him after long hauls with home-cooked meals; he learned to ask about my day.
We realised, after fifteen years, we werent just spouseswe were family. The kind who forgives, understands, and rebuilds. And that mattered more than any fleeting thrill.
That strange, absurd encounter on the train became our storyone wed laugh about years later, sitting on our porch. A story about how chance helped us rediscover what wed always had. We just needed to remember to cherish it.
