I caught a glimpse of my daughters phone messages and finally understood why my husband had been acting so strangely.
«Honestly, I cant take this anymore! Every single night, the same routine!» Emma slammed the plates into the sink with a clatter. «He comes home, eats in silence, then disappears into his study for hours. Its like living with a stranger!»
«Mum, relax,» Sophie set her phone aside and gave her frazzled mother a patient look. «Dads just going through a rough patch at work. You know how it is.»
«A rough patch?» Emma threw her hands up. «This rough patch has been going on for three months! Your dad used to always make time to talk, to tell me about his day. Now? Theres this wall between us. And those odd phone calls he takes in whispers…»
Sophie shifted awkwardly in her chair, her gaze flickering toward the phone shed left on the table.
«Youre overthinking it, Mum. Dads just exhausted.»
«Exhausted,» Emma echoed. «And he wasnt exhausted before? Twenty-five years together, and he always had energy for his family. Now, suddenly»
She trailed off, waving a hand dismissively before attacking an already-clean saucepan with a scouring pad. Sophie sighed, grabbed her phone, and retreated to her room. Emma watched her go with a heavy heart.
Something was wrong in their family, and she couldnt figure out what. Jamesalways so open, so presenthad become distant, evasive. He worked late, avoided eye contact, and carried a secretiveness that gnawed at her.
«Another woman?» The thought haunted her, but she dismissed it. Not James. Never. So what, then?
After finishing the dishes, Emma wandered into the hallway just as the front door opened.
«Evening,» James mumbled, toeing off his shoes. «Late again.»
«As usual,» Emma forced a smile that didnt reach her eyes. «Hungry?»
«Not really.» He avoided her gaze. «Sophie home?»
«Upstairs,» Emma nodded. «James can we talk?»
«About what?» He finally met her eyes, and she saw exhaustionand something else. Fear?
«About us. About whatevers happening. Youve been so distant…»
«Emma, not tonight,» he squeezed her shoulder gently. «Im just knackered.»
Without waiting for a reply, he headed upstairs, knocked on Sophies door, and slipped inside at her quiet «come in.» Emma stood frozen in the hallway, anxiety coiling in her chest. What had happened to her husband? To their family?
That night, sleep wouldnt come. James lay beside her, turned away, his breathing steadybut she knew he wasnt asleep. Whatever weighed on his mind kept him awake. She wanted to reach out, to demand answers, but fear held her back.
The next morning, after James left for work, Emma busied herself with cleaninganything to fill the silence. Sophie was still asleep (second-year university students and their lie-ins).
As Emma dusted and scrubbed mechanically, she found herself in Sophies tidy room. A quick tidy-upmaking the bed, straightening the deskand then she spotted the forgotten phone.
«Best plug it in,» she thought. Sophie never locked it; «nothing to hide,» she always said. As Emma connected it to the charger, the screen lit uprevealing an open chat with her father.
She didnt mean to read it. Truly. But the message on the screen burned into her vision:
«Dad, you HAVE to tell Mum. She deserves to know.»
Emmas heart stuttered. Deserved to know what?
«Put the phone down,» she ordered herself. But her fingers betrayed her, scrolling up through the history.
James: «Soph, I cant tell her. Not after everything with her mum.»
Sophie: «This is different! The doctors said the odds are good!»
James: «Still. Chemo, surgeryshed lose it with worry.»
Emmas hands went numb. Chemo? Surgery?
Sophie: «Dad, shes not blind. She knows somethings up. Yesterday she asked if you were having an affair.»
James: «Dont be daft. Just tell her works hectic. I need more time. At least till the biopsy results.»
Biopsy. Emma sank onto Sophies bed, her vision swimming. James was sick. Her James. And hed been hiding it.
With trembling fingers, she scrolled further back. Messages from three months ago:
James: «Soph, I need your help. Dont tell Mum.»
Sophie: «Whats wrong?»
James: «Remember my stomach pains? Got the tests back. Not good. Being referred to oncology.»
Sophie: «DAD!»
James: «Shh. Might be nothing. But Mum cant knownot after Grans stroke.»
Emma shut her eyes. Granher motherhad suffered a stroke six months prior. Emma had barely held it together then, losing weight, barely sleeping. And James had been her rock.
Now he was the one suffering. And keeping it from her to spare her pain.
The creak of the door startled her. Sophie stood frozen in the doorway.
«Mum? What are you»
«Just tidying,» Emma hastily set the phone down, but it was too late. Sophies face fell as she spotted the open chat.
«You read my messages?» Her voice wasnt angryjust scared.
«Sophie,» Emma stood on shaky legs. «Whats wrong with your dad?»
Sophie bit her lip, then exhaled heavily and sat beside her.
«Hes going to kill me.»
«Sophie, please.»
And so Sophie told her. The stomach pains three months ago. The tests. The suspicion of pancreatic cancer.
«He didnt want to worry you, Mum,» Sophie whispered. «He said hed wait for the biopsy. Then then it got harder to admit hed kept it secret so long.»
«Hard for him?» Emma shook her head. «Your dads never been afraid of anything.»
«Afraid of upsetting you,» Sophie met her eyes. «He saw how Grans stroke wrecked you. He couldnt bear putting you through that again. The biopsys tomorrow.»
«Tomorrow,» Emma echoed. «And he was going alone?»
«No. I promised Id go.»
Emma walked to the window. Outside, a normal spring daysunshine, blossoming trees, people milling about. A day when her world had tilted.
«Mum,» Sophie ventured. «Are you furious?»
«With who?» Emma turned. «You? For keeping his secret? Or him? For not trusting me?»
«Both, probably,» Sophie mumbled.
«We shouldve told you.»
«Yes,» Emma nodded. «Now tell mewheres the biopsy? What time?»
«St. Georges. Ten AM.»
«Right,» Emma squared her shoulders. «Now lets make your dads favourite for dinner. Hell be starving.»
That evening, James walked in to find the table set and Emma unusually cheerful.
«Whats the occasion?» He eyed the roast beef sceptically.
«No occasion,» Emma smiled. «Just felt like spoiling my husband.»
James eyed her, then Sophiewho was suddenly very interested in her peas.
«Somethings up,» he said slowly, sitting.
«Just a little revelation,» Emma poured him wine. «Im coming with you to St. Georges tomorrow.»
The glass froze halfway to his lips. James paled, his hand trembling, spilling wine onto the tablecloth.
«You» He stared at Sophie. «You told her?»
«I didnt!» Sophie raised her hands. «Mum saw our texts while cleaning.»
«Dont blame her,» Emma laid a hand on Jamess arm. «I shouldnt have snooped.»
«I was trying to protect you,» James whispered, staring at the wine stain. «After your mums stroke»
«And you thought watching you pull away wasnt killing me?» Emma shook her head. «I knew something was wrong, James. Not knowing was worse.»
«Im sorry,» he gripped her hand. «I thought I was doing the right thing.»
«The right thing is facing this together,» Emma squeezed back. «Like weve faced everything else.»
Sophie sniffled.
«Now look what youve done,» James joked weakly.
«Relief,» Sophie wiped her eyes. «Lying to you was awful, Mum.»
«Forgotten,» Emma declared. «Now eat before it gets cold. Big day tomorrow.»
For the first time in months, they laughed over dinner. Only when Sophie went upstairs did Emma ask quietly:
«Why, James? Why try to handle this alone?»
He stared out the window before answering.
«Stupid pride, I suppose. Didnt want to seem weak. Not after being your rock with your mum. You looked at me like I was unbreakable. And then»
«You are my rock,» Emma cupped his face. «But even rocks weather storms. Let me be yours for once.»
James pulled her into a crushing hug.
«Im such an idiot,» he murmured. «Wasted so much time hiding when I couldve just told you.»
«You couldve,» Emma agreed. «But we move forward now. Together.»
The next morning, the three of them went to St. Georges. The biopsy took hours. Then came the agonising wait for results.
Finally, the consultant smiled over his glasses.
«Benign. Well remove it surgically, but no chemo needed.»
Emma clutched Jamess hand as relief flooded her. He closed his eyes, sheer joy on his face.
«Thank you, Doctor,» Emma breathed.
«Thank your husband,» the doctor nodded at James. «Not many men his age act so promptly. Six months later, and wed be having a very different conversation.»
Outside, James leaned against the wall, covering his face as his shoulders shook.
«James,» Emma held him. «Its alright. Its over.»
«Forgive me,» he looked up with red-rimmed eyes. «For shutting you out when you only wanted to help.»
«Nothing to forgive,» she wiped his cheek. «Were together now. Thats all that matters.»
Sophie rushed over. «Well? What did he say?»
«All clear,» Emma hugged her. «Just surgery, and Dads good as new.»
«Thank God,» Sophie sagged. «I was so scared»
«We all were,» Emma looked at James. «But its over now. Right, darling?»
«Right,» he smiledhis old, warm smile. «And things will be better than ever.»
He pulled them both into a tight embrace. And Emma thought, sometimes you have to invade someones phone to save what matters most. Even if its not entirely proper.
