Why are you home so early? came a startled voice from the bedroom.
Who was calling? Its nearly midnight, Paul asked his wife, Sophie, with a puzzled frown.
Oh it was my boss, she murmured, avoiding his gaze. Theres an urgent work conference I have to attend.
At midnight? He crossed his arms. What kind of conference is this? Are you sure its necessary?
Yes, unfortunately. Its one of the biggest events in our industrytop experts, groundbreaking developments. I cant miss it.
But you just flew to that expo in Manchester last month. No one else can go?
I dont *want* to go, Sophie sighed, but you know how important this is for my career. Its only two weeks. You understand, dont you?
Paul exhaled sharply. Fine, if its that important. But Im getting used to being alone, and I dont like it. Ill miss you.
Ill miss you too, love. The quicker I go, the quicker Ill be back. And when I return, well take a proper holidayjust us. She leaned into him.
He relented. Alright. Ill survive two weeks.
Two days later, Paul loaded her suitcase into the taxi.
Right, Im off. Love youdont miss me too much!
Once inside the cab, Sophie pulled out her phone and tapped a familiar contact.
*Just left home. Be at the airport soon.*
A reply flashed instantly: *Perfect. Waiting in our room. Cant wait to see youmissed you!* Heart emojis followed.
Sophie smirked, glancing at her wedding ring. Another lie to her doting husband. Not that she felt guilty. Paul was lovely, but dull. And then there was Michael. Just the thought of him sent a shiver through her.
Two weeks of scorching sun, turquoise seas, and reckless nightsthats what she needed. The «conference» was just a cover. She knew it was wrong, but reason had long lost the battle.
The island was paradise. Sophie lounged on the beach, watching the waves, relishing every stolen moment with Michael.
She studied him as he emerged from the water, muscles glistening. Drops rolled down his chest, and she fought the urge to drag him back to their room.
A pang of melancholy hit her. Their time was almost up. Shed told Paul she was combining work with a breakfrom him, too, though shed never say it aloud.
Divorce wasnt on the cards yet. Not until she had a backup plan.
Michael, she ventured, do you think we could make this work after I leave Paul?
He sprawled on a sunbed, towel slung over his shoulder, and trailed a finger along her knee. If you sort things cleanly, yeah. Get a solicitordont try to wing it.
His indifference stung. Shed imagined moving in with him, weeks of tangled limbs and whispered promises. Instead, he just shrugged.
That evening, they dined at a seaside restaurant, toasting their last night. Wine warmed her veins, but her mind wandered to the confrontation awaiting her at home.
To Sophie, Paul was a foola mamas boy, blind to her infidelity. But divorce? That could be messy. If his mother got involved, the courts would drag it out.
Soon, she declared, raising her glass, Ill be free, and well be together.
Michael froze. Waitno. That was never the deal.
Her stomach dropped.
Look, this was fun, but Ive got a wife. Two kids. Another on the way. Didnt I mention that?
Sophies lips parted. *No. No, you didnt.*
If you want a divorce, fine. But Im not leaving my family. Got it?
She sat in stunned silence. The flight home was worsehours of quiet fury, her heart pounding like a trapped thing.
At the airport, Michael hailed separate cabs.
Take care, Sophie.
She didnt look at him. Dont call me.
As the cars sped opposite ways, tears burned her eyes. Her imagined future was ash. Now she had to crawl back to Paul, pretend nothing happened.
Alone? Unthinkable. Shed *always* had someoneparents, boyfriends, Paul. Being alone meant being unloved.
The taxi stopped outside her flat. She dragged her suitcase inside, rehearsing apologies, promises of therapy, holidays to rekindle what theyd lost.
She slid the key into the lock.
Then froze.
Voices.
A giggle.
Her stomach twisted.
She shoved the door open.
Paul shot up from the sofa, eyes wide. Sophie? Youreyoure back early.
She stormed past him.
There, in *their* beda woman scrambling for the sheets.
Sophie saw red.
She lunged, yanking the stranger to the floor. Paul barely pulled her off before claws met flesh.
You *bastard*! Sophie screamed. Im working my arse off, and you bring some tart into our home?
The woman fled, clutching her clothes.
Paul released Sophie only when she sagged in his grip.
I thought youd be waiting for me, she spat. Instead, you replace me just like that?
His expression hardened. I know you werent at any conference. You were with *Michael*. A pause. So I returned the favour.
Her breath hitched. No denial. No excuse.
She packed in silence and left.
At her friend Emmas, she sobbed into a wine-stained dress. How do I forgive this?
Emma stroked her hair. Real love means fighting for each other.
By morning, forgiveness didnt seem impossible. Theyd both been vile. Were they still the people whod once vowed forever?
The next day, she knocked on Pauls door, heart in her throat.
He let her in without a word.
Ive thought about it, he said quietly. We should try again. We hurt each other, but maybe we can fix this.
Sophie stared.
He took her hands. Lets forgive. Move on. Buy a bigger place. Start a family. Never do this again.
She collapsed against him, weeping.
Somehow, the betrayal made them stronger. They talked more. Planned more.
And neither ever strayed again.
