Emma and I have been married for twentysix years. We met at university, married after graduation, and two years later our son was born. Just an ordinary, allBritish family.
Our son grew up, got married and moved to London with his wife. When he left, the rhythm of life for Emma and me shifted dramatically. Suddenly we found there was nothing much to talk about, and we didnt even feel the need to. Wed known each other inside out, could finish each others sentences with a glance, yet now wed exchange a few words and fall silent.
When I first started working after college, there was a woman in the office, about fortyfive, who seemed far older than she was. She took a lot of winter holiday and always came back with an even tan. Her boyish short haircut and lightblond hair highlighted her tanned complexion.
Probably spends time in a tanning salon, whispered a younger colleague.
One day I could no longer contain my curiosity and asked her how she managed such a suntan in winter.
We spent a week at a ski resort in the Alps with our husbands, she replied.
Really? At our age? I exclaimed.
She burst into laughter.
At fortyfive Im just hitting my stride. When you reach my age youll realise that this is true youth not reckless, but mature. Remember, dear, boredom is the biggest enemy of a marriage. All affairs and divorces start from it. When the kids grow up life settles into a quiet routine, and thats when many men start to feel trapped. We women never have time to be bored; we work, look after the children, and the house falls on our shoulders. Meanwhile, a man lounges on the sofa after work, thinking about how to use his spare energy. Some drink, some look for new thrills, as the saying goes, they go hunting for a new lady.
I was foolish, thinking my husband was just tired from work, that it was harmless to sit in front of the telly and not drink. Yet I was buzzing around the house like an electric broom. Then one day he turned to me and said hed fallen in love with someone else, that life with me was boring, and he left. Can you imagine?
When I remarried, I behaved completely differently. I made my husband pitch in with the housework, we always took weekend trips out of town, went hiking, skied in winter. I never gave him a minutes peace, kept him off the couch. Were still together, the children are grown, and we keep travelling around the country. It might not suit everyone, but theres a lesson there.
Emma remembered those words well. She began to notice that after a hearty dinner James would drift to the sofa and plant himself in front of the television. It became harder to coax him outdoors. Once he used to go trekking, paddleboarding down fast rivers. He still surprised her with elaborate birthday gestures.
Emma tried to shake James out of his slump. She bought theatre tickets, a threedecked Thames cruise, and even a weekend on a lake. At the theatre he dozed, at a friends house he yawned after a couple of glasses of wine, always rushing back to his beloved sofa. On the boat he complained about the cramped cabin. Skiing was out of the question now; his belly had grown and he resisted any vigorous sport.
When Emma suggested a night at the cinema, he looked at her with weary eyes and said, What are you dragging me to? I just want a quiet weekend, a proper sleep. Go with your friends.
In the early days of our marriage James used to go camping with his mates. They had a tightknit group that loved kayaking rapid rivers, climbing, and playing folk music on the guitar. Emma never joined work, pregnancy, caring for our little boy kept her at home.
Dont give him the night off, warned my mother. Hell find someone with the same interests.
An affair doesnt need a trek, you can meet someone right here. I trust James, Emma replied, believing his word and waiting for his camping stories.
Eventually the campleader settled down, had a family, and the outings stopped.
One lazy Sunday Emma plunked herself on the sofa with a photo album. At first she flipped through reluctantly, but soon she became absorbed, watching James stare at the pictures and reminisce.
Would you like to relive the old days, feel that youthful spark again? she asked.
No, and with whom? Everyones busy, the grandkids are here.
Just with me. Ive never been on your trips. Show some initiative, call your old mates, maybe some will join.
James scoffed, We were reckless youngsters, now were?
Youve become too sensible, Emma replied with a sarcastic smile. Then lets go to the theatre this weekend, have a proper cultural night, she said, slamming the album shut and stirring up a cloud of dust.
James thought about it. Later, over dinner, he said, I talked to a friend; he can map out a route, we still have some old tents. We could rent a kayak from the sports centre. Emma saw his eyes light up, and that made her happy.
He warned, Youre a beginner, itll be tough. The river has rapids, mosquitoes, youll sleep on the ground in sleeping bags, no shower, no proper loo, youll have to squat behind a bush. Youll probably want to go home on the first day.
I wont quit, Emma promised.
Fine then, James said, eyeing her manicured nails, fluffy house slippers, and a robe with cartoon birds. Youll need proper gear, not heels.
They shopped together; he wouldnt let her go. I know youll buy swimsuits and dresses, but for a trek you need warm clothes and sturdy boots.
Emma followed his lead, eager to prepare. Soon the backpacks were packed.
Put it on, lets see your preparation, James ordered.
She hoisted the heavy pack, groaning as it pressed down, realizing shed also have to trudge over uneven ground, through gullies and brambles.
Take it off, he said. Lets see what youre carrying.
She relieved herself of the weight, only to watch James pull out hair curlers, a makeup case, a hair dryer, numerous jars of cream, shampoo, and a heap of weekendwear suitable for the garden but useless on a mountain path.
Those will get you swarmed by mosquitoes, he quipped. Maybe youd rather stay at home? He looked at her with pity.
Emma, flustered, covered her head with her hands.
James then stripped the bag of everything superfluous, leaving only the essentials. The pack became much lighter.
I can manage, Emma declared, feeling a surge of confidence.
She remembered trying to pull James into the theatre, into art, insisting on her interests, and he had eventually gone along. As his partner, she felt she ought to stand by him through rough and smooth.
The closer they got to departure, the more doubts crept in. At the train station they waited for the carriage that would take them far from the comforts of civilisation. Along with us were three other men and a woman.
Are your other friends divorced? Emma asked quietly.
No, their wives are with the grandchildren.
The train ride was lively; the men swapped funny anecdotes, James dusted off an old guitar from the loft and hummed a tune. Emma decided that if the journey continued like this, she could truly make the most of it.
When they finally alighted a few miles from the station, Emmas back ached from the pack, her legs trembled, sweat soaked her face. She felt ashamed to complain while the men lugged sleeping bags, tents, and a deflated inflatable boat.
The countryside was beautiful, but Emma focused only on not tripping, not falling, not breaking a bone. When they finally reached the river, she just wanted to lie on the grass and do nothing. The men quickly built a fire, pitched their tents as if they hadnt tired at all.
Give it time, encouraged Tanya, a fellow campers wife. Lets fetch water, we need to cook dinner.
Tears welled up she longed for a hot shower and a soft bed.
Then the night settled in. James played the guitar by the fire, his voice unexpectedly clear and warm. Emma forgot how handsome his voice sounded. In that moment he seemed a different man lively, full of life. She saw again the James she had fallen for.
The next day youll try to run away? he teased, eyeing the blisters on her hands from the river trek.
No, she answered firmly.
Approaching the rapids, Emma hesitated. The water roared, jagged stones jutted out. She wanted to suggest staying on the bank, but seeing Jamess mischievous grin, she kept quiet, clinging to the rafts side, forgetting the oars, fearing a plunge into the icy water.
When the rapids passed, she exhaled in relief and shouted with joy louder than anyone else.
They returned home a week later, exhausted yet elated, their minds full of fresh memories. Emma realised she would miss the new friends, the songs around the fire, the open air and quiet.
After a shower and a hearty dinner, they sat together by the laptop, scrolling through photos, teasing each other. They hadnt done that in ages. The trek had drawn them closer; they now shared a common passion again. They fell asleep in each others arms, just like in their youth.
Next year well do another trek? Emma whispered, pulling close to his warm side.
You liked it, did you? James laughed. Its not a night at the West End or a fancy restaurant. Its real life.
Ill be better prepared now, no shame on you, she promised.
Never was there any shame. For a rookie you were brilliant. I didnt expect it. You surprised me, he replied.
Emma blushed at the praise.
When their son called, she chattered nonstop about the adventure.
Sounds like a wild life over there, I thought youd be bored, missing each other.
Were missing you, how are things with you? Emma asked.
Were waiting for a baby a son or a daughter, he said, delighted.
Back at work after the holiday, Emma returned with bright eyes and a beaded friendship bracelet on her wrist.
Did you spend the summer down south? You dont look tanned, a colleague remarked, pointing at the bracelet.
Its a talisman. A shaman gave it to me, Emma replied.
So, if you want to revive the spark in a long marriage, dont stay cooped up at home share your partners interests. It may not suit everyone, but theres always something else to try. As some writer once said, Never regret the effort you put into saving love. And sometimes, the greatest adventures arent found in far-off places, but in choosing each other, again and again, in ways both small and bold. Emma kept the bracelet not as a charm, but as a reminderof rushing water, shared silence under starlit skies, and the quiet joy of a love rekindled not by grand gestures, but by showing up, showing effort, and letting go of the need to be comfortable. James still teased her about the hair dryer in the backpack, but each time he did, they both smiled, knowing it was the beginning of something new, built from the old.
