Are you going to her again? Emily drills her husband with a fixed stare. James keeps pulling his shoes tight.
Kids, Em. The kids, not her, James mutters, tying his laces. How long do we have to keep going over this? He stands, grabs his jacket from the coat rack, and heads for the door without waiting for an answer. The lock clicks and Emily is left alone.
A few seconds pass before Emily can even lift herself off the sofa. Her legs feel as heavy as lead; she collapses onto the couch in the living room and flicks on a mindless sitcom, the background chatter a flimsy shield against her thoughts.
They have been together three years, two of those married. She knew from the start divorce, two children, a boy and a girl. James mentioned them on their third date. Emily smiled then, saying it wasnt a problem, that she understood, that kids werent an obstacle.
Now those words sound naïve and foolish.
She covers her eyes with her hand, takes a deep breath, and fights back tears that are becoming harder to hold in. It feels as if an invisible slab presses on her chest.
Soon it becomes unbearable. Twice a week, reliably on Tuesdays and Saturdays, James disappears to his exwifes house, claiming hes visiting the children. He stays for dinner, spends time with Sarah, the former wife. Emily knows its foolish, she trusts James or at least tries to convince herself she does but a vague dread gnaws at her, making her feel sick.
When James leaves, Emily is alone in the flat. She berates herself for not standing her ground, for giving in to his promises, for staying silent when she should have shouted.
She snatches her phone and texts a friend. Hes there again.
The phone buzzes a call from Laura.
Hello? Emily answers, trying not to let her voice shake.
Emily, what are you doing? How long can you put up with this? Hes cheating you, obviously. Laura doesnt beat around the bush.
No, Laura, you dont get it Emily starts, but Laura cuts her off. I get it perfectly. Hes at Sarahs twice a week, stays until nightfall, and youre supposed to believe theyre just playing Legos with the kids?
Emily runs a hand over her face. She knows Laura is right, but admitting it out loud would mean admitting her marriage is a farce.
He says theres nothing between them, that hes only there for the kids, Emily whispers.
God, youre so naïve, Laura sighs. Open your eyes, Emily. A decent bloke doesnt spend half an evening at his exs. Hed pick up the kids, take them for a walk, and bring them back. Your man is in her kitchen, eating her stew, probably holding her hand when the children arent looking.
Laura, enough, Emily whispers, squeezing the phone tighter.
Enough? Fine. Just remember what I said. Youll still cling to him, and when that happens, dont say I didnt warn you.
The call ends. Emily stares at the ceiling while someone on TV laughs loudly, but she feels detached.
James returns close to midnight. Emily hears him strip in the hallway, hears the water run in the bathroom. He lies down beside her and a whiff of foreign perfume, sweet and cloying, hits her.
She doesnt ask why hes late; she has no energy. James, settling in, says, Sorry Im late. Lily needed a craft for nursery, so I helped her. She made a pinecone cow it looks hilarious.
Emily nods in the darkness, though he cant see her.
This pattern repeats for months: Tuesday, Saturday, departure, return, the scent of someone elses cologne, excuses.
Then James changes. He becomes more sullen, withdrawn, spending whole evenings staring at his phone, eyebrows knit. Emily asks whats wrong; he brushes her off, mutters something incomprehensible and retreats to another room.
A couple of weeks later he drops a bombshell.
Listen, were going on a double date this Friday.
Emily arches an eyebrow in surprise.
With who?
With Sarah and her new boyfriend.
A weight lifts off Emilys shoulders. So Sarah has someone? So James isnt with his ex? He isnt cheating? All her fears were for nothing?
A smile spreads across Emilys face. She turns to James, wraps her arms around his neck, and says, Sure, lets go.
Friday arrives quickly. Emily buys a new dress a lightblue, formfitting sheath wanting to look her best, to show Sarah shes worthy of James, that shes the right choice.
They meet at a cosy café on the other side of town, with wooden tables and soft lighting. Sarah is already there with a man in his forties, tall, athletic, smiling politely.
Hi, Sarah stands, extending a hand. Emily, this is Max.
Max nods, shaking Jamess hand. They sit down. Emily feels optimistic; the evening should be simple, a chance to chat and then part ways.
Instead, the double date turns nightmarish.
All evening James acts as if hes trying to win Sarah back. He constantly interrupts Max, flaunting how well he knows Sarah.
When Max suggests ordering a spicy pepper pizza, James jumps in. Sarah doesnt like spicy.
I know, Max replies calmly. We already talked about it. You cut me off before I could say its for us. Lets get something else for Sarah.
James doesnt stop.
Remember, Sarah, how we took the kids to the seaside? he continues, ignoring Max. Mick brought a jellyfish ashore and thought it was a toy.
Sarah nods, irritation flickering across her face.
That was ages ago, she says, trying to change the subject.
But James keeps going, rattling off story after story about the children, the stroller they chose, sleepless nights when their son had colic.
Emily sits silent, gripping her glass of water. Every word James utters pierces her. She watches Sarahs patience wear thin, sees Sarah trying to halt James with a glance, steering the conversation elsewhere, but James seems oblivious.
Emily finally realises. James hasnt let go of his ex. He clings to the past, to the children, to shared memories. She Emily is a spare part, a temporary replacement.
Her phone rings. Its a banks automated voice, but Emily pretends shes talking to her mother about an urgent matter.
Excuse me, I have to go. Its important, she says, ending the call.
No one stops her. James doesnt even turn. Emily darts out of the café, flags a taxi, and heads home.
Back in her flat she pulls out a large suitcase and starts packing. She can no longer endure Jamess behaviour.
James storms in an hour later, angry, his face dark. He sees the suitcase at her feet.
Whats happening? he demands.
Emily meets his gaze. Her eyes are dry; the tears have dried between sweaters and jeans.
Im leaving, she says simply.
What? Where? James snaps.
Anywhere but here, Emily replies, slipping on her coat. Tonights outing showed me the truth. You still love Sarah, or at least you cant let her go. I dont know whats worse.
What are you talking about? James starts, but Emily raises a hand, cutting him off.
Enough. Dont lie. I saw how you behaved. You tried to claim her from Max all night, acting as if shes still yours. I was just an extra.
James stays silent.
I wont be a backup, James, Emily continues, gripping the suitcase handle. Im out.
Emily, wait, he pleads.
No, she shakes her head. I love you, but that love will burn out if I stay. Ill keep at least some dignity.
She walks out the door. James watches her go, saying nothing, offering no protest, no plea for her to stay.
Emily hails another taxi and heads to her parents house. In the back seat she watches the nightlit city pass by, thinking of only one thing: at last, she is free.
