I chose the job, not you.
You you I cant believe my ears! It just wont sink in! Your damned job, the endless urgent calls, the constant business trips! Emma smashed her coffee mug onto the desk, and it flew into the wall, splashing the halfdrunk brew everywhere. The shattered pieces rained down like confetti.
Stop being dramatic, love, behave like a grownup! Simon kept his voice steady, which irritated me even more. My insides were boiling, and he stood there as solid as a statue. I cant cancel this trip, you have to understand. Its tied to my promotion.
Promotion?! I choked on my anger. Your promotion always trumps us! Remember you missed Kates graduation, didnt even ring me on my anniversary after I reminded you a week in advance! And now this! Micks operation is in two days, and youre being whisked off to Manchester!
To London, Simon blurted out before catching himself.
Even to the Moon! Emma flailed her arms like a windmill. You wont be there when our son goes under anaesthetic! When hes terrified, when Im shaking against the wall! All because of some pointless piece of paper with your signature!
Simon let out a sigh, ran a hand across his face. Dark circles under his eyes, a scruffy beard, but his stare stayed stubborn as ever.
Its a ridiculous contract Its a chance to become finance director, you know? Ive been working towards that for twenty years, at least, my whole career. Micks operation is routine, why are you shaking? Its just his tonsils, not a brain tumour.
Yeah, right! What if something goes wrong? Emma dug her nails into her palm. What will we do then?
Nothing will happen, he waved it off. Ive spoken to the surgeon myself.
And if it does? she went fullsteam, talking about an ultrasound.
Sit down! he shrugged his shoulders. If anything happens, Ill hop on the next flight. Remember when Kate needed an appendix operation? You showed up eight hours late, after the doctors had gone home, barely making it down the stairs.
I remember! she snarled, a twisted smile on her face. You always turn up after the dramas over. Im fed up, Simon.
Simon shook his head.
Im not a rubber band, Emma. I cant snap in half. Im working my fingers to the bone so you all have what you need. Didnt you hear me whine about the new flat? Lets move, the neighbours are noisy, the yard is filthy, the tube is far
Wed be better off in a council house! she snapped. At least with a decent husband and father who actually sees his kids sometimes, not just Sunday afternoons.
Simon plonked himself onto a chair, his ninety kilos collapsing onto it.
Listen, we agreed, didnt we? Youre at home with the kids, the house, the cosy life. Im grinding at work, bringing money in. What changed? When did it become a problem?
Emma opened her mouth to fire back, but the front door burst open. Childrens voices shouted from the hallway, backpacks thumped onto the floor.
Fine, well talk later, she muttered, shoving a fake smile on as she slipped out of the kitchen, the smile so forced it made her cheeks ache.
Simon opened his laptop. He still had to finish the presentation before nightfall, but his mind was a fog with no useful thoughts.
That evening, after the children were asleep, Emma sat at the kitchen table scrolling through her phone, eyes empty. Twentytwo years of marriage felt like a spreadsheet: income, expenses, assets, liabilities. When did it all get so complicated?
Simon walked in, sat opposite her without a word.
Want a coffee? Emma asked, not looking up.
Yes, he replied. Emma, we need to talk.
About what? she flicked the kettle switch. Its obvious. Youre leaving in two days. Mick and I will go to the hospital alone.
Listen, Simon placed his hands on her shoulders gently. I know its hard, but this is vital for me.
More important than us? Emma turned, and in her eyes Simon saw not anger but exhaustion and disappointment.
Everything I do is for you, he whispered. Everything I do is for us.
No, Simon, Emma shook her head. Its all for you. For your ego, for your career. Were just a footnote now.
Thats not true, he tried to protest.
It is. When Mick mentioned his operation, he said, Good thing its during dads trip, otherwise hed stress about work. Hes eleven and already adjusting his schedule to yours.
Simon stood rooted, speechless.
And Katie asked yesterday if youd come to her university graduation next year. Not because she wants to see you, but because shes scared youll be busy with important things again.
Ill try to make it, Simon mumbled.
Try, Emma echoed. Always try. Remember when I realised youd chosen work over me? The miscarriage ten years ago? You flew back two days after I was discharged.
I had a meeting in Shanghai, Simon started.
Exactly, Emma said. You had a meeting. I lost a child and was alone.
She turned to the coffee grinder, measured out beans methodically.
You never told me, Simon said quietly.
What would that change? Emma shrugged. Youd apologise, promise it wont happen, then do the same thing again.
Simon pressed his fingers to his nose.
Maybe you should see a counsellor, he suggested.
Of course, Emma smirked. The problem is me, isnt it? Not that youve turned into a cashflow machine, but that Im not positive enough about it?
Thats not what I meant, Simon shook his head. Youre just dramatising.
Dramatise? Emma snapped. When was the last time you actually attended a parentteacher meeting? Do you even know who Micks form teacher is? What thesis is Kate working on?
Simon stayed silent.
See, thats the point, Emma placed a mug of coffee before him and sat down. Youve missed our lives, Simon. And you keep missing them.
Simon took a sip, grimacing at the bitternessjust like every time Emma was upset.
I could take a summer holiday, he offered. We could go somewhere as a family.
Kates off to Brighton with friends, Emma reminded. And Micks signed up for a football camp.
You could have told me before you made plans! For the first time that night, irritation slipped into Simons voice.
I warned you twice. You said, Fine, plan it, well see later. We planned.
Simon rubbed his eyes.
Sorry, I dont remember.
You know what scares me most? Emma looked over his shoulder. That Im starting to think life is easier without you. When youre home I keep hoping youll be there in spirit, not just in body. And Im always let down.
What do you want from me? Simon asked. To give up the promotion? To quit?
I want our children to have a father, not just a paycheque supplier. I want a husband, not a flatmate who only sleeps over now and then.
I cant abandon my career at fifty, Simon said firmly. Its too late to start over.
No one asked you to quit. Just find balance.
Im trying! he raised his voice, then lowered it when he heard the children breathing. I really am trying, Emma. But you have to understand the demands of my role
In your role, with your salary, with your responsibilities, Emma cut in. I know that song by heart. The kids are growing, and you dont see them. I dont either.
Thats unfair, Simon shook his head. Ive always tried to spend weekends with the family.
Only when there wasnt urgent work, Emma replied. Which was about once a month.
Silence fell. Outside, traffic rumbled, the house was filled only with the ticking clock and the hum of the fridge.
I cant cancel the trip, Simon finally said. But Ill ask to move it a day later so I can take Mick to the hospital.
Youve already bought tickets, Emma reminded.
Ill change them, he declared. Ill call every hour until they tell me the operation went well.
Emma gave a wry smile.
Think thatll fix everything?
No, Simon admitted. But its a start. I dont want to lose you, Emma. I really dont.
The thing is, youve already almost lost us, she whispered. I dont know if it can be repaired.
In the hospital corridor, voices echoed and feet pounded. Emma sat on a hard chair outside the operating theatre, nervously twisting her bag strap. Mick had been in for over an hour, though the surgeon promised a fortyminute procedure.
Katie sat nearby, glued to her phone, but Emma saw her glance anxiously at the doors every now and then.
Wheres dad? Katie asked, not looking away from the screen.
Hes on a business trip, love.
He said hed call.
Emma checked her watch.
He must be in a meeting, probably forgot.
Typical, Katie muttered.
Emma wanted to answer, but the doors swung open and a surgeon in a green mask emerged, his chin bandaged.
All went well, he said, smiling. The boys in recovery, should move to a ward soon. You can visit in an hour.
Thank you, doctor, Emma felt the tension lift, tears of relief gathering.
Katie squeezed her mothers hand.
We should call dad, she said.
Right, Emma grabbed her phone, only to hear her voicemail. Hes not answering. Ill text him.
She typed: Operation successful. Micks in recovery, doctor says all is fine.
No reply came after five minutes, nor after half an hour as they sipped tea and sandwiches in the lounge.
Mum, are you and dad getting a divorce? Katie asked suddenly, staring at her cuppa.
Where did that come from?
Youre always fighting, you think we dont hear, Katie shrugged. And dads never home. Youre always sad when he leaves.
Emma looked at her daughter, wondering when shed become so observant.
Were going through a rough patch, Emma said gently. That doesnt mean we dont love each other.
Vicky from next door said the same, Katie added. Then her parents split up.
Emma didnt know what to say. Instead she asked,
How does that make you feel?
I dont know. Itd be sad if dad left, but hes hardly ever around anyway, so maybe not much would change.
No ones going anywhere, Emma said firmly, though she wasnt convinced.
The phone buzzed: a text from Simon, Sorry, was in a meeting. Hows Mick? When can we visit?
He texted? Katie asked, and Emma nodded. What did he say?
He asked about Mick, Emma replied, typing back, You can visit in thirty minutes. Video call?
Sure, came the quick reply. As soon as Im free.
Emma put the phone down and sighed.
Hes busy, isnt he? Katie wondered.
Hell call back when he can, Emma said. You know dad.
I do, Katie said quietly. Mum, remember our trip to Blackpool when I was nine and Mick was three?
Of course, Emma smiled. You ate ice cream every day and swam until you were blueeyed.
Dad was with us all week, Katie continued. We went to the aquarium, rode a boat, even hiked. Why cant that happen now?
I dont know, love, Emma answered honestly. Things have changed.
For the worse, Katie sighed. Dads always busy now.
Emma wanted to argue that Simon loved them and was trying his best, but Katie was right. Everything really had gotten worse.
When Emma returned home, leaving Katie to keep watch over her brother, the flat was quiet. She kicked off her shoes, set her bag on the nightstand, and drifted into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water and stared out the window.
The phone rang, and she jumped. The display read Simon.
Hello?
Hey, love, hows Mick?
Hes fine, a little fever, but the doctor says its normal. Katies staying with him.
Good he has a caring sister, Simon said. At least someones looking after him.
Yes, Emma agreed. At least someones there.
A pause hung between them.
Emma, you know Id be there if I could, Simon began. But this deal
I understand, Emma cut him off. No need to explain.
You do need to, Simon insisted. You think I chose work over you. Thats not true.
Then how? Emma asked. Explain.
I Simon stammered. I dont know how to put it. It just happened. Im used to working long hours, and its become part of who I am. I dont know any other way.
And the family?
Youre everything to me, Simon said softly. Somewhere along the road I lost my balance. I spent too much time on the job, too little with you. I get that, Emma. I want to fix it.
How? she pressed. What are you proposing?
Ive spoken to senior management, Simon replied. If I get the promotion, Ill be able to delegate more, free up time. More free time.
If, Emma echoed. Always if. What if it doesnt happen?
Then Ill consider changing jobs, he said firmly. Or cutting my hours. Youre right, Ive missed too much. I dont want to miss any more.
Emma stayed quiet. Shed heard such promises too often to trust them outright.
I love you, Simon said. I love the kids. I want us to be a family, not just people sharing a roof.
I want that too, Emma replied. I just dont know if its possible.
Lets at least try, Simon suggested. I promise Ill try, for real.
Emma looked at the family photo on the table: the four of them on a seaside promenade, laughing, carefree. That was five years ago, a different life.
Alright, she finally said. Lets try.
Thanks, Simon exhaled with relief. Ill call Mick before I go to bed. And Ill fly back as soon as the paperworks done.
Good, Emma nodded, though he couldnt see her. Ill tell Mick.
After hanging up, Emma sat at the kitchen table, staring at the photograph. Would they make it? Could Simon really change, or would things revert to the old rhythmhim at work, her with the children, endless waiting for a better day?
Mick drew a picture of an aircraftbig, silver, with blue wings and black windows.
Look, thats dads plane, he said, showing it to Emma. Hell fly back on that.
Lovely, Emma smiled. Hows your throat?
A bit sore, Mick admitted. The doctor said I can have ice cream for treatment.
Treatment, huh? Emma winked. Then lets pop over to the café for some. Just dont tell dad Im spoiling you.
I wont, Mick promised. Will dad really come?
Of course he will, Emma assured. He promised.
You know, Mick said thoughtfully, Im actually glad I had the operation. It means dad will be with us.
Emma patted his head, feeling a lump form in her throat.
Yes, love, she said. Dad will be with us.
She didnt know whether Simon would keep his word. She didnt know if their family could ever be what it once was. But for the first time in ages she felt a flicker of hope.
Maybe people can change. Maybe work and family can coexist without one swallowing the other.
Maybe this time hell choose them over his job.
Mick added a tiny figure to the plane.
Thats dad, waving at us.
Emma grinned.
Yes, thats dad. Hes on his way home.
