**Diary Entry 16th March**
I found something in my daughters phone today, and suddenly, everything made sense.
*»I cant keep doing this! Every evening, the same thing!»* I slammed the plates into the sink. *»He comes home silent, eats in silence, then disappears into his room for hours. Its like living with a stranger!»*
*»Mum, calm down,»* Emily said, setting her phone aside. *»Dads just going through a rough patch at work. You know how it is.»*
*»A rough patch?»* I threw my hands up. *»This patch has lasted three months! Before, James would always make time to talkto tell me what was going on. Now? Theres a wall between us. And those strange phone calls he takes in whispers…»*
Emily shifted in her seat, her gaze flickering to her phone on the table.
*»Youre overreacting, Mum. Hes just tired.»*
*»Tired,»* I echoed. *»He wasnt too tired before. Twenty-five years together, and he always had energy for us. Now…»* I trailed off, scrubbing an already-clean pot with unnecessary force. Emily sighed, grabbed her phone, and retreated to her room. I watched her go, unease tightening in my chest.
Something was wrong in our familysomething I couldnt name. James, always so warm and present, had become distant, evasive. He worked late, avoided conversations, and worst of all, stopped meeting my eyes. As if he was hiding something.
*Another woman?* The thought haunted me, but I dismissed it. Not James. Never. Then what?
Later, the front door clicked openJames was home.
*»Evening,»* he muttered, toeing off his shoes. *»Im late.»*
*»As usual,»* I said, forcing a smile. *»Hungry?»*
*»Not really.»* He avoided my gaze. *»Emily in?»*
*»Upstairs.»* I hesitated. *»James can we talk?»*
*»About what?»* His eyes finally met mineexhausted. And something else. Fear?
*»Us. Whatevers happening. Youve shut me out.»*
*»Claire, not tonight.»* He squeezed my shoulder lightly. *»Im knackered.»*
Without waiting for a reply, he headed to Emilys room, knocked, and slipped inside. I stood frozen in the hallway, dread pooling in my stomach. What had happened to my husband? To our family?
That night, sleep wouldnt come. James lay beside me, turned away, his breathing steady but too controlled. He wasnt sleeping. I wanted to reach out, to demand, *»Whats going on?»* But I didnt. I was afraid of the answer.
The next morning, after he left for work, I busied myself with cleaning. Emily was still asleeplate lectures at uni. Dusting, vacuuming, moppinganything to fill the hollow ache inside. In her room, I straightened the bed, tidied her desk, and spotted her forgotten phone.
*»Should charge it,»* I thought. No passcodeEmily always said she had nothing to hide. As I plugged it in, the screen lit up. An open chat with her father.
I shouldnt have looked. I *knew* I shouldnt. But the message on the screen hooked me: *»Dad, you have to tell Mum. She deserves to know.»*
My heart stuttered. *Know what?*
*»Put it down,»* I ordered myself. But my fingers moved on their own, scrolling up.
**James:** *»Em, I cant tell her. Shes only just recovered from your grans stroke.»*
**Emily:** *»But this is different! The doctors said the odds are good!»*
**James:** *»Doesnt matter. Chemo, surgeryshed freak out.»*
My hands went numb. *Chemo? Surgery?*
**Emily:** *»Shes not blind, Dad. She sees youve changed. She asked me yesterday if you were having an affair.»*
**James:** *»Dont be daft. Tell her its just work stress. I need time. At least till the biopsy results.»*
*Biopsy.* I sank onto Emilys bed, my vision swimming. James was ill. And hed hidden it.
Scrolling further, I found messages from three months ago:
**James:** *»Em, I need your help. Dont tell Mum.»*
**Emily:** *»Whats wrong?»*
**James:** *»Remember my stomach pains? Got the tests back. Bad news. Theyre sending me to oncology.»*
I squeezed my eyes shut. Grans stroke six months ago had shattered meId lost a stone from stress, barely slept. James had been my rock. And now he was suffering alone to spare me.
The door creaked. Emily stood there, frowning. *»Mum? Whatre you doing?»*
*»Tidying,»* I said hastily, but it was too late. She saw the open chat.
*»You read my texts?»* Her voice wasnt angryjust scared.
*»Emily,»* I whispered. *»Whats wrong with your dad?»*
She bit her lip, then sighed. *»Hell kill me.»*
*»Please.»* I took her hand.
And she told me. Three months ago, the pains started. The tests. The suspicion of pancreatic cancer.
*»He didnt want to worry you,»* she murmured. *»After Gran He said hed wait for the biopsy. Then it got harder to say anything.»*
*»He was *scared*?»* I shook my head. James had never feared anything.
*»Scared of hurting you,»* Emily said. *»He saw how Grans illness wrecked you. Didnt want that again. The biopsys tomorrow.»*
*»Tomorrow.»* My voice was flat. *»And he was going alone?»*
*»I promised Id go.»*
I stood, walking to the window. Outside, life went onsunshine, blossoming trees, people rushing past. A normal day. Except mine had just cracked apart.
*»Mum are you furious?»* Emily asked softly.
*»At who? You? For keeping his secret? Or him? For not trusting me?»*
*»Both, maybe.»*
*»You shouldve told me.»*
*»I know.»*
*»Wheres the biopsy? What time?»*
*»The Royal Marsden. Ten.»*
I nodded. *»Right. Lets make supper. Hell be hungry tonight.»*
When James came home, the table was set, the air rich with the scent of roast beefhis favourite.
*»Whats the occasion?»* he asked warily.
*»No occasion,»* I said lightly. *»Just fancied treating my husband.»*
His eyes darted to Emily, who studiously avoided his gaze.
*»Whats happened?»* he asked, sitting slowly.
*»Nothing,»* I said, pouring wine. *»Just realised something important today.»*
*»Oh?»* He took a sip, watching me.
*»That weve been together too long for secrets.»* I held his gaze. *»Im coming with you to the Marsden tomorrow.»*
His glass froze mid-air. *»You»* He paled, wine sloshing onto the tablecloth. *»Emily?»*
*»I didnt tell her!»* Emily raised her hands. *»Mum saw our texts when she was cleaning.»*
*»Dont blame her,»* I said, touching Jamess arm. *»I shouldnt have looked.»*
*»I wanted to protect you,»* he whispered. *»After your mums stroke»*
*»You think I wasnt suffering, watching you pull away? Not knowing why?»* My voice broke. *»I was terrified, James.»*
*»Im sorry.»* He gripped my hand. *»I thought it was better this way.»*
*»Better is facing it together,»* I said firmly. *»Like everything else.»*
*»Youve no idea how bloody relieved I am,»* he admitted hoarsely. *»Lying, hiding meds Im so tired.»*
*»No more,»* I said, cupping his face. *»Whatever the biopsy shows, well handle it. Together.»*
Emily sniffled.
*»Look, weve made the kid cry,»* James joked weakly.
*»Its relief,»* Emily said, wiping her eyes. *»I couldnt stand lying, Dad.»*
*»Sorry, love.»* He looked sheepish. *»Shouldnt have put that on you.»*
*»Enough apologies,»* I said. *»Lets eat. Big day tomorrow.»*
Dinner was the first proper meal wed shared in months. We talked, laughedalmost like before. Only when Emily went upstairs did I ask the question burning inside.
*»Why, James? Why try to face it alone?»*
He stared out the window. *»Stupid pride, I suppose. Didnt want to seem weak. Not after being your rock with your mum.»*
*»You *are* my rock,»* I said, holding him. *»And rocks need support too. Thats what familys for.»*
He hugged me tightly. *»Ive been such an idiot. Wasted so much time.»*
*»Doesnt matter now,»* I whispered. *»Well get through this.»*
The next day, we went to the hospital together. The biopsy took hours. Then the agonising wait for results.
Finally, the consultant smiled. *»Benign tumour. Well remove it, no chemo needed.»*
I clutched Jamess hand, tears spilling over. He closed his eyes, relief washing over his face.
*»Thank you,»* I managed.
*»Thank *him*,»* the doctor said. *»If hed waited six more months, wed be having a very different conversation.»*
Outside, James leaned against the wall, covering his face. His shoulders shook.
*»James,»* I murmured, holding him.
*»Im sorry,»* he choked out. *»For shutting you out.»*
*»Its over now,»* I said, brushing away his tears. *»Were okay.»*
Emily rushed over. *»Well?»*
*»All clear,»* I said, hugging her. *»Just surgery, and Dads good as new.»*
*»Thank God,»* she breathed.
James pulled us both close. And I thoughtsometimes, you have to invade someones privacy to save what matters most. Even if its not quite right.
