Emily exhaled heavily as she stepped out of the office block. The day had been relentlessone demand after another. Did the reports really need finishing today? Tomorrow wouldve been fine. Stressed and exhausted, she decided to stop by her usual café, picturing the relief of a Caesar salad and a steaming cup of tea. For a moment, life might feel lighter.
The café was nearly deserted when she walked in. Just as she moved toward her regular table, she spotted a familiar figure. Her husband, James. And he wasnt alone. A glamorous woman sat across from him, her laughter ringing too brightly.
Emilys breath hitched, her body turning to ice. The woman looked like shed walked straight out of a high-end boutiqueblonde, polished, dripping in designer jewellery. Her lips curved in a practised smile as she brushed her fingers against Jamess wrist. He leaned in, murmuring something that made her toss her hair and giggle.
A storm of anger and hurt raged inside Emily. *So this is how it is?* Her first instinct was to march over, slam her hands on the table, and demand answers. But she bit back the impulse. No. That would be too easy.
She retreated, mind racing. If he wanted to play games, shed give him one he wouldnt forget.
Choosing a table in the far corner, still within sight of them, she ordered her salad and tea but barely touched them. With trembling fingers, she dialled Jamess number. His phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it, then silenced it without hesitation. Emilys lips curled into a cold smile. *Too busy to answer your wife, are you?*
She studied them, noting every detailthe way he whispered something in the womans ear, the way she covered her mouth with a manicured hand, the flash of a diamond the size of a pebble on her finger.
Emilys chest ached. She forced herself to look away, gripping the edge of the table. *Stay calm. Dont fall apart now.*
Fragments of their past flickered through her mindtheir first clumsy date, whispered promises, the way hed proposed on a rainy London afternoon. Had it all been a lie? Was this who he really was? Jaw clenched, she kept watching. Maybe there was an explanation. Maybe she was just a colleague. A very touchy, overdressed colleague.
Then a man walked past her tabletall, broad-shouldered, with a rugged charm that couldve landed him in a cologne advert. An idea struck. She raised her hand slightly.
“Excuse me,” she called. He paused, turning with a questioning look.
“Yes?”
“Listen, this might sound mad,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “but I need a favour. A little performance. You see that man over there? Thats my husband. And unless Im mistaken, hes having anything but a business lunch.”
The mans eyes flicked toward James, then back to her. After a moment, he smirked.
“Alright. Lets give him a show.” He slid into the seat opposite her.
“Im Emily,” she said.
“Oliver,” he replied.
Emily kept her expression smooth, though her pulse hammered. She glanced toward James. *Good.* Hed noticed. Confusion flickered across his face before he turned back to the blonde, but his fingers tapped restlessly against the table now.
Emily straightened, leaning toward Oliver as if sharing a secret. He played along flawlesslynodding, laughing at the right moments. Another glance at James. His jaw was tight. The blonde said something, but his reply was distracted.
Time to turn the screw.
Emily reached for Olivers hand. He curled his fingers around hers, grinning. Jamess head snapped up, his eyes darkening. The blonde frowned as he muttered something to her, and her smile vanished.
“Youre brilliant at this,” Emily murmured.
“Look at him,” Oliver chuckled under his breath. “Hes sweating. Reckon hes had enough?”
“Lets walk past them,” Emily suggested. “See how he reacts.”
Oliver stood, offering his arm. Emily took it, and they strolled toward the exit, pausing by Jamess table. With icy sweetness, she smiled.
“Oh, James! Fancy seeing you here. And whos your friend?”
James froze. The blondes eyes narrowed.
“This is” he stammered, “just a colleague.”
“A *colleague*?” Emily arched a brow. “Funny, I thought you were in meetings all day.”
James shot to his feet. “Emily, what the hell is this? Who is *he*?”
“Does it matter?” she said coolly. “Youre the one having cosy lunches while lying to me. Maybe she doesnt know youre married?”
The blondes face hardened.
“Youre *married*?” she hissed. Without another word, she snatched her bag and stormed out.
James whirled on Emily. “Happy now? She was a *client*. A major deal depended on her. This was *business*not whatever twisted game youre playing!”
“And him?” James jerked his chin toward Oliver.
“You get to flirt, but I dont?” Emily crossed her arms.
“So you *are* cheating?” Jamess voice was dangerously low.
“Maybe.” She tilted her chin up, relishing the hurt in his eyes.
“Right. Ill leave you to it, then,” Oliver muttered, making a swift exit.
James threw a handful of notes onto the table. “Brilliant, Em. Just brilliant.” He strode out, leaving Emily trembling.
Her hands shook as she called a coworker, begging them to cover her shift. She couldnt face the office now. When she got home, James was on the sofa, his expression drained.
“Emily,” he said hoarsely. “Tell me the truth. Did you?”
“No.” She sank beside him. “I made it up. I saw you with her and just… lost it.”
James dragged a hand through his hair. “Christ, this is a mess. I was an idiot. I shouldve told you. That meeting was purely professionalshe was insufferable, but the deal mattered. I swear, nothing happened.”
Emily stayed silent, then rested her head against his shoulder. Anger still simmered, but relief crept in too.
“Promise me,” she whispered. “No more secrets.”
“I promise.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Im sorry, love.”
He pulled her close, and the weight of the day began to ease. The memory of the blonde still stung, but the regret in Jamess voice was real. For now, that was enough.
