**Diary Entry 6th March**
“Where did you get my earrings?” asked my wife, spotting them in her friends holiday photo.
“Emily, come look at these photos Hannah sent from her trip!” I called from the kitchen, stirring sugar into my tea. “Shes tanned like a biscuit!”
Emily wiped her hands on her apron and joined me, adjusting her dressing gown as she sat. “Where were theySpain?”
“Egypt,” I corrected, flipping through the snaps. “Heres the beach, this ones at a restaurant Oh, this ones lovelythey went on a tour.”
She studied them quietly. Hannah had always been the life of the party, even back in school. Theyd lost touch after uni, then bumped into each other at the GPs surgery years later.
“Thats a nice one,” I said, stopping at a shot of Hannah grinning at a café table.
Emily froze. In her ears gleamed familiar earringstiny gold roses with pearls. The ones Id given her for our anniversary.
“Where did she get *my* earrings?” Her voice was thin.
“What? Theyre just similar”
“No. *Exactly* the same. Lookthis scratch on the left rose. I caught it on the wardrobe door.”
I gulped my tea. She marched to the bedroom, rummaged through her jewellery box, then the bathroom. Nothing.
“Tom!” she called.
“What now?”
“Theyre *gone*.”
“Maybe you lost them on holiday?”
“We havent been abroad since last summer!” Her hands shook as she texted Hannah: *”Loved your photos! Those rose earrings are gorgeouswhered you find them?”*
Reply: *”A gift from someone special. Always wanted a pair!”*
Dinner was silent. Later, our son Jack arrived. “Mum, youre pale. Whats wrong?”
She showed him the photos. “Your fathers lying.”
Confronted, I cracked. “Fine. Hannah and I its been eighteen months.”
Emilys face crumpled. “You gave her *my* earrings.”
“Bought new ones!”
“Liar. Mine are missing.” She turned to Jack. “Take him to her. Let him live there.”
Upstairs, her phone buzzed. Hannah: *”Sorry you found out. Toms kind. Thanks for the earring idea.”*
Emily packed a suitcase. Twenty years, half her lifegone. Some lessons cut deep: trust is fragile, and sometimes, the people closest to you are strangers in disguise.
