For three Saturdays in a row, Emily claimed she was “working late.” What I discovered turned everything upside down.
“Youre staying late again?” James tried to keep his voice steady, but it cracked.
Emily froze, her hand gripping her handbag. She turned slowly, as if buying time.
“Yeah, the projects a nightmare. The boss is losing iteveryones scrambling.”
“On a Saturday? For the third week?”
“James, dont be childish. Work is work.”
She kissed his cheekquick, perfunctory, like youd greet a neighbour. She smelled wrong. Not her usual perfume. Something sweet, milky. He frowned.
“Em, can we talk?”
“Later. Everything later, okay?”
The door slammed. James stood in the hallway, fists clenched. Three Saturdays. Three bloody Saturdays of her leaving at dawn and returning exhausted, silent, a stranger.
He couldnt take it anymore. He grabbed his car keys.
Emily stepped out of the building, glancing around. James ducked in his carthank God hed parked behind a van. She hailed a taxi. He started the engine.
They drove forever. Not to her officethat much was obvious. Some suburban estate on the other side of London. His heart hammered. Hed see. Hed finally know.
Emily got out near a shabby block of flats. James parked further down, followed on foot. She disappeared inside. He waited, counting floors. Third storey. Left window.
Half an hour passed. Then Emily reappeared.
With a pram.
James nearly staggered. A baby? They didnt have kidstheyd talked about it, but not like this, not with these secret Saturdays…
The baby wailed. Emily rocked the pram, murmuring helplessly. A younger woman rushed outLiz, Emilys reckless little sister. Twenty-five, twice divorced, always in some mess.
“Em, thank God! Ill be quick, two hours max!”
“Liz, you said one!”
“Please, Em! Im desperate!”
Liz bolted, leaving Emily with the screaming infant. She pushed the pram back and forth, clueless.
James retreated behind a wall, breath ragged. Not an affair. A nephew. But why the lies?
He drove home, beating Emily there. He needed to think.
Pacing their flat, he considered just asking. “Em, where were you?” But shed liehe knew it. Just like hed been lying.
Because he had a secret too.
Sarah. A colleague from another department. Nothing seriousjust coffees, chats, the occasional film. She laughed at his jokes, listened to his rants about work. The way Emily used to. Before their life became bills, chores, and silence.
With Sarah, it was easy. She reminded him of the Emily hed fallen for seven years agobright, carefree, hanging on his every word.
The key turned in the lock. James grabbed the remote, flicked on the telly.
“Hi,” Emily peered in. “Youve been here all day?”
“Yep. Couldnt be bothered going out.”
She moved to the kitchen. He heard water running, dishes clinking. He followed.
Emily stood at the sink, scrubbing a mug. Shoulders slumped, dark circles under her eyes. A stain on her jeanslooked like baby formula.
“Em.”
“What?”
“Youre exhausted.”
She turned, surprised.
“Yeah. Been a long week.”
“Lets go out. That Italian place from our anniversary?”
“James, Im shattered. Lets just order pizza?”
He nodded, watching her fumble with her phone. Her hands shook.
“Em, whats going on?”
“What dyou mean?”
“Youve been… different. For weeks.”
She froze. The phone slipped onto the table.
“Its just work.”
“On Saturdays?”
“Yes! On Saturdays! Stop interrogating me!”
Her voice broke. She was seconds from tears. He pulled her close. She stiffened, then melted, pressing her face into his shoulder.
“Sorry. Im just knackered.”
She smelled of baby powder and something sourspit-up, probably. He rubbed her back, felt her heart racing.
“Em, if somethings wrong, tell me. Im not a stranger.”
She pulled away, wiping her eyes.
“Its fine. Really. Just a rough patch. Itll pass.”
The pizza arrived. They ate in silence. Emily showered; James stared at his cold slice.
He could say it. “Em, I saw you with a pram. Lizs kid?” But then hed admit hed followed her. And shed ask, “Where were you on Friday nights?”
What would he say? That he sat in cafés with another woman? That he told her things hed stopped telling his wife? That hed wonderedwhat if?
His phone buzzed. Sarah: “Still on for Monday? Want to show you that film.”
James deleted it. No. They werent “on” for anything. Enough.
Emily emerged in a towel robe, hair damp. She sat beside him.
“James, lets stay in tomorrow. Just us.”
“What about work?”
“Sod work.”
He smiled. When had she last said that?
“Okay. Just us.”
She took his hand. Her fingers were cold, despite the shower.
“We lost something, didnt we?”
“What?”
“Us. We lost us.”
He squeezed her hand.
“Well find it.”
Next morning, they slept late. Emily made pancakesfirst time in a year. James brewed coffee, sliced fruit. They ate on the balcony, shivering but happy.
“Remember breakfast in Paris?” Emily said. “That tiny terrace?”
“Where you nearly dropped a cup on some blokes head?”
“I did not! It was wobbling, thats all!”
They laughed. How long since theyd laughed together?
The day felt surreal. Like playing newlyweds. They binged a series curled on the sofa, cooked togetherJames chopped, Emily stirred. No talk of work, money, plans. Just the moment.
That night, Emily fell asleep on his shoulder. He studied her facerelaxed, young again. Like the girl whod spilled coffee on him seven years ago. “Oh God, sorry! Let me pay for dry-cleaning! Oror Ill buy you another coffee?”
Hed bought hers instead. Then dinner. Then a ring.
Emily twitched in her sleep, murmuring. He tucked a blanket around her.
On Monday, he found Sarah.
“Hey! Thought youd forgotten about the film”
“Sarah, we need to talk.”
Her smile faded. Smart girlshe knew.
“Your wife?”
“No. Yes. I meanI cant do this.”
“James, nothing happened.”
“Exactly. And nothing will. Im sorry.”
She nodded, turning to her computer.
“Go. Just go.”
He left. His chest ached, yet felt lighter. Long overdue.
Emily wasnt home. A note on the fridge: “Back by 7. Dinner in the oven.”
He reheated it, set the table. Emily arrived right on time, jumpy.
“James, I need to tell you something.”
He braced himself. Here it comes.
“Liz has a baby. Four months old. The dad bolted. Shes skint, no job… Ive been helping. Watching him while she interviews. Or just… so she can sleep. Sorry I lied. Thought youd hate it.”
“Why would I hate it?”
“Well… weve talked about kids. And here I am, fussing over someone elses. Ive been giving her money too. From my wages,” she added quickly.
He pulled her close.
“You daft thing. Of course help her. Shes your sister.”
Emily sobbed into his chest.
“Im so sick of lying. Sick of making up stories.”
“No more lies.”
He thought of Sarah. His own dishonesty. But it wasnt the same. Just chats. Just…
“James,” Emily whispered. “Do you have secrets?”
His heart skipped.
“No. Well… sometimes I wasnt at work. Id be at the pub with mates. Just needed space. Felt… lonely here.”
Not the full truth. But not a lie. Sarah had been there sometimes.
“Lonely,” Emily echoed. “Yeah. I get that.”
They held each other in the kitchen. Then ate, talking properlyabout baby Oliver, Lizs new job, visiting properly now the secret was out.
“Actually,” James said suddenly. “Lets have one of our own.”
Emilys eyes widened.
“You mean it?”
“Dead serious. No more waiting.”
“But weve… drifted so far.”
“Then well fix it. Em, I love you. The girl who spilled coffee on me. The woman who
