“Boys Will Be Boys”
“Alright, love, Ive got to dashthe lads are waiting! No time to lose! Catch you later!”
With those words, more than just their evening plans crumbled. Inside, Emily felt everything drop. Yesterday, shed slaved over the stove, and today shed rushed home after a gruelling day, buzzing with excitementonly for this? A rushed dinner and a guilty peck on the cheek?
“What do you mean, dash? Tom, todays my birthday!” she reminded him, arms crossed.
Tom, already lacing up his trainers, straightened up and blinked at her like shed just asked him to explain quantum physics.
“Weve already had our bit, havent we?” He gestured at their plates. “Dinner, wine, that fancy hair curler I got you. Its Tuesday, love. Well do a proper do on Saturday when everyones round.”
“But I wanted it to be just us! Tonight! Now!” Emily protested, the shadow of loneliness creeping over her.
Tom sighed and spread his hands.
“Come on, sweetheart! Its not like Im off clubbingjust a few blokes and a round of FIFA. Theyre counting on me.”
His words stung. *They* were counting on him. Hadnt *she* been counting on him? Emily had hoped that just once, on her birthday, they could have an evening aloneno “mates,” no distractions. But apparently, even that was too much to ask.
“Sod off, then, Tom,” Emily snapped, turning away. “But just knowthis mattered to me. A lot. Were like flatmates who occasionally share a bed.”
He shrugged, carefree as if they were debating what to watch on telly. But this wasnt about her birthday. It was a scream from her soul. Lately, shed never felt loneliereven with Tom right there.
…It had started ages ago, if she was honest. Shed got exactly what shed signed up for. Back when they met, shed chosen Tom because he was fun, easygoing. But what worked for dating didnt always work for marriage.
When they first got together, hed dragged her to his mates game nightsboard games, not pubs. No drunken chaos, just polite, clever banter. To Emily, raised in a house where her dad drank himself into oblivion and her mum complained from dawn till dusk, Toms world felt safe. Shed missed out on a proper childhood, and with him, shed finally caught up.
When he proposed, Emily was over the moon. He seemed like the perfect partnercheerful, sharp, financially comfortable thanks to an inheritance that let him work part-time from home. No commute, no grind.
The first weeks of marriage were dreamy. A proper honeymoontrips to Cornwall, lazy beach days, long talks under the stars. Emily felt like a princess.
Then reality hit. The moment they got home, the fairy-tale carriage turned back into a pumpkin. That very first night, Tom vanished, leaving her alone to unpack and cook.
“The ladsll think Ive gone AWOL,” hed said. “Just popping round to show em the holiday pics.”
Back then, shed barely minded. Almost. Shed told herself it was sweet, his tight-knit friendships. But it kept happening. Over and over, Emily was left alone with the illusion of a marriage.
The last few months played in her mind like a depressing montage.
Shed come home exhaustednine-hour shifts, traffic, the endless race to keep up. Meanwhile, Tom would be sprawled in his gaming chair, headphones on, howling with laughter. A dirty plate and empty Coke cans on the desk.
“Tom, can you take the bins out?” shed ask softly, stacking dishes.
“Just a sec, love! Nearly done with the lads, then Ill sort it,” hed promise.
“Just a sec” stretched into hours until shed haul the bag out herself. Because thats what you did when you needed to cook. When the smell made *your* stomach turn.
It was the same every time.
Tom stayed up till dawn while Emily rose for work. Sometimes shed wake to him ranting into his headset, debating some in-game strategy with the boys.
They lived side by side, not together. Like siblings sharing a house but living separate lives.
Of course, shed tried talking to him. He never got it.
“What more dyou want? Im home most of the day! I cant be glued to you 24/7,” hed say, baffled.
What she wanted was simpleattention. Shared evenings. Basic human connection.
Eventually, Emily cracked and confided in her friends. Sarah, ever the optimist, tried to cheer her up.
“Count yourself lucky! At least hes bringing in money and not gallivanting. My Daves off to Manchester for workI see him once a month, and Im just grateful for that! Youve got it made.”
Liz, though, didnt sugarcoat it.
“Ive been there. Youre basically single, just with extra chores. Your boys not done playingwhats he want with a family? Have a kid, and youll *really* never see him. His mates are more fun than a screaming baby.”
Those words stuck. For a while, Emily wavered. Maybe Sarah was rightTom was decent, didnt drink, paid the bills. Maybe she should just put up with it?
But now, sitting alone on her birthday with a half-finished bottle of wine, she knew: she didnt want to be Sarah. She didnt want the bare minimum. She wanted a partner who actually wanted *her*.
The roast veg and beef shed painstakingly prepared had gone cold. The salads sat untouched. Shed rushed through her day, dreaming of a tiny celebrationonly for Tom to shrug on his jacket and vanish, leaving her with wine, tears, and the crushing realisation that this was her future. Always waiting for him to grow up. Always coming second. Birthdays, kids, growing oldhed miss it all.
Emily couldnt do it. Not tonight. She called a cab and went to her mums. Margaret had lived alone for years. She took one look at Emilys red-rimmed eyes and pulled her into a hug.
“Sod him,” she said after hearing the whole story. “Well celebrate. Fancy a takeaway? Your pick.”
That evening, Emily remembered what family felt likeimperfect, but *there*. They talked for hours, Mum listening without interrupting. Tom hadnt really listened in ages.
So when he started calling late that night, Emily ignored him. She only answered in the morning.
“Where the hell were you?”
“At Mums. Celebrating with people who care.”
“Em, dont be daft. Come home. I didnt do anything wrong!”
“Thats the point. You *didnt* do anything. Youre just… absent.”
“Oh, come off it! We had dinnerwhats the issue?”
“Yeah, a whole five minutes before you bolted to your lads.”
“Bloody hell, its not like Im cheating! Youre blowing this out of proportion.”
“You know what? Cheating Id understand. At least Id know what Im fighting. But this? Youve already got a familyyour mates. Im just… background noise.”
Silence. For once, Tom had nothing to say.
“Tom,” Emily said quietly, “I didnt want it to come to this, but… choose. Them or me.”
“Ultimatums now?” he huffed. “Em, you know I love you. But Im not ditching my friends”
Emily exhaled. Suddenly, everything was crystal clear.
“Then live with them.”
She hung up and went to breakfast. Mum had made her favourite pancakes. She cried into her syrupthen felt lighter, like shed dropped a weight shed been carrying for years.
She went backbut only for her things. Tom barely glanced up from his screen as she packed. Just muted his mic.
He stayed in his worldgames, lads, eternal adolescence. Emily walked into hersone where she deserved more than being an afterthought. Tom had chosen never to grow up. And that meant they were never going the same way.
