**Diary Entry April 12th**
I dont understand why youre insisting on this dinner, Emily,” Mum said, placing a vase of roses in the center of the table and eyeing the place settings critically. “You and James have been at each others throats lately. Whats the point of pretending everythings fine?”
Emily silently polished the crystal wine glasses, running a soft cloth along their delicate edges. These had been a gift from her mother-in-law on their tenth anniversary. Back then, it felt like they had decades ahead of them. Now, five years later, even a simple family meal felt like walking on eggshells.
“Mum, Harrys fifteen. Hes not a child. But I want him to see that James and I can be civil, even when things are tough. Family matters.”
Mum sighed and shook her head. At sixty-three, she was sharp as ever, her voice steady. After Dad passed, shed moved in with us, becoming my rock.
“Your father, God rest him, used to say, A rotten bridge wont bear a heavy cart. Forgive my bluntness, but your marriage is that bridge right now.”
Emily set the last glass down and turned to the window. The April dusk painted the sky in soft pinks. Somewhere out there, James was finishing work. Would he even come home? Lately, hed been distant, staying late at the office, cold when he finally walked through the door.
“Some things need settling, Mum. For Harrys sake.”
The door burst open as a lanky teenager hurried in, shoving notebooks into his backpack.
“Mum, Im going to Toms. Weve got physics homework.”
“Hold on” Emily caught his sleeve. “Family dinner, remember? Your dads coming.”
Harry rolled his eyes dramatically. “Why bother? Hes barely home anyway. You really think he cares?”
“Harry!” Mum scolded. “Dont speak about your father like that. He works hard for this family.”
“Yeah, especially on weekends and evenings,” he muttered. “Mum, please? Ill be back by seven, promise.”
Emily exhaled. Lately, Harry had become withdrawn, always slipping out. Maybe letting him go was betterless tension.
“Fine. But be back by seven. Your dad has something important to say.”
Once he was gone, Mum shook her head. “That boy feels the tension, Emily. Dont lie to him. If things are over with James, tell him straight.”
“Nothings over, Mum.” Emily turned away to hide her tears. “Its just a rough patch. Every marriage has them.”
Before Mum could reply, the front door clicked shut. James was home early. Emily wiped her eyes and forced a smile.
“Hi,” she called, stepping into the hall.
James gave a stiff nod, hanging up his coat. He looked exhaustedhis broad shoulders slumped, streaks of grey at his temples. Twenty years together, fifteen married. She used to think she knew him inside out. Now, he felt like a stranger.
“Is Harry home?” he asked, heading to the kitchen.
“At a friends, but hell be back by seven. You wanted to talk to him?”
James nodded, avoiding her gaze. He greeted Mum with a murmur and sat at the table.
“Tea?” Mum offered. “Dinners still half an hour.”
“No, thanks.” He pulled out his phone, burying himself in emails.
The silence was suffocating.
“Ill check the roast,” Mum said tactfully, retreating to the kitchen.
Emily sat across from James. “Can we talk?”
He looked up, and for the first time, she saw real pain in his eyesnot just exhaustion or irritation.
“About what?” His voice was flat.
“Us. Whats happening. Youre never home, we dont talk”
“Whats left to say, Emily?” He set his phone down. “Do we even have anything left?”
“Of course we do!” She leaned forward. “Fifteen years, James. Does it really end like this? Without even trying?”
He studied her, conflict flickering in his gaze, then shook his head. “Lets wait for Harry. Theres something I need to say to both of you.”
Her stomach dropped. Something irreversible hung in the air.
At seven, Harry bounded in, oblivious to the tension. “Dad! Youre back! Tell me about the new project!”
James forced a smile, ruffling his hair. “Later, mate. Lets eat first.”
Dinner was painfully quiet. Mum tried filling the silence with gossip about the neighbors; Harry chattered about school. James barely touched his food, staring blankly at his plate.
“Pudding?” Emily offered as they cleared the plates. “I made your favorite treacle tart.”
“No.” Jamess voice was steel. “We need to talk. Properly.”
Mum stood. “Ill give you privacy”
“Stay.” His tone left no room for argument. “This concerns everyone.”
Emilys hands trembled. James looked resolutealmost hostile. Shed never seen him like this.
“Ive debated how to say this,” he began, staring at the table. “But theres no easy way.” He lifted his gaze to Harry. “I cant live a lie anymore. Your son isnt mine, Emily.”
The room froze. Emilys breath hitched. Harry gaped. Mum clutched her chest.
“What?” Emily choked out.
“I know everything,” James said quietly, each word a hammer blow. “About you and Daniel before we married. He told me last week. Said he couldnt keep it secret anymore.”
“Daniel?” Emily stared between James and Harry, bewildered. “I havent seen him in years!”
“Stop lying.” James slammed a fist on the table, rattling the dishes. “He showed me your letters, photos. Said you met up while I was awaya month before our wedding. The dates add up, Emily. I checked.”
Harry shot up, his face white. “Whatwhat are you saying? Youre not my dad?”
“James, stop this,” Emily begged. “Youre wrong! Harrys yoursI never cheated!”
“Why would he lie?” Jamess voice cracked. “Daniel said hes regretted letting you go for years. Now hes divorced, and he wants to try again. With you. And his son.”
Harry bolted to his room, the door slamming behind him. Emily moved to follow, but Mum held her back.
“Give him space,” she murmured. Then, to James: “You believed some stranger over the woman youve loved for fifteen years?”
“Hes not a stranger.” James rubbed his temples. “He was my best friend. Until he stole my fiancée. Now hes finishing what he started.”
The pieces clicked. DanielJamess old university matehad confessed feelings before the wedding. Theyd met once, in a café. Hed begged her not to marry James. Shed refused. That was it. No affair. No betrayal. This was revengefifteen years in the making.
“James, listen,” she said carefully. “I did see Daniel before the wedding. Once. For coffee. He asked me not to marry you. I said no. Thats all.”
“And the letters? The photos?” James pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket. “Your handwriting, Emily. Id recognize it anywhere.”
She took it, hands shaking. The script resembled hersbut the words werent hers.
“This is fake,” she whispered.
“Enough!” James stood, his face twisted with pain. “Ive spent fifteen years raising another mans child. Im done. The divorce papers arrive tomorrow.”
He grabbed his coat and left. The silence that followed was deafening.
Mum squeezed her shoulder. “What now? Harrys shattered. James wont listen. How do we prove its a lie?”
Emily straightened. “A DNA test. Its the only way.”
The next day, she took Harry to a private clinic. He was quiet, withdrawnolder somehow.
“Mum what if hes right?” he asked as they waited for the swab. “What then?”
“Hes your father, love,” she said softly. “Ive never doubted that.”
“But the letters”
“Fakes. Daniels always been a manipulator. This is his revenge.”
Harry swallowed hard. “If if he wasnt my dad would you love me less?”
Her throat tightened. “Never. Youre my son. Always will be.”
Three agonizing days later, the email arrived. The results were clear: 99.9% probability of paternity.
“Mum!” Emily sprinted to her mothers room, waving the report. “Proof! James is Harrys father!”
Mum crossed herself. “Thank God. Now show James.”
But he ignored calls and texts. Desperate, Emily went to his office.
The receptionist hesitated. “Mr. Whitmores on leave. Hes not taking visitors.”
“This is about his son,” Emily said firmly. “If he doesnt come out, Ill make a scene theyll talk about for years.”
Five minutes later, James appearedunshaven, hollow-eyed.
“What do you want?”
Silently, she handed him the results. His face twisteddisbelief, shock, then crushing guilt.
“Is this real?”
“DNA doesnt lie,” she said softly. “But people do. Especially ones like Daniel.”
James sank into a chair, covering his face. “God, what have I done? Harry”
“Hes devastated,” Emily said coldly. “How could you believe this, James? After everything?”
“He was so convincing,” he whispered. “The letters, the photos And weve been so distant lately.”
“Because you worked nonstop. Not because I betrayed you.”
A long silence. Then, hoarsely: “Can you forgive me?”
“I dont know,” she admitted. “But for Harrys sake, Ill try. He needs his father.”
That evening, James returned with flowers and a new console for Harry. Their talk lasted hours. When they emerged, both were red-eyed but calm.
“Its okay, Mum,” Harry said quietly. “Weve talked it out.”
Mum wiped her eyes and busied herself with dinner. James took Emilys hands.
“I was a fool. I dont deserve forgiveness. But I love you both more than life. Ill spend forever earning your trust back.”
She searched his facethe regret, the love still there. “Itll take time, James.”
“However long you need.”
A week later, Daniel showed up at our doorpale, shaken.
“Emily, II never meant for this. I was drunk, angry”
James shut the door in his face. Then he turned to us. “No one comes between us again. I promise.”
For the first time in weeks, Emily felt the storm lifting. Thered be work aheadtears, tough conversations. But theyd chosen each other. Chosen family.
“I love you,” she whispered, hugging them both. “My boys.”
Harry groaned but hugged back. James kissed her forehead. “Forgive me. Ill never doubt you again.”
Outside, dawn brokea new day, faced together. A family, tested and stronger for it.
