“What a surprise,” murmured Emily, staring at the man in the train compartment opposite herher own husband, sitting beside a woman shed never seen before.
“James, have you seen my blue scarf? The one you gave me last Christmas?” She rummaged through the wardrobe, keeping her voice light, her back turned so he wouldnt see her trembling hands.
“Check the top shelf, behind the shoeboxes,” James called from the kitchen. “You put it there after your last business trip.”
Emily froze. There was something in his tonean odd inflection. Fifteen years of marriage had sharpened her ear for the slightest shift in his voice. Just as it had taught them both the art of pretending not to notice.
“Found it!” she announced brightly a moment later. “Right where you said. Youve always had a memory for these things.”
“Occupational habit,” James smiled, stepping into the bedroom with two mugs of tea. “A lorry driver needs to remember every route, every turn, every stop”
*And every excuse*, Emily added silently. Aloud, she said, “Guess what? Theyre sending me to Manchesterright before Christmas! The manager insists I handle the year-end reports in person.”
She busied herself with packing, avoiding his eyes. There were no reports. There was only Daniel, the regional sales director from Brighton, whom shed met three years ago at a company event. Since then, theyd arranged occasional “business trips” to see each other.
“Funny coincidence,” James said, perching on the edge of the bed and handing her a mug. “Ive got a haul to Leeds. Urgent deliveryclient needs it by the 29th.”
Emily stifled a smirk. There was no urgent delivery. There was only the phone hed left on the kitchen counter three months ago. The messages from a woman named Sophie, a logistics coordinator from Leeds. The photos Emily had glimpsed before slipping the phone back into place. Shed known exactly where James really went on his “detours” through Leeds ever since.
“How long will you be away?” James asked casually.
“Back by the 29th,” she said. “Need to prep for the holidays. You?”
“Should wrap up by then too.”
They exchanged a smile, both knowing the other was lying. Emily had a hotel in Manchester booked until the 30th. James had planned to spend those days with Sophie at her countryside cottage.
That evening, they sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea and discussing New Years plans. The conversation flowed easilyyears of practice had made them experts at maintaining the façade of a perfect marriage.
“Should we invite your parents over?” Emily suggested.
“Theyre visiting my sister in Cornwall,” James said. “Ah, right,” Emily said, stirring her tea. “Then itll just be us.”
James nodded, his eyes down. A log shifted in the fireplace, sending up a shower of sparks.
Outside, the wind rattled the loose pane in the kitchen windowthe one hed been meaning to fix for months.
Neither mentioned that the house would be empty long before January.
The divorce papers were already in the post.
