Youre old! Im ashamed to show you to my partners, so I took a mistress! declared my husband.
Lately Emma had been swamped with work. Shed opened a boutique tailoring studio, spending every spare minute on the venture, yearning to lift it into the sunlight. She remembered that tonight there was a charity dinner, something her husband had mentioned in passing, and the thought snapped her awake.
James said she didnt have to be there, that he understood how busy his wife was and would go alone, but he frowned at the idea of treating his family carelessly. Emma called the venue manager, explaining that she couldnt make it because the evening was already filled with appointments and she needed to look the part.
She drew a bath, adding aromatic oils, and slipped into the steam, letting citrus and pine scents curl around her eyes. The phone perched on the tubs edge rang. She lifted her head, rinsed the foam from her hands, dabbed a towel, and answered.
It was her daughter Lucy, studying abroad. Emmas heart ached; she longed to hug her, even though Lucy was no longer a little girlshe would forever be her child.
Hello, sunshine! Lucy sang.
Mum, congratulations! Ive read about your boutique. Youre brilliant. Does Dad boast about you? Even though you could have ignored all this, you went ahead. I was surprised when you sent me the link. How do you manage everything? You even help Dad.
I didnt want to spill the beans early, but the work has already started and orders are coming in. I love it; Ive always wanted to try something new. Honestly, the business James and I built together always felt stifling. I dreamed of a place where I could be creative, and now that dream is finally alive.
They chatted about the weather, then Lucy hurried off to university. Shed been on an exchange and would be home in six months. Emma smiled, grateful for her family, and the thought lingered through the evening until she reached the restaurant where the charity dinner was held.
Miss, we cant let you in without an invitation, the guard insisted.
Then call my husband. He has a twoperson invitation.
Whats your husbands surname?
Emma rolled her eyes. The dismissive tone grated on her.
James Barlow. Check the list.
The guard scanned the list, exchanged a glance with his companion, and chuckled.
Theres a mixup, madam. James Barlow already entered with his wife.
With his wife? Emma repeated, bewildered.
Yes, the list shows he arrived with his spouse. You cant trick us; this is a private event. If youre a journalist who wasnt invited
Mark, whats happening? a velvety voice called from behind.
Emma turned, astonished to see her old schoolmate Tom Whitaker. She and Tom hadnt spoken in years, making the encounter feel like a dreamtide.
Tom! I didnt expect to see you. The guards say my husbands already entered with his wife, so they wont let me in, Emma complained.
Tom smiled warmly and nodded at the guard. Shes with me.
Emma was at a loss for gratitude. Shed planned a surprise for James, but perhaps she should have called ahead. Surely James, like Tom, had a guest pass too?
She didnt know what to say to a classmate she hadnt spoken to since secondary school. Tom had always been the kid who hovered on the edge of failure, constantly being sent to the headmaster. Who would have guessed hed become a director himself?
How are you? I see youve married well, given the venue, Tom asked, still grinning.
We built everything from the ground up together. Now I have my own business, a tailoring studio. If you ever need a bespoke suit, let me know.
Emma handed Tom her business card. Inside the hall she scanned the crowd for James.
And you? Exceeded the teachers expectations and landed on your feet? Tom teased.
Who cares about their expectations? Grades dont decide everything, Tom replied modestly. You havent changed; youre still the gorgeous woman I remember. Its lovely to meet like this.
In school Tom had once asked Emma out, but she, a careerdriven woman determined to finish her degree and climb the ladder, had turned him down. After university she drifted from old friends.
When Emma finally spotted James, she thanked Tom again and hurried to her husband.
My wife is the best. She inspires me, James declared proudly, and Emmas heart fluttered at his praise. Just then James pulled a stranger into his arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Darling, would you like a drink? the woman asked.
Emma stood frozen, as if the world had slipped sideways. He was introducing another woman as his wife? How audacious.
I dont mind, Emma replied, standing a few metres from James, his new companion and her entourage.
James turned, horror flickering in his eyes. He cleared his throat, apologized to his guests, and walked toward Emma. The mistress, a woman barely older than his daughter, followed, her heels clicking.
What are you doing here? James whispered to Emma.
I came to support my husband. You said this was an important event, Emma said calmly, watching the woman glide toward James. No explanation?
You shouldnt be here! James muttered, glancing at the mistress. Polly, go get a bite. Ill be back. He dragged Emma by the elbow toward the garden, ensuring they were out of sight.
He glared at her, angry. You could have ruined everything. I never invited you.
Because you brought someone else?
Emma felt the absurdity of the argument. She wondered what James lacked, why at his age he would seek such a scandal. The mistress bore no resemblance to Emma.
Youre old, Emma! Im embarrassed to show you to my partners, so I took a mistress. What did you expect? In our circle a wife must sparkle, not look like a tired horse. You fulfil that role perfectly.
Perhaps James held auditions for mistresses, matching their names to his wifes. Emma stared at him, feeling a deep, hollow disappointment.
Shes lovely, of course. She doesnt have to worry about the annual report or where to inject money to stay afloat. Smart choice, Mr. Barlow.
James merely shook his head.
Twenty years of marriage. You really thought Id have only one? Its normal. It wont affect our future. Now leave quietly. Ill be home soon and well talk.
There was nothing left to discuss. Emma resolved she would not stay in a pictureperfect marriage just because others did. She would not be another betrayed woman. A man who once cheated would likely do it again, so she stopped feeding herself fantasies.
Emma knew her boutique was thriving; she would not be left penniless. Shed get at least half of what was owed to her. Let James think what he will.
James left, and Emma sat on a bench beneath a dim streetlamp, trying to digest the nights revelations, wondering how to tell her daughter. Tom slipped a seat beside her, almost silently. He didnt invade her mind, but his presence soothed her. He recalled schoolyard jokes; Emma laughed, releasing her anxieties. For a moment she felt herself slip back to her carefree teenage self, remembering how easy life had seemed then.
I dreamed of growing up, now I wish I could return to school, Emma sighed.
I understand. If you need anything, just ask. I can drive you home.
Tom observed from the edge, noting that the guests wore masks of friendliness, playing their roles without rehearsal, all while the directors chair stayed empty.
Does your wife mind? Tom asked.
I have no wife. Ive never truly loved anyone. There were relationships, but nothing lasting, Tom admitted.
He didnt tell Emma that she had haunted his thoughts for years; it would only cloud the moment. He offered his support, then faded like a phantom.
Emma didnt ask where Tom worked or why his car was so expensive; money never swayed her. She had built her career and home on her own. While James toiled, she balanced the books at night, inspired his ideas, and now felt burnt out.
She said goodbye to Tom at the doorway, entered a place that had once been home but now felt foreign. She decided her daughter Lucy was old enough to handle whatever news she might give, so she kept the divorce plans to herself.
James had never supported the idea of splitting up.
Youre suitable as a wife. In business you need a pretty image, and I provide that, hed said.
Money doesnt just fall from the sky, does it? Emma retorted.
Think of Lucy. Shell need stability. A divorce will hit her hardest. Does that please you? James asked.
You only think of her now, Serge, Emma replied coldly.
They slept in separate rooms. The next morning Emma moved into a flat above her studio, refusing to share a roof with a deceitful spouse. James fought the divorce fiercely, but Emma kept her resolve, knowing shed have to divide assets. She hired good solicitors, and though James tried to bribe the judge, the court split everything evenly.
James called Lucy, hoping shed persuade her mother to stay, but Lucy sided with Emma, refusing to visit her father. She helped Emma at the studio and never forgave Jamess betrayal.
Emmas life began to settle. Letting go of twenty years was hard, but the boutiques reputation grew, orders flooded in, and expansion loomed.
One afternoon the phone rang.
Its Tom. You gave me your card for a suit
Oh, Tom, were swamped, but well make an exception for you, Emma replied, delighted to hear his voice.
Honestly, I dont need the suit urgently; I just called to suggest a coffee, he said.
Emma laughed, accepting the invitation, feeling perhaps this was a chance to start anew. She no longer chased the future aggressively; she learned to love herself first. Time raced, but she wouldnt waste it fearing old age alone. Her heart told her she wasnt wrong, and she and Tom might find happiness together.
