Who are you chatting with? Emma peered over Jamess shoulder at the glowing screen, curiosity prickling her eyes.
Ah! he flinched, slamming the socialmedia app shut. What are you doing, creeping around? spying on me?
I wasnt even thinking about it. Why the sudden panic? Was it Lucy you were seeing?
Lucy? he asked, bewildered.
Lucy Harper, your old schoolmate. The one you used to chase in the senior years.
And? You think Ive got a doppelgänger? I dont recall anyone like that. Just heat up the dinner, dont stand there like a statue!
Emma let the question drop, pursed her lips and drifted to the kitchen.
Doesnt remember, huh? she muttered to herself.
Jamess denial felt hollow. How could he forget? Hed been smitten with Lucy since they were teenagers, trailing her like a shadow, whispering compliments into the hallway. Even after he and Emma were married, he kept a photograph of Lucy tucked in a drawer. When Emma uncovered a fragment of his past, she shredded it into tiny pieces so it could never be pieced back together.
He hid it in a secret compartment, but only fragments remained. Another man might have kept quiet, but James thrashed the furniture in fury. Their argument erupted so violently that Emma fled to her parents house; they nearly split apart.
Then she discovered she was pregnant, forgave him when he finally stepped back from the brink, and they never spoke of it again.
Years later, as social networks blossomed and people scoured the internet for longlost school friends, James fell into the same web and vanished into the virtual world.
Since the night Emma had grabbed his arm when she saw Lucys face on the screen, shed noticed his head sinking deeper into the online abyss. He was constantly texting, chuckling at messages, brushing off Emmas questions with a clack of his keyboard. He passwordprotected his computer and phone, staying later at work, his eyes forever fixed on the blue glow. Emma felt she was standing on the edge of a precipice.
Mum, whats wrong? Everyones on social media now. Want me to sign you up? Emma asked, halfjoking.
No, love, weve had enough of that nightowl in the house who does nothing but stare at a screen, her mother replied, sighing.
Emma tried everything: cutting cables, refusing to pay the internet bill, flicking the lights off, hoping a little darkness would pull James back. It was futile. He snarled, twisted his head, then slammed the door and stormed out.
Enough! Emma thought as she trudged home from work that evening. It cant go on like this He must choose: me and our son, or the internet!
She entered the flatdarkness hung like a heavy curtain. Their son, Tommy, was staying with Grandma for the holidays, and James lounged on the couch in the living room. For the first time in months, Emma saw him not glued to a screen. She smiled, then a sly thought crossed her mind.
Why are we sitting here in the dark? she said, tossing off her boots at the hallway.
Im not in the mood for jokes, Emma. Stop the sarcasm! Cant you see Im feeling ill. James snapped.
And whos feeling alright now? she retorted, a grin tugging at her lips. Hungry?
Im fed to the brim! he shouted.
Well, thats new! Emma laughed.
Jamess voice trembled. Ive been through a medical review at work thats all, he handed her a crumpled sheet.
Emma skimmed the report, tears gathering like rising tide.
How? When? she demanded.
Emma, Ive made a decision. You have to understand what Im saying he rasped.
About what?
About the house
The house what?
The house, Emma. You see, we own the cottage at our motherinlaws place, but Mum gave me a flat in the city. Im the sole owner, so I decide
Fine, if theres a way, she cut him off, lets sell it and fund my treatment, just to beat this illness.
Jamess eyes widened. Emma, you dont get it! I cant be helped, and Ill give the flat to Lucy she needs it more! he shouted, his voice cracking.
What? What did you just say? Emmas body shook, tears drying on her cheeks.
You heard! James leapt from the couch, ready to charge. This is my final will! Im the owner, I decide!
Lucy? Lucy? The very Lucy you were obsessed with since school? Emma whispered, halfin disbelief. The pieces fell together: the nightly messages, the hidden chats, the secret that had been swallowing her whole.
Yes, her! She still matters to me. Who knows how our lives might have turned out if she hadnt moved away with her parents James stammered.
Emma fell silent for a heartbeat, then, in a cool, detached tone, said: If youve made up your mind, let Lucy chase after you and drag you down. Ive got nothing left to do here. She gathered her belongings, called a cab, and vanished to her mothers house on the edge of town.
James hadnt expected such a swift exit. He thought that once Emma learned he had little time left, shed stay by his side.
For three months Emma drifted on autopilot, her soul feeling as if it had been crushed by Jamess words. Tommy still visited his father occasionally, despite Emmas pleas. Mum, can you imagine? Dads lying there, cant get up, and Auntie is hunting for buyers for the flat, he would say.
A hospice was mentioned, a place to merge his dying days. Jamess father turned green with anger when he heard, and they clashed like cat and dog. Tommy relayed, Dad boiled his own porridgelet him now get the crumbs! I wont go to him, nothing for me there!
Emma tried to forget her husband. To distract herself, she went out with friends to a restaurant, something she hadnt done while James ruled their world of workhomework. She danced, sang, shed a few tears with the ladies, swapping stories about the quirks each of them carried in their little cottages. Life, after all, wasnt meant to be a perpetual calm.
She returned home well past midnight. Her mother and son had been warned, so they lay asleep, not waiting for her. Emma stepped out of the cab, a smile on her lips, a cool summer night breathing around her. A streetlamp, which had flickered out the night before, cast a dim halo as she walked toward the terrace, humming a tune to herself.
She thought how long it had been since shed sat with the girls, recalling youth, feeling the weight lift from her chest, breathing easier.
From the shadows, a voice called, Emma, Ive waited for you! it was James, standing on a low stone by the gate, halfhidden in the darkness. He wore white trousers and a shortsleeved shirt, matching the night. He didnt move.
Ah! Emma shrieked, half in terror, half in disbelief, as if a phantom bride had stitched herself to his spirit. Emma, Im sorry! I didnt mean to frighten you!
She clutched her heart, realizing it wasnt a vision but James himself, standing there as if newly arrived. The drunken haze that had clouded her vanished; her heart nearly stopped from the shock.
What are you doing here, you fool? she ranted, flailing her handbag, tearing at his shirt. I almost gave my soul to you, you lunatic! Get out, I never want to see you again!
Her mother and Tommy burst out, startled. Emma, one hand in her hair, the other slapping his face, seemed to be trying to scare him away. The mother and son managed to calm her, and she broke down in tears. James lifted his head, whimpering like a lamb: Im not to blame, a devil misled me. I love you and Tommy, but Ive driven away that swindler.
He exhaled a breath of relief.
James then confessed he wasnt ill at all; it was a mistake, a broken machine that had given him the same diagnosis as three other patients that day. Hed pretended to be Lucys husband to get a hospital bed, prolonging his stay by three months instead of the month theyd promised.
The hospital had called his wife, saying Weve notified your spouse and the paperwork had listed Lucy as his partner. He had kept quiet, hoping to secure the flat for her, even arranging a hospice spot for her.
Im sorry, Im sorry James knelt before Emma, pleading. I understand now
Emma didnt return to him immediately; she needed time to think. James, the dutiful father, spent all his free moments with Tommy, surprising Emma with his sudden changes. Their mothers garden, which hadnt seen a spade in fifteen years of marriage, now buzzed with activity. Emma even helped her mother sell potatoes at the market on weekends, a task shed never imagined.
And Lucy what a lesson she taught. A silksmooth lesson that would stay with James forever. He cut ties with his old schoolmates for good, vowing never to be socially connected again. Now he only sought Emmas forgiveness.
He even transferred the deed of the city flat to her, a wild gesture of love. Emma still hesitated, wondering whether to return. She kept the deed on the table, untouched, while their son remained a shared bond.
In the end, Emma smiled faintly, the dreamlike night humming around her, the strange logic of her thoughts settling like mist over the Thames.
