**Diary Entry**
I sat in the armchair, staring at the lipstick. It wasnt mineI never wear lipstick. Certainly not such a bold shade of red.
Once, Id found a long black hair on the car headrest. I confronted my husband, since Im a brunette with a chic bob.
“Relax,” hed said. “Remember yesterdays downpour? I drove past a bus stop, saw a woman with her little boy, and gave them a lift. They live just round the corner.”
“I see,” I exhaled.
“Emily, are you jealous? What are you accusing me of?”
“Just the hair.”
“Come here.” James hugged me, stroking my shoulder. “You know I love only you.”
And now the lipstick. Id found it last night under the car mat at the self-service wash. What was this? Maybe he gave a colleague a ride? But his office only had one womanMargaret, the cleaner, a modest pensioner in her sixties. She wouldnt own such a thing.
Unsettling thoughts crept in. James and I had been married seven years, but lately, hed been working late, claiming his new role demanded more hours.
I studied myself in the mirror. Thirty, no wrinkles yetjust faint laughter lines. My bob still suited me, my figure slim. Men still complimented me, though Id stopped styling my hair daily since marrying. Had James stopped loving me? I needed proof.
The phone rang.
“Hi, love. Left work yet? Should I warm dinner?”
“Not yet, darling. Just a couple more hours. Ill be home soon. Love you.”
The line went dead.
I called my friend.
“Charlotte, can I borrow your car tonight? James is working late, and I promised Mum Id bring her that fern. Ill top up the petrol.”
“Sure, swing by.”
Downstairs, I grabbed her keys from the next block. In my bag was a Tupperware of food. Id check if James was actually at work. If he wasnt lying, Id say I brought him dinner, then ask him to pick up new bedding.
At his office, only the security guard, Mr. Thompson, was there.
“Evening, Mrs. Carter. Your husband left at five sharp. Maybe you missed him?”
“Must have. I was visiting Mum and thought Id stop by. Thanks, goodbye.”
Back in the car, I called James again.
“Almost done?”
“Another hour. The sooner I finish, the sooner Im home.”
“Interesting. Finish what?” I thought. No doubthe was lying.
That evening, I pretended to have a headache and locked myself away. I seethed but had no solid proof.
The next day, I filed paperwork at HMRC, reported to my remote accounting clients, and took three days off.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow when I asked for her car again.
“Forgot the fern?”
“Errands. My cars still in the shop.”
“Em, what arent you telling me? Seeing someone?”
“Hardly.”
“Sit. Whats going on?”
“I think James is cheating. I didnt want to say, butCharlotte, I need to follow him. I know its wrong.”
“Ill come. Truth hurts less with company.”
By five, we parked near his office. Fifteen minutes later, he emerged. I rang him.
“On your way home?”
“Just a quick stop first. Be back by eight.”
Charlotte tailed him as he stopped at a florist, then turned into a familiar street. My hands shook.
“Emily, whats wrong? Know this place?”
“Yes. But it cant be.”
“Who lives here?”
“Olivia. Our friend Daniels ex-wife. They divorced two years agoirreconcilable differences. But James always said he hated women like her.”
“What kind?”
“Fake ones. Lash extensions, filler, tattoos. He preferred natural beauty. Hence why I dont wear lipstick.”
“Maybe its not her?”
“Too many coincidences. How do we check?”
“Ill knock. She doesnt know me.”
“James could answer.”
“Would he risk it? What floor?”
“Ground. Faces the road.”
Ten minutes later, Charlotte sprinted back.
“Hes there. I asked for watersaw the bouquet he bought. His shoes by the briefcase.”
“But why?”
“Tastes change,” Charlotte sighed. “What now?”
“Ill think. But tonight, hes out of our flat. Well split the savings. Bloody hellwe were three months from buying a three-bed in Chelsea.”
At home, I packed his things and left them by the door. In red lipstick, I scrawled:
“Happy with Olivia? Heres what shes missing.”
I tucked the note into his bag and waited by the window. When he parked, I shoved his suitcases outside.
He banged on the door, shouting until neighbours threatened to call the police. Finally, he left, texting:
“Tomorrow, 3 p.m., The Ivy. We need to talk.”
Only then did I cryhurt, betrayed. By morning, I knew: James wouldnt let go easily. Id make him and Olivia pay.
At The Ivy, he sipped coffee, tense.
“Late again?”
“Emily, whats this about?”
“I hate liars,” I said, sitting. “I know about Olivia.”
“Who told you that?”
“The long hair. The lipstickOlivias signature shade. And you skipping work when you claimed you were there.” I showed him photoshim leaving the florist, entering her flat.
He flushed, loosening his tie. “You followed me?”
“I did. Shameful, but now you cant lie. Heres the deal: we split the savings, sign the papers, and part ways. Does Daniel know?”
“None of his business. Shes his ex.”
“Why sneak around? You couldve divorced meno kids. Scared?”
“Cowardice,” he admitted. “Youre comfortable. Olivias a whirlwind.”
“Charming.”
“Also, the director values family men. Do this for medelay the divorce. Ive a deal in Edinburgh. If he finds out, its ruined.”
I stood. “No chance.”
The next day, we signed the papers. Then I called Daniel.
“I need help.”
He came straight over.
“Wheres James?”
“With Olivia.” I laid it all out. “Daniel, help me ruin them. Youre sharpyouve got reasons too.”
“You want me in your drama?”
“Your sister told me Olivia aborted your baby, lied it was a miscarriage. And James wiped your hard drive to steal your promotion. I kept quietfor him. But no more. Deal?”
“Deal. Youre lethal.”
“The company galas in two weeks. Ill strike first. Otherwise, hell seal that Edinburgh dealover my dead body.”
Two weeks later, I spent hours at the salonhair, nails, makeup. In my favourite cocktail dress, spritzed with perfume, I took a taxi.
James waited outside.
“Stunning.”
“Thanks. Olivia couldve ironed your shirt better.”
At the gala, we mingled. Two hours in, we approached the director.
“Mr. Harrington, youre the most striking woman here. No offence, my dear,” he joked, kissing his wifes cheek. “Join us at Sketch after Edinburgh?”
“Afraid not. Once James returns, were filing for divorce.”
“What? James, you didnt mention this!”
“Emily, what?”
“Forgive me, sir. James said you value family men. But I wont tolerate infidelity. Goodbye.”
I fled to a taxi. In the mirror, James chased us. Good. Let him taste betrayal.
He grabbed my arm at home. “Whatve you done?”
“What you deserved. Daniel knows everything.” I vanished inside.
A month later, we divorced. Daniel returned from Edinburghno longer just the office joker, but Deputy Director. The deal was his.
James was demoted, then sackedwho better than Daniel to expose his schemes?
He and Olivia lasted briefly. Daniel demanded half her flathis by right. She begged for time, but he refused.
“Get a mortgage.”
“We canttoo much debt.”
The business collapsed. They fought, split. James sold his failing company; Olivia sold her flat to pay creditors. Both crawled back to their parents.
Daniel and I thrived. I bought a two-bed, rented it out, and moved in with him. A year later, our daughter arrived.
Everyone got what they deserved.
