The air was thick with the hum of office chatter as Emily stepped out of the glass-fronted building, her mind still tangled in spreadsheets and deadlines. The day had been relentless, each hour stretching longer than the last. She needed a moment to breathe, to let the world soften around her. The familiar warmth of her favourite café beckoneda place where she could lose herself in the quiet ritual of a chicken Caesar salad and a steaming cup of Earl Grey.
But as she pushed through the door, the scene before her twisted like a reflection in a funhouse mirror. There, bathed in the golden light of the afternoon, sat her husband, James. And beside him, a woman who looked as though shed been plucked from the pages of a glossy magazineblonde, polished, her laughter tinkling like ice in a crystal glass. Her fingers, adorned with a sapphire ring that caught the light, brushed against Jamess wrist as she leaned in, her lips curled in a coy smile.
Emilys stomach lurched. The café seemed to tilt, the walls closing in. Her first instinct was to storm over, to demand answers in a voice sharp enough to shatter the pretence. But something held her back. No, this required more than anger. This required a performance.
She retreated to a shadowed corner, her pulse roaring in her ears. From there, she watched themthe way Jamess shoulders relaxed, the way his eyes crinkled when the woman laughed. It was a dance she knew too well, one shed thought reserved for their private moments. Her fingers tightened around her phone. She dialled his number. His screen lit up, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face before he silenced it. Emilys lips curled into a grim smile.
Then, as if summoned by the surreal logic of dreams, a man walked past her tabletall, tousled hair, the kind of effortless charm that belonged in a cologne advert. Without thinking, she raised her hand.
Excuse me, she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.
He turned, his brow quirking. Yes?
I have a strange request, Emily began, her gaze flicking to James and his companion. See that man over there? My husband. And that woman? Not me. Would you mind playing along for a moment? Id like him to taste his own medicine.
The manOliver, he introduced himselfgrinned, as if this were the most delightful twist in an otherwise mundane day. Why not? he said, sliding into the seat opposite her.
Emily leaned in, her voice low, her laughter deliberately bright. She watched from the corner of her eye as Jamess attention frayed, his posture stiffening. His companion said something, but his response was distracted, his eyes darting to their table.
Then, the final act. Emily took Olivers hand, her fingers interlacing with his as they stood. They drifted toward the exit, passing Jamess table. Emily paused, her voice dripping with faux surprise.
James! Fancy seeing you here. And whos your friend?
James paled. The blondes smile faltered.
This isuha client, he stammered.
A client? Emily echoed, tilting her head. How odd. I thought you were in meetings all afternoon.
The blondes eyes narrowed. Youre married?
Jamess jaw tightened. Emily, what the hell are you doing? This is business!
And Oliver? Emily gestured to the man beside her. Just a bit of fun. You dont mind, do you?
Jamess expression darkened. Youre cheating on me?
Oliver, sensing the storm brewing, muttered an excuse and vanished.
James threw a handful of pound coins onto the table and stormed out. Emilys chest ached, the weight of the charisma crushing her. She barely remembered the walk home.
When she opened the door, James was waiting, his face drawn.
Emily, he said, his voice raw. Was any of that true?
She sank onto the sofa beside him, exhaustion washing over her. No. I just wanted you to hurt like I did.
James ran a hand through his hair. Christ, this is mad. I shouldve told youit was just a pitch. Shes an investor. I was an idiot, but I swear, there was nothing else.
Emily studied him, the tension in her shoulders easing. Promise me no more secrets.
Promise, he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Forgive me, love.
He pulled her close, and for the first time that day, the world felt solid again. The blonde, the café, the liesthey faded, leaving only the quiet certainty of his arms around her.
