The glow of her daughters phone screen caught her eye, and in that moment, everything changed.
“I cant take this anymore! Every nightsame thing!” Emily slammed the plates into the sink, her voice trembling with frustration. “He comes home silent, eats in silence, then shuts himself away like a stranger!”
“Mum, calm down,” Sophie sighed, putting her phone aside. “Dads just stressed at work. You know how it is.”
“Stressed?” Emily let out a bitter laugh. “For three bloody months? Your father used to talk to me, Sophie. Now theres this… wall between us. And those hushed phone callswhats that about?”
Sophie shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting to her phone.
“Youre overthinking it. Hes just tired.”
“Tired.” Emily scrubbed the already clean pot harder. “He never used to be too tired for us. Twenty-five years together, and now…?”
She didnt finish. Sophie exhaled, grabbed her phone, and slipped away to her room. Emily watched her go, unease coiling in her chest. Something was wrong. Markalways so open, so presenthad become a ghost in his own home. He avoided her eyes, worked late, carried secrets in the way he held his shoulders.
Another woman? The thought clawed at her, but she pushed it away. Not Mark. Never. Then what?
Later, the front door creaked open. Mark stepped inside, shoulders heavy.
“Evening,” he muttered, toeing off his shoes. “Late again.”
“As always.” Emily forced a smile. “Hungry?”
“Not really.” He wouldnt look at her. “Sophie home?”
“Upstairs.” She hesitated. “Mark… can we talk?”
“About what?” His eyes flicked upexhausted, haunted.
“About us. About whatevers happening. Youve shut me out.”
“Not tonight, Em.” He squeezed her shoulder, gentle but distant. “Just… need to rest.”
Without another word, he knocked on Sophies door and disappeared inside. Emily stood frozen in the hallway, dread pooling in her stomach.
That night, she lay awake, listening to Marks steady breathing. He wasnt sleeping. She wanted to reach out, to demand answersbut fear held her back.
The next morning, after Mark left for work, Emily cleaned. Anything to fill the silence. Sophie was still asleeplate lectures at uni.
She dusted, vacuumed, mopped. Sophies room was tidy as always. As she straightened the duvet, she spotted the forgotten phone.
“Should charge it,” she muttered. No passwordSophie had nothing to hide. The screen lit up, revealing an open chat with Dad.
Emilys fingers hovered. She shouldnt. But the message glared up at her:
*Dad, you have to tell Mum. She deserves to know.*
Her pulse spiked. Know what?
She scrolled before she could stop herself.
*Mark: Sweetheart, I cant. Not after what happened with her mum.*
*Sophie: But this is different! The doctors said treatment could work.*
*Mark: Chemo, surgeryshell fall apart worrying.*
Chemo. Surgery. The words blurred. Emily sank onto the bed, her breath shallow.
Sophies voice startled her. “Mum?”
Emily looked up, guilt and terror warring in her chest.
“You read my messages?” Sophies voice crackednot anger, but fear.
“Sophie,” Emily whispered. “Whats wrong with your dad?”
Sophie bit her lip, then exhaled. “Hell kill me for this.”
And then she told her. The stomach pains three months ago. The tests. The shadow on his pancreas.
“He didnt want to scare you,” Sophie said softly. “Not after Grans stroke. He was waiting for the biopsy results. Its tomorrow.”
Emilys hands trembled. “And he was going alone?”
“I promised to go with him.”
Emily stood, staring out at the sunny London street. Life, moving on. While hers splintered.
That evening, Mark came home to a table set with his favouritebeef Wellington, golden and rich.
“Special occasion?” He eyed Emily warily.
“No occasion.” She smiled, pouring wine. “Just thought youd like it.”
His gaze flicked to Sophie, who looked away.
“Whats going on?”
“Nothing,” Emily said lightly. “Just realized something important today.”
“Oh?” He took a sip, watching her.
“That weve been married too long for secrets.” She held his gaze. “Im coming with you tomorrow. To the hospital.”
The glass froze midway to the table. Wine sloshed. “You” His face paled. “Sophie?”
“I didnt tell her!” Sophie blurted. “Mum saw the texts when she was cleaning.”
Marks shoulders sagged. “I wanted to spare you,” he whispered. “After your mum…”
“And Ive been imagining the worst!” Emilys voice broke. “Wondering if youd fallen out of love. If there was someone else.”
His hand found hers. “God, Em. Im sorry.”
“Together,” she said fiercely. “Whatever comes nextwe face it together.”
The next day, biopsy. Then the agonizing wait.
Finally, the consultant smiled. “Benign. Surgery will take care of itno chemo needed.”
Emily clutched Marks hand, tears spilling. Relief made her lightheaded.
Mark leaned against the wall, face in his hands. “Im such an idiot,” he choked out. “Pushing you away when I needed you most.”
Emily cupped his face. “Were okay.”
Sophie barrelled into them. “Well?”
“Just an op,” Emily laughed through tears. “Dads going to be fine.”
Mark pulled them both close, his old smile breaking through. “Better than fine.”
And Emily thoughtsometimes, you have to break the rules to save what matters most.
