25March2025
Im sitting at the kitchen table in our flat on Victoria Road, the same old kettle whistling on the hob as I try to collect my thoughts. Emma had just flung a remark over her shoulder, Your lover called. She says hello! She didnt even look up from the frying pan, where something familiar was browningsomething as routine as the life weve built together.
I froze on the kitchen threshold. Twentyfive years of marriage flashed before me in an instant. My house keys slipped from my grip, clattered onto the tile with a harsh, metallic clang that seemed to pierce the sudden silence.
What are you talking about? A lover? My voice trembled, laying bare the fear and turmoil that have haunted me these past months. It felt as if the ground were slipping away beneath my feet.
Alice, isnt it? Your assistant, I take it? Emma finally turned, arms crossed over her chest. A twentyfiveyearold, she says shes been with you for four months now. Congratulations, dear.
The hurt in her eyes was so raw it made me want to disappear into the earthor, perhaps, to wake up and find it was all just a nightmare.
Emma, Ill explain I began, but the words lodged in my throat.
Explain what? That you were having fun with your secretary while I was running from one hospital to another? Or that you lied, saying you were working late? she snapped, her laugh hoarse and bitter.
The pan sputtered, sending a whiff of burnt meat into the kitchen. Emma flicked the gas off, as if that could halt the pain, the bitterness, the betrayal.
The most disgusting part, she whispered, voice dropping to a hiss, is that I saw it coming. All those meetings, latenight calls, trips abroad I believed you, like a fool, I believed.
Emma, listen I took a step toward her, but she raised a hand, as if erecting an invisible barrier.
Dont come near! tears flashed. For twentyfive years youve been a cat with its tail under the chair!
Stop, I tried to steady my voice, lets talk calmly. Its complicated.
Complicated? Emma laughed again, a laugh that sounded more like a sob. Whats complicated about that? You took a young lover. Shes pregnant. And me? Her voice broke, Im just an old woman who cant have children, is that it?
Dont say that! I stepped forward, trying to embrace her.
She twisted out of my arms, and a sharp slap ripped through the quiet kitchen.
Get out, she hissed, voice trembling, go back to her. If she can give you what I never could.
Emma
Leave! She snatched the salt cellar from the counter and flung it at me. The grains scattered across the floor, catching the light like tiny white shards.
Bad omen, I thought as I muttered, Ill call her, and retreated toward the door.
Emma turned to the window, shoulders shaking as if from a chill, though the spring night outside was warm. In the hallway, I slipped on my coat, hearing faint sobs behind the closed door. My hand froze on the knobwhat could I possibly say to justify the betrayal?
The front door slammed shut. The flat fell into a deafening hush, broken only by the tick of the mantel clocka wedding gift from my parents that had been marking our life together for twentyfive years, each tick a reminder of the time gone.
Emma sank into a kitchen chair, eyes fixed on the salt on the floor. They say salt brings bad luck, she muttered, then burst into a hysterical laugh. The thought of her life crumbling like those white crystals seemed absurdly fitting.
My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. An SMS from an unknown number: Sorry. I didnt mean for any of this. Alice
Wretch, Emma muttered, clutching the phone to her chest. Little scamp
Rain began to patter against the window, the first drops striking the sill like a mournful xylophone. Emma rose, grabbed a broom and dustpan, and started sweeping the salt back into a pile. A fleeting thought crossed her mind: I never even asked if shes expecting a boy or a girl
She paused, the dustpan clenched in her hand, the rain, the ticking clock, the saltall blending into a single, relentless stream of nothingness. Nothing else remained.
Later, I sat in my car, staring at the screen. Fifteen missed calls from my motherEmma had called her, of course, always doting on her daughterinlaw. What now? I asked my reflection in the rearview mirror. A tired, fortyfiveyearold man stared back, judgment in his eyes.
The phone vibrated again. Alice lit up the display.
Yes, love
Where are you? her voice trembled, as if on the brink of tears. I was so scared She was terrifying!
Who? I asked, confused.
Your wife! She turned up at work, made a scene
What? When?
An hour ago she screamed through the whole office that Id ruined your family, threw papers at me the results of her scans. She choked on a sob.
I dropped my head onto the steering wheel, a gasp escaping me.
I didnt know Alice continued, voice breaking. I truly didnt know you couldnt have children. I thought you just didnt want them
A flash of memory: I knew and still I stayed
Come, she pleaded. Im scared alone.
Im on my way, I muttered.
I turned the key, but the engine hesitated. The phone rang againthis time it was Mom.
Hello, love, she snarled. What have you done? Lost your conscience?
Mom
Shut up! Emma is sobbing, and youve spent twentyfive years with her, yet you run off with a girl! Youre a dog!
Mom
Im done with you. Until you sort yourself out, dont call, dont show up!
She slammed the receiver. The phone felt suddenly heavy in my lap, the cars idle hum the only sound.
I glanced at Emmas house, its windows glowing with a warm, domestic light. I could not go there, not nownot anywhere.
I switched off the ignition. The car sighed and fell silent. Alone in the sudden, deafening quiet, I heard a faint beeping from the handset.
Dammit, I whispered, striking the steering wheel until my fingers cramped.
Another message blazed on the screen: Divorce papers will be ready in a week. Collect your things at the weekend. Im leaving.
I read it over and over; the words never formed a coherent whole. Divorce. All twentyfive years crumbling to dust.
Another callAlice. Are you coming? My stomach hurts
On my way! I shouted, jerking the wheel as if it might tear me out of this nightmare.
Rain thrashed the windscreen, the city blurring into grey smears. My phone buzzed againlikely Mom again. I didnt even look; the world had already fallen apart.
A year ago, Alice arrived as an intern at work. Fresh, brighteyed, full of hopejust like Emma once had in our university days. A company party, a flirty touch, and suddenly I was whisking her off to restaurants, buying flowers, feeling young again.
I rented a flat for our secret meetings, watching her glow with happiness, dreaming of a future that was never mine to have.
Fool, I thought, watching the rainslicked road, old fool.
The phone rang yet again.
Its not Alice, said Emmas voice, oddly calm. Ive had a test. Guess what? Im also expecting.
Everything seemed to freeze. A sudden screech of brakes, a thud, darkness.
The doctor said myocardial infarction, plus a severe head injury. Condition critical, the surgeon announced, detached.
Emma stood by the ICU window, watching a man tangled in wires and tubes. Alice sat beside her, her face hidden in her hands, soft sobs escaping.
Stop wailing, Emma said, not looking at her. This isnt a drama.
Sorry Alice whispered, eyes darting away. Just the baby
A baby without a father, how quaint. And me without a husbandcheers to that, eh? Emma sneered.
Are you also? Alice stammered, eyes on Emmas barely visible belly.
Got knocked up too? Emma chuckled. Twentyfive years of nothing, and nowbam! A surprise, probably from nerves.
The monitor ticked steadily. The rain kept tapping the windowpanes, a reminder that life continued beyond these sterile walls. Emmas voice broke the silence.
I loved him from the first lecture. He was skinny, glasses, the one everyone mocked. All the girls asked what I saw in him. I saw the real him.
Alice clutched the curtain, as if something hidden behind the fabric could save her.
Then came the wedding, the rings, the veilall proper. My mother even said, Shell make a fine daughterinlaw. And yet here I am, a rejected piece.
We shouldnt speak like that, Alice murmured, her voice as soft as a falling leaf.
How should we speak? Do you know how many doctors Ive seen? How many procedures Ive endured? He kept telling me, Dont worry, love, well manage without kids. He lied. He lied completely.
He loves you, Alice said, though the words felt hollow.
He loves you until youre that one? Emma laughed, sharp as a knife. She clutched her belly instinctively.
Alice trembled, covering her stomach, trying to shield herself from the pain.
I thought we had love, she whispered, eyes on the floor. He was gentle, attentive
Then Im the? Emma snapped, sarcasm dripping. A careerdriven, childless wife? No children?
No! I didnt, Alice stammered, unable to find words.
Do you know whats funniest? Emma interjected. I almost understand you. Young, lovestruck you fell for a successful man, lost your head. I was the same. Only misfortunehes already my husband.
In the ward, Andrew shifted slightly. Both women leaned forward, then fell silent.
What now? Alice asked.
What will you do? Emma asked, weary. Andrew will have two heirs or heirs. Does it matter?
And him? Alice pressed.
What about him? Emma replied, bitterness lacing her tone. Hell chooseold wife with a trailer or a young lover with a bump.
Im not claiming anything, Alice began, trying to escape the trap.
Exactly you are, Emma cut in. You all claim. But listen, girl I wont give up my twentyfive years. Thats mine. You jumped on the wrong train, at the wrong station.
A nurse cleared her throat softly. Excuse me, visiting hours are over.
Of course, Emma said, smoothing herself. Lets go, dear. Ill show you the tea vending machine. Well be here a long time.
I came to my senses a week later. When I opened my eyes, Emma was sitting in the armchair by my bedside, a hand resting gently on my abdomen. The thought struck me: How could I have missed this?
Emma my voice rasped, foreign to my own ears.
She flinched, eyes widening. Arrived, love? I thought you were off gallivanting with angels.
Im sorry
Dont start, Emma snapped, annoyed. Your solicitor is here. I wont split the flatyou can keep the car, youll need it more. Ive quit my job.
What? I tried to rise, panic flooding my face. Why?
Im moving back to Luton, to my parents, she said, voice steady as if discussing the weather. Cleaner air for the baby.
Emma, dont
Its necessary, Andrew. I need to be with the child. I finally realise I was a fool for believing you. Not because I trusted you, but because I was terrified of living without you.
I love you, I whispered, as if those words could rewrite reality.
You love she nodded, not meeting my gaze. In your own way, like a habit, a part of life. I dont want to be just a habit, understand?
She stood, brushed off her dress as if shedding a weight that wasnt hers. Alice used to come every day, crying, saying shed give up all claims. Foolish thing I gave her a good gynaecologists number and a realtor to find a bigger flat. A onebedroom wont do with a child.
You what? I could barely process.
Whats the big deal? she shrugged. Were in the same boat now. Or rather, the same position. Funny, isnt it? All those years of emptiness, and now suddenly two lives. They say misfortune never comes alone. Neither does happiness.
Outside, a spring thunderstorm rumbled, tearing the day into fragments.
Dont linger, Emma leaned in, planting a light kiss on my forehead, as if it were just a polite farewell. Ive already booked a taxi, sent the belongings. Sign the divorce papers when youre betterwhy rush?
Emma
Listen, she paused at the doorway, turning back, I really did love youmadly, fiercely. Now its over, like a breath of fresh air. Thank you for that. And thank you, too.
She left, closing the door gently. The faint scent of her perfume lingered, the same perfume Id given her each anniversary.
I stared out the window where the spring storm mixed rain with a hint of snow. In this damp March city two women now carried my children in their heartsdifferent, yet somehow alike. Two paths, one story.
I realise now that the only lesson I can draw from this wreckage is that honesty, however painful, is the only foundation sturdy enough to support a life worth living.
