**Diary Entry 29th May**
“Help me with these bags, will you? Dont just stand there like a lamppost!” Emily called from the hallway, shaking off her rain-soaked coat.
James sighed, reluctantly tearing himself away from the football match on telly, and trudged over. Rain hammered against the windows, leaving the flat damp and chilly.
“Bloody hell, you went to the farmers’ market again? Its daylight robbery there,” he muttered, peering into the heavy bags.
“And where else am I supposed to get decent tomatoes? The supermarket ones taste like plastic. Sarahs coming tomorrow with the kidsI wanted to make that beetroot soup she loves.”
She bustled about the kitchen while James watched, silent as usual. Every time his younger sister visited, Emily acted like royalty was descendingbuying the best ingredients, scrubbing the place spotless, even digging out the fine china.
“I dont see the point in all this fuss,” James mumbled. “Sarahs not picky.”
“Pickiness has nothing to do with it. Guests deserve a proper welcome, especially family,” Emily snapped, stashing vegetables in the fridge.
She knew he disapproved, but she did it anyway. Sarahalways “Sarah Elizabeth” in her head, never just Sarahwasnt just his sister. She was some untouchable ideal. Beautiful, successful, two perfect kids, a husband with a good job. Lived in Manchester, worked in finance, dressed like she stepped out of a magazine. Next to her, Emily always felt like a frumpy shadow.
A knock at the door cut through her thoughts.
“Thats early,” James frowned, checking his watch. “They said theyd come after lunch.”
But it wasnt Sarah. It was old Mrs. Wilkins from next door, eyes red-rimmed.
“Emily, love, have you seen my Archie? Hes been missing three days now. Ive looked everywhere!”
Emily ushered her in, put the kettle on. Mrs. Wilkins lived alonethat cat was her whole world.
“Havent seen him, love. Maybe hes locked in somewhere? Did you check the cellar?”
“Everywhere! Even asked the caretaker. Oh, whatll I do without him?”
James rolled his eyes and retreated to the telly. Hed never had patience for neighbourly dramas or weepy old women. Emily poured tea and listened, patient as ever, while Mrs. Wilkins fretted.
An hour later, when shed finally gone, James snapped.
“Weve got guests today, and youre faffing about with that daft old bat!”
“For Gods sake, James, shes heartbroken! If I lost Archie, Id be beside myself.”
“A bloody cat! Meanwhile, Sarahs on her way, and youve done sod all to prepare!”
Emily clenched her jaw. There it was againSarah. As if nothing else mattered.
That evening, Sarah arrived, flawless as evertailored blazer, sleek hair, designer heels. The kids, ten-year-old Oliver and eight-year-old Emily (named after her, though it never felt like an honour), dashed straight to Uncle James.
“Uncle James! You promised to show us that new game!” little Emily chirped.
“Course I did! Just get changed first.”
Watching him with his sister was like seeing a different manlaughing, attentive, warm. Emily couldnt understand why he wasnt like that with her.
Dinner was strained. The kids chattered about school, Sarah about work, James hanging on her every word. Emily stayed quiet, refilling glasses, offering seconds.
“Youre quiet tonight,” Sarah remarked.
“Just tired,” Emily lied.
“Shes always tired,” James cut in. “Comes home from work in a mood, then mopes about.”
Emily flinched. Was that really how he saw her?
After dinner, the men flopped in front of the telly, the kids glued to their tablets, leaving the women to clear up.
“Need a hand?” Sarah asked, though it sounded more like a duty than an offer.
“Ive got it.”
As Emily washed up, laughter spilled from the living roomJames and Sarah reminiscing about some childhood neighbour.
“Emily,” Sarah said suddenly, “James mentioned you want kids.”
Her hands stilled on the plate. Hed discussed that with her?
“Weve been married seven years,” she said carefully.
“Thing is, as his older sister, I worry. Kids are a huge responsibility. Financially, especially.”
“Well manage.”
“Will you?” Sarah gave a faint smile. “No offence, but look at the facts. James doesnt earn much, neither do you. Rented flat, no car. School fees, uniforms, uni later…”
Emily turned, gripping the plate. “Whats it to you?”
“If things go sideways, Ill be the one bailing him out. Hes always relied on me.”
“No ones asking you to.”
“Not asking, no. But I will. Hes my brother.”
Emilys hands shook. So James had not only shared their plans but painted her as some burden?
Later, in bed, James yawned. “Nice evening.”
“Was it?”
“Youre in a mood again. Sarahs a smart womanif shes got advice, why not take it?”
“Advice? She outright said we shouldnt have kids!”
“Maybe shes right. Look at our finances.”
“So you agree with her?”
“Im saying we should wait. Save up.”
“Wait how long? Im thirty!”
“Couple of years, maybe.”
“Couple of? And if I cant conceive by then?”
“Sarah had little Emily at thirty-seven. Its fine.”
There it was again. Sarah, Sarah, Sarah.
“Do you even want children, James?”
“Course. Just not yet.”
“Or ever, if your sister has her way.”
He spun round. “This isnt about Sarah! Its my decision!”
“Yours? Or hers?”
They slept back-to-back, Emilys mind racing. Was every choice he made filtered through Sarah?
Breakfast was worse. Little Emily piped up, “Auntie Em, why dont you have kids?”
Silence. James choked on his tea.
“Mum said you want a baby, but Uncle James doesnt,” the girl added innocently.
Sarah flushed. “Emily, dont be silly.”
“But you said it in the car! You told Dad Auntie Em wants kids, but Uncle James is scared youll run out of money!”
Emily stood abruptly. “You discussed this with your children?”
James finally spoke. “Sarah, youd better go.”
As they left, Emily packed a bag.
“Where are you going?” James demanded.
“To Mums. Maybe for good.”
“Over one row?”
“No. Over seven years of being the outsider in my own marriage.”
He followed her to the door. “Emily, waitI didnt mean”
“You said it plain enough: Sarahs family. Im just the woman you married.”
She didnt look back.
Six months later, the divorce was final. James didnt fight it.
At the supermarket once, she ran into Mrs. Wilkins. “Oh, love! Wheres that husband of yours?”
“We split up.”
“Ah, well. Always thought it odd, how he doted on that sister.”
Emily smiled. Even the neighbours had seen it.
“Found Archie, by the way. Locked in Mr. Thompsons shed, poor mite.”
“Glad to hear it.”
She walked home, lighter. Better alone than a stranger in your own life. Maybe one day shed meet someone whod choose her first. Until then? Shed choose herself.
**Lesson learned:** Love shouldnt make you compete for a place in someones heart. If youre not their priority from the start, you never will be.
