There was no turning back now.
It seemed life had split into two uneven parts for James Whitmore: before Eliza and after. But as he stood before the locked door of his own home, he understood there was a third chapter”after the after.” And it was empty.
At thirty-seven, James was a well-respected figure in the beauty industry, owned a house and a flat in London, and had long since stopped worrying about money. Yet none of it had saved his marriage.
They had met when he was twenty-two. Emilyjust seventeen, fresh out of school, with timid dreams of universitywas breathtakingly beautiful, and he had fallen for her instantly. But when, a year later, she told him she was pregnant, his first reaction was fear.
“Maybe not yet?” he had asked carefully, avoiding her gaze. “Youve only just started studying.”
“Ill think about it,” she murmured.
But there was nothing left to think aboutwhether from inexperience or intent, Emily had missed the deadlines. Her parents came to meet the father of their grandchild, polite but distant, demanding nothing. Only as they left did her father mutter through clenched teeth, “Dont worry, well raise the child ourselves.”
Guilt and a dormant sense of duty drove James to propose anyway. He married without joy, only a vague feeling that it was the right thing to do.
The first years were a struggle. He was still finishing his studies; she stayed home with the baby. Once he started working, money was tight, and they relied on grandparents for help. Emily never complained. Before even graduating, she found part-time work.
“Why?” James asked, bewildered. “That pittance wont even cover mascara! Our daughters only twoshes barely seen you between nursery and her grandparents!”
“Then earn more!” she snapped, steel in her voice for the first time. “Get a job at a private clinic!”
“With my experience? They wouldnt even hire me to mop floors!”
Emily never asked for anything for herself, but her grievances grew: James didnt help at home, didnt spend time with their daughter, didnt provide enough. The classic strain of a young couple scraping by in the capital.
After graduating, she was hired full-time and shot up the career ladderlate nights, business trips, corporate events. The house grew empty. James, in turn, spent more time with their daughter, telling himself, “Its just a phaseshell settle down soon.” But she didnt. It was as if Emily avoided home on purpose.
One evening, as she cooked, James wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “Lets have another. A son.”
Emily stiffened, then gently pulled away. “Start earning properly first. Then well talk.”
It was during those cold, loveless nights that Eliza entered his lifea young, cheerful, undemanding assistant from a nearby department. She adored him, laughed at his jokes, was warm and easy. She became his escape. He seriously considered leaving, held back only by thoughts of his daughter.
Years later, when James was finally earning well, the unthinkable happened. His wife brought up a second child herself.
“On one condition,” he said firmly, confident in his finances. “Family comes first. Work second. Ill provide.”
Emily agreed. She conceived almost immediately and transformed. The house smelled of baking again; warmth returned. James was relievedbut still snuck off with Eliza to the seaside, pretending it was a business trip. Eliza knew nothing of the pregnancy. Classic deceptionhe had assured her he and his wife slept in separate rooms.
Then Eliza grew strangetoo much perfume, sudden tears, glances at his phone.
“How are things at home?” she asked casually one day.
“Same as always,” he dismissed.
Then came the visit. Emily arrived at his office for the first time in years, dropping off forgotten documents. Eliza saw the swell of her belly. The moment Emily left, the storm broke.
“You knew! You knew and said nothing!” Eliza shrieked, loud enough for three floors to hear.
“About what? Calm down!”
“I wrote to your wife! A month ago! I told her everything!”
James demanded proof. She resisted, but he wrested her phone away. The message stunned him: “James and I have been in love for ages He deserves real warmth Dont stand in our way”
Emilys reply: “Alright, Eliza.”
That was all.
Now he understood Elizas odd behaviourshe had expected a reaction, while he remained oblivious. Because Emily had acted perfectly normal, living with a cheating husband for over a month without a word.
He ended things with Eliza on the spot, told her to find another jobhe hadnt expected such betrayal. She sobbed, begged, but the man she loved wouldnt abandon his family.
That evening, he confessed. Emily sat drinking tea in the kitchen.
“You knew?” he asked, heart pounding.
She looked up, surprised. “About that girl? You were really with her? I thought it was a scam or a crush. Didnt think it was serious. If it is, youre free to leave.”
She asked him to move out. He refused”Were having a baby!”swore it was over. He stayed in the guest room. Emily asked no questions but never truly reconciled, speaking only when necessary. She gave birth prematurely, with complications. James took leave to help, showered her with gifts, dedicated all his time to the family. He adored his son.
A year and a half later, he thought the nightmare was overthat she had forgiven him. Then she announced she was returning to work.
“We had a deal!” he snapped. “Family first! Henrys barely twowait till hes older! We have the money!”
“That deal,” she said coldly, “belonged to our life before Eliza.”
James surrendered. Emily went back to work. A nanny came. Life became a blur of calls, petty fights, brief truces.
Then, last year, he ran into Eliza. Memories flooded back; they had coffee. She was still alone, still sweet. Guilt and foolish pride made him offer her a joba friend needed an assistant. She accepted.
A week later, they were back where they started.
The end came six months later. At a birthday party, his friend, drunk and effusive, praised his new assistant:
“Elizas brilliantgolden hands, easygoing, efficient. Dont know how I managed without her. Cheers, James, for finding her!”
He had no idea of their affair. Emily smiled, nodded, said nothing. A week later, she handed James a stack of printoutsmessages, screenshots, photos.
“Move out,” she said simply. “If you dont, I willwith the children.”
He left. Within a week, he longed to return. He brought toys for the kids, huge bouquets for Emily. She accepted the gifts for the children with polite indifference; the flowers went by the door, like a forgotten umbrella.
One night, he found her alone.
“Just tell me what to do to earn your forgiveness. Ill fix everything. I dont want anyone but you. Elizas gone.”
Emily looked at him blankly.
“You still dont understand, do you? Eliza doesnt matter. You broke us years ago, when you asked if I wanted an abortion. You married me out of guilt, endured me, while I wanted to be loved. All this time, I tried to be good enoughpretty enough, successful enough, the perfect wife. But you, James, only ever wanted someone easy, warm, and uncomplicated. Im tired of trying. Leave.”
He stepped outside, and it hit him. His wife hadnt nursed bitterness all these years. Emily had simply stopped loving him long ago. Her silence after Elizas letter wasnt forgiveness. It was a sentence, passed quietly, without drama. And all this time, she had been waiting for him to read it.
