Emily, weve been together fifteen years. How could he do this? How?
Emma sobbed on the shoulder of her best mate, Lucy, and couldnt settle down.
Em, youre overthinking it. What makes you think hes cheating?
I know it. I feel it. I called his office they said there was no meeting that day, but he told me he was in one.
Just that? Love, he could have gone shopping for you, you silly thing. Youre just worn out by the everyday grind and inventing drama that isnt there. Calm down. Andrew loves you and does everything for the family.
No, he has someone else. Im sure of it. I wanted to check his phone, but he started taking it everywhere
See? Youre making it up. Sneaking a phone check is demeaning. You deserve better. Youre brilliant, gorgeous, and Andrew loves you he doesnt need anyone else.
Emily sniffed, rubbed her nose, and clung to Lucys words. Maybe Lucy was right. Who else could Emma trust but her closest friend, the one whos always looked out for her?
Emma and Lucy had been inseparable since primary school sharing lessons, exams, first dates, university life, and endless talks about the future. Lucy was bold, knew exactly what she wanted, and could chat up anyone. Emma, on the other hand, was quiet and shy. Lucys lovelife was a revolving door; she swapped suitors like gloves, always hunting for the right one to prove she was worth it. She dreamed of a rich bloke who could take care of her without her ever having to work.
Emma knew she wasnt going to land a millionaire any time soon, so she relied on herself. While Lucy flitted from cafés to cosmetic stores, Emma buried herself in the university library. She was the classic plain Jane muted clothes, hair tied back in a low ponytail, no makeup, striking blue eyes hidden behind thick tortoiseshell glasses. Her classmates could never work out why the campus beauty queen and the topgrade nerd got along so well.
Em, men notice looks. Lets get you something pretty lighter hair, darker brows. Youll turn heads.
I dont want that. Men only notice beauty. Folks like me get ignored, they look right past us. I cant rely on looks, only on my brain. So I study and then I work.
Lucy just shrugged and kept chasing dates, but her hunt yielded nothing. Emma stayed focused on her studies, never expecting fate to hand her anything until it actually did.
In the Underground she met Andrew. He helped her lug a stack of books, they struck up a chat. He was in his final year of economics, and his dad had already lined up a junior post for him at a government department. The role was modest but promising. They swapped numbers, started texting, spent weekends together, sometimes catching a film or sharing a rare coffee they didnt have the cash for frequent outings.
Lucy was skeptical about Emmas romance. He has no prospects, she said.
Why would you bother? Hell be stuck in that department forever, shuffling paperwork. Youll just be saving for a flat, a holiday, a car. Boring.
Its a steady, happy life with someone you love. You just want a fairytale with a prince and a million pounds.
Lucy waved it off. She worked at a law firm a maledominated environment and strutted in sleek dresses with daring necklines and skyhigh heels, like a runway model. Soon she started dating the head of one of the firms departments, thinking shed finally snagged a dream. He drove a pricey car, lived in a posh suburb, wore a luxury watch, and had no apparent flaws.
Meanwhile, Emma and Andrew married, and, as Lucy put it, slid into a dull but contented routine. Emma became a solicitor; Andrew disappeared into his department from dawn till dusk. The job was monotonous at first, then his career took off, and he moved into private business, eventually launching his own venture and becoming the very prospective man Lucy had chased for years.
After a few years Emma went on maternity leave, gave birth to two boys a couple of years apart, and slipped into the endless cycle of caring for the kids. Andrew insisted she stay home the house needs a mum, the kids need a mum. Their old university mates had drifted away, leaving Lucy as Emmas only constant. Lucy didnt have children, so she couldnt help with Emmas brood, but she knew everything about shopping, beauty treatments, and the newest cafés. She often whisked Emma away for a coffee and cake. Lucy, single and childfree, had plenty of time for retail therapy, spa days, friend catchups, and the gym.
Emma and Andrew lived in a large, beautiful house in the countryside, while Lucy squeezed into a onebedroom flat on the outskirts of town a place shed managed to buy years ago thanks to a few generous exflings. She worked as a legal advisor for a construction company, but her earnings never quite covered all her wants. From time to time Emma lent Lucy money, and Lucy promised to pay back, sometimes forgetting, and Emma never nagged. How do you remind a best friend about debt without sounding petty?
When Emma hinted to Andrew that maybe she should return to work the boys were a bit older, the chores fewer he pushed back. We have enough money, and the house runs on my steady income. Youre a great wife, but youve become convenient. Whenever Emma broached the subject, Andrew grew irritated. He never liked Lucy, calling her a bad influence, accusing her of pulling Emma away from him.
How can you be friends with her, Em? Shes frivolous, no family, no kids. She flits around like a dragonfly, confusing you.
Shes my friend. Weve known each other since school. Were different, but she gets me.
Youre different. She drags you into useless chats. Spend time with the lads in the park, not in cafés listening to her gossip about new suitors.
Emma brushed those comments aside and kept her friendship with Lucy. Occasionally shed tell Lucy about Andrews remarks; Lucy just shrugged and told her to ignore it.
One autumn afternoon, the two friends went shopping. The sun was bright, a crisp breeze. Lucy tried on a sleek black dress in the fitting room while Emma perched on a stool.
Got it! Lets pick something for you too. Youll wow Andrew tonight.
Do I really need that?
When was the last time you bought a nice dress?
Too long ago. My size isnt there anymore; Ive put on a few pounds.
Dont be silly. Everything will fit.
In the end they left with that black dress, which hugged Emmas figure just right and hid her insecurities. For the first time in years she looked at herself in the mirror with a spark of pride. She rushed home, eager to show Andrew, hoping for compliments hed never given before.
Andrew, look. What do you think?
After dinner he was glued to his phone. Emma stepped out of the bathroom in the dress, feeling a little out of place jeans and cosy sweaters were more her style and didnt know where to put her hands.
Whats that? he asked, finally looking up.
My new dress. Lucy and I bought it today. Like it?
No. Its way too daring, and it doesnt suit you. It makes your hips look bigger.
Emma stayed silent.
I told you, Lucy wont teach you anything good. How could you even think of buying that?
She lowered her head, still quiet.
I think you should stop wearing it and stop seeing your flaky friend. Return it to the shop before its too late.
His tone was icy, almost hostile. He went back to his phone, and Emma slipped into the bathroom, turned on the tap, and wept.
The next morning was business as usual: breakfast, sending the kids off to school, a quick chat with Andrew. No one mentioned the dress again, and Emma convinced herself Andrew was right.
But the tension kept building. Small fights, misunderstandings, and a growing distance crept in. Emma confided in Lucy that Andrew seemed withdrawn, as if she were in his way. Lucy brushed it off, insisting his new project kept him busy. Andrews meetings stretched into the night, weekend trips became common, and though his explanations were logical, Emma couldnt shake the feeling that something else occupied his mind.
Then one day, while Emma was strolling through the town centre with the kids, she passed a chic restaurant with floortoceiling windows. Inside, at a table by the window, she saw Andrew laughing, holding Lucys hand, leaning in to whisper something. Lucys laughter was contagious, and they looked like a pictureperfect couple. Emma stood frozen, eyes glued to the scene, unable to look away.
Later, Andrew noticed his wife, and Lucy did too. They stared at Emma, but didnt leave the restaurant.
Emma couldnt remember how she got back to the car, how long the drive home took, or how long she sat in the dark living room. She didnt want to switch the lights on. Nothing felt right.
Andrew came home late that night. Emma sat motionless on the sofa. He sat opposite her, silence hanging heavy.
How long has this been going on? Emma finally asked.
Two years, Andrew said. Emily, Im going to marry her.
Fine, thanks for telling me. Why her?
Shes stunning, she gets me. Every day with her feels like a celebration.
And me? Am I not a celebration?
Im tired of the endless house chores, tired of how you look now. Who have you become?
Ive given birth to our children, kept the house running, tried to make life comfortable. I get exhausted too.
Youre not the only one stuck at home. Other women stay fit, look after themselves. Look at yourself in the mirror. I want a partner Im proud to show off.
So Im a disgrace?
Yes, Emily. I cant live like this any longer.
Andrew moved out the next morning. A few days later Lucy called, apologising and explaining. Emma listened, then said, Yeah, Lucy, you were right at university. Men are visual, and my Andrew proved it.
Andrew and Lucys fling fizzled quickly. He soon missed the simple comforts of his old life homecooked meals, evening TV, lazy Saturday breakfasts. He realized hed run away with a suitcase, leaving behind the routine hed once loved.
But Emma, hurt as she was, wasnt going to forgive the double betrayal.
