Playing with Fire
Mate, youre joking, Thomas threw his head back, nearly laughing himself sick. You actually said that to her face? In front of everyone?
What else was I supposed to do? James drummed his fingers on the desk, nerves showing. Im married. And she wouldnt back offgot bolder every day. The whole departments been whispering.
Christ, youre too soft for your own good, Thomas teased. Most blokesd take the chance, but not youMr. Upright.
Weve got different ideas about loyalty, James shot back, though exhaustion flickered in his eyes. At first, it was just hints. I ignored itdidnt want to be rude or make a scene.
And that, my friend, was your mistake, Thomas said, raising a brow. Your silence encouraged her. Gave her false hope.
What does she even want from me? Plenty of single blokes around!
For women like her, a wedding rings not a stop signits a challenge, Thomas said dryly. Proof youre a quality catch.
Sophie blew into their office like a sudden spring gale. She wasnt classically beautifulsharp cheekbones, a low, raspy voicebut when she smiled, the room seemed to shift. HR later admitted theyd been ready to reject her until that smile changed their minds.
At first, James genuinely liked her. Her energy and wit were a breath of fresh air in their dull corporate grind. He helped her settle in, shared advice. To him, it was just kindnessno hidden meaning. A devoted family man, he saw her as a bright colleague, almost a younger sister.
But then boundaries blurred. Her jokes turned suggestive, her touches lingered. James, an introvert allergic to confrontation, froze. His usual moral compass spun wildly. He started avoiding her, skipping lunches. But retreat only spurred her on.
***
James was mid-thirties, the sort of man who kept his life meticulously ordered. Tall but slightly stooped, as if trying to shrink. Dark hair, neatly trimmed but already streaked with premature greygenes plus stress. Calm eyes, but with a tired edge, as if constantly wrestling something inside. He wore thin-framed glasses, which hed remove and rub the bridge of his nose when tense. His clothes were practical: muted shirts, tailored trousers. No flash.
James hated crowds. Flirting, office politicsit all felt like a foreign, draining language. He thrived in quiet, order, deep focus. Conflict terrified him; hed sooner retreat than fight.
Yet beneath that, an unshakable core: his family. Emma and the kids werent just part of his lifethey were his purpose. His loyalty wasnt virtue; it was as natural as breathing.
Sophie wanted him from day one precisely because he didnt react to her usual tricks. Seducing him wasnt about male attentionit was about proving, to herself and the world, that she was irresistible. Conquering a married man? That was the ultimate trophy. If a good man fell for her, she must be worth something. And experience told her no perfect family man was truly happy.
Two weeks in, Sophie gushed to her friend Lily about her feelings. Lily listened, uneasy.
Another married one? Sophie, stop. Hes got two kids.
Oh, details! Hes miserableI can tell. Trapped in some golden cage. His wife Emma she doesnt get him. Just keeps him comfortable while his soul screams for freedom!
How do you even know that? Have you met her?
I dont need to! I see him. So bloody proper, so buttoned-up Thats not normal. Theres pain underneath. Hes scared to admit it. I want to help himfree him.
Soph, you sound like a bad romance novel. You dont want to help. You want him because hes off-limits. This isnt a gameits his life!
You dont understand, Lily. This is my life. Were meant to be. Hes lost. That perfect family? Bet its all a front. Nothings perfect. And Ill prove it.
***
A work trip to Manchester became Jamess nightmare. Guess who volunteered to join? With clients, Sophie was professionalism itself, and James nearly relaxed. Then, late one night, a knock.
My rooms freezing, Sophie said, wrapped in a robeclearly nothing beneath.
Jamess stomach dropped. Panic clawed his throat. He pictured Emmas trusting eyes.
Hang onIll grab you a blanket, he muttered, turning away. Here.
Sophie pouted but took it.
Youve locked yourself in a cage and thrown the key away, she said, leaving. Pity. Theres a different man under thereI know it.
James shut the door, forehead pressed against it, pulse roaring. Relief and pity twisted in his gutfor her, for himself, for the mess.
Back at the office, Sophie seemed to forget him. James exhaled. Then, weeks later, she asked for a lift home. He refused.
Am I that repulsive?
Youre brilliant, James said. But I love my wife. Ive got a family
So thats the only reason? Her eyes gleameddangerous.
No He fumbled for gentle words, but she was gone. He regretted his hesitation instantly.
That night, a sharp jab woke him. Emmas furious whisper cut through the dark.
James, have you lost your mind? Who sends photos like this at midnight?
He sat up, heart hammering. On his phone: Sophie, barely covered in lace.
Em, its not what you think! Voice cracking, he confessed everything.
Emma was silent, then sighed.
You daft, trusting sod, she said, equal parts anger and fondness. Fine. I believe youbecause I know youd never be that stupid. But warn her: if this happens again, Ill storm that office and give everyone a show they wont forget.
James nodded. Next day, he called Sophie into a meeting room. She entered, glowing, expecting surrender.
Sophie, youve crossed a line, he said, steadying his voice.
Oh, relax, she purred, reaching for his cheek. She doesnt deserve you.
James recoiled. Her hand hung mid-air.
Whats that supposed to mean?
Your perfect life is a lie, she hissed. From the outside, its a picture: loving wife, little princess daughter, heir son
Were happy.
Wake up, James! She loomed over the desk. Your son looks nothing like you! Your daughters your twin, but Harry? Not a trace!
James went cold. He stared at her triumphant face, pity evaporating.
And I can prove it, she slapped a printout on the desk. Paternity probability: 0%. Handy having connections, eh? Believe me now?
James met her eyes. The anger hed buried finally surfacedicy, clear.
I tolerated your advances. But my kids? Off-limits. Harrys not my blood son. Thats mine and Emmas business. But since youre so keen on digging: his parentsEmmas sister and her husbanddied. Hes ours now. Happy? Satisfied?
Sophie paled. I didnt know
Neither do I know how you got that testif its even real. I thought you were just lonely. Now I see youre toxic. Resign by tonight, or I go to the police. And if you ever come near my children His quiet tone turned lethal. You wont need the police.
Sophie quit that day. James came home early, hugging Harrybuilding Legoand Miadoing homeworktight, breathing in their familiar scents.
That night, he sat opposite Emma.
We need to tell him, James said softly. Harry deserves the truth from usnot strangers.
Emmas eyes wellednot with grief, but relief. Im scared.
Me too. But well do it together.
A week later, over cake, James knelt to Harrys height.
Remember, familys what matters? And it comes in all sorts. Harry Im not your birth dad. Your first parents were Mummys sister and her husbandthey were wonderful, but theyre gone. Were your parents by choice. By heart.
Harry paused, then hugged them and asked for more cake. The weight lifted. In the crumbs and quiet chatter, Sophies shadow vanished. Everything settledjust as it should.
