**Diary Entry 18th March**
Decided to surprise my husband todaycame back from visiting Mum three hours early. Stepped through the front door and couldnt hold back the tears.
Emma had been staring out the train window, thinking about her mother. Three days shed spent at her bedside, spooning her broth, doling out medicine. The fever had only broken yesterday.
*You couldve stayed another day,* Mum had said that morning.
*James is home alone, Mum. Probably starving by now.*
Now, swaying in her seat, she wished shed listened. But James had called every eveningasked after Mum, complained about the empty fridge. His voice had sounded odd. Tired, maybe.
*Miss you,* hed murmured last night before bed.
Emma had smiled then. Thirty-two years married, and he still missed her. Good man, he was.
The train rattled on. The woman opposite cracked sunflower seeds, nose buried in a crime novel. On the cover, a glamorous woman clung to a suited man. Emma glanced at her reflection in the glasswrinkles, grey roots creeping in. When had she aged so much?
*Meeting your husband?* the woman asked.
*Yes. Heading home.*
*Im off to see my lover,* she laughed. *Husband thinks Im at my sisters.*
Emma flushed and turned away. How could anyone speak so brazenly?
Her phone buzzed.
*Hows Mum? Whens your train?* James had texted.
She checked the time. Four hours until home. Started to reply honestly, then stopped. Let it be a surprise. Shed cook dinner. Hed be thrilled.
*Tomorrow morning. Miss you too,* she sent back.
James hearted the message instantly.
Fields and cottages blurred past. Emma unscrewed her thermosMum had insisted she take tea and sandwiches. Still fussing like she was a child.
*Youve gone thin, love. Bet that James doesnt notice what you eat.*
*Mum, Im fifty-seven.*
*And? Youll always be my girl.*
Chewing her ham sandwich, Emma thought of Mum alone in that house, where shed grown up. Dad had passed five years ago. Mum refused to move in with them.
*Youve your own life,* shed say. *Dont need me underfoot.*
Emma loved caring for people. Always had. Parents first, then James, then the kids. Taught primary school until Tom was born, then stayed home. Then Lily came. Somehow, decades slipped bycooking, cleaning, ironing shirts, stitching socks.
The kids were grown now. Tom worked up in Leeds, had his own family. Lily married, a grandma herself. And Emma? What came next?
The train slowed. She gathered her things, bid the smirking stranger farewell. The platform was chaos. The bus home took half an hour.
She pictured Jamess face when she walked in. Hed think she was due tomorrow. Maybe shed stop at Tescoget good meat, fresh potatoes. Set the table proper.
The cashier grinned as she bagged groceries. *Celebrating something?*
*Just spoiling my husband.*
The bags weighed a ton. She lugged them to the lift, fumbled for her keys. Finally shoved the door open.
*James! Im back!* she called.
Silence. Asleep, probably. Nearly ten.
She dumped the shopping, hung her coat. Lights were onodd. James never slept with them on.
Then she saw them. Shoes. Black patent heels, elegant, by the door. Not hers.
*James?* Her pulse spiked. Maybe Lilys? But why wouldnt she warn her?
A womans laugh trickled from the kitchen. Not Lilys.
Emma froze.
*James, youre hilarious,* the voice purred.
*Emmas not back till tomorrow. No rush,* James replied.
She leaned against the wall, legs jelly. Who was this?
Creeping down the hall, she peered through the kitchen door. James sat there, hair mussed, grinning. Opposite hima blonde, thirty-ish, in *her* dressing gown.
Coffee cups. Cake. His hand on hers.
*Jen, youre incredible,* he murmured.
*Jen?*
*But your wife You said you loved her,* the woman simpered.
*I do. This is different. With you, I feel young again.*
Emma gripped the doorframe. Thirty-two years. Thirty-two years of trust, and this
*James,* she whispered.
They whipped around. He paled. The blonde*Jen*sprang up, tightening the gown.
*Emma? You said tomorrow*
*Who. Is. This?*
*Jen. Neighbour. Flat 52.*
*Neighbour?* Emma stared at the woman in her robe. *Drinking coffee in my kitchen? In my things?*
*Ill go,* Jen muttered, edging toward the door.
*Stop!* Emmas voice cracked. *Explain this!*
Jen halted, guilty but not repentant. *We just talked. James fixed my tap.*
*In my dressing gown?*
*Em, calm down,* James pleaded. *Jen needed help. We had coffee. Thats all.*
*Four hours of coffee?*
He sweated, stammered.
*Tell me the truth.*
*Six months,* he admitted.
The room spun. *Six months* of kisses goodnight, *I love you*s, while he
She grabbed her coat.
*Emma, stay! Well talk tomorrow*
*Talk to Jen. About *life*.*
The door slammed.
Rain soaked her as she ran. Nowhere to goLilys? Too late. Mums? Last train gone.
She rang Sarah, her oldest friend.
*Em? Whats wrong?*
*Can I come over?*
Sarah brewed tea, listened, then spat one word: *Bastard.*
*I dont know what to do.*
*Divorce him.*
*Thirty-two years*
*Which hes taken for granted.*
Dawn came. James called nonstop. She ignored him. By evening, he stood on Sarahs doorstep, rumpled, desperate.
*Its over with Jen. I swear.*
Emma studied himthe receding hairline, the paunch. Pathetic.
*James, Im fifty-seven. Maybe its time I lived for *me*.*
*Were family*
*Family respects each other.*
She asked for space. Time to think. To find a job, see the world, remember who she was beyond wife, mother, caretaker.
He left, promising to fight for her. Sarah squeezed her shoulder. *Brave.*
Rain tapped the window. Emma smiled for the first time in days.
Tomorrow, shed hunt for work. Visit Mum. Maybe James would change. Maybe shed find she didnt need him at all.
One lesson seared itself into her bones: *Live for yourself, too.* Not just for others.
