When James returned from his business trip, he was as gloomy as a storm cloud—clearly, the negotiations had gone south. Emily hesitated to bring it up.
— Hey, darling, I made your favorite beet soup. Wash your hands and come to the table before it gets cold.
Her husband mechanically went to the bathroom, then sat down and absentmindedly stirred the broth with his spoon. Emily sat beside him and asked:
— Don’t you like what I cooked?
James snapped out of his daze, as if waking from a nap:
— No, not at all, you know I always love your cooking. I just don’t have an appetite today, and I’m not ready to talk about it. Sorry, I need some rest to clear my head.
He retreated to the bedroom, leaving Emily to pull his plate closer and add a dollop of sour cream. Suddenly, the phone rang:
— No, I can’t right now. Your offer’s tempting, but I’m really not up for it.
James was so lost in thought he didn’t even hear the call. Emily entered the bedroom and said loudly:
— James, I think we’re out of milk, and you don’t drink coffee without it in the morning. I’ll run to the store quick—you can nap while I’m gone.
Whether lulled by his wife’s sweet words or sheer exhaustion, James drifted off. Emily dressed, glanced at herself in the mirror as if she weren’t just heading to the store, quietly shut the door, and went downstairs. She was gone for nearly an hour and a half, as if she’d visited a warehouse instead of the corner shop.
When she returned, Emily tiptoed into the bedroom. James slept like an angel, not stirring even when she gently stroked his head. But in the middle of the night, he began whispering someone’s name, too softly for Emily to make it out. In the morning, as she saw him off to work, she casually asked:
— Listen, are you sure everything’s okay?
James flinched, as if shocked:
— What’s wrong? Am I acting strange? And what’s with these questions, especially first thing in the morning?
Emily realized he wasn’t ready to open up:
— Okay, I was just checking to make sure you’re alright. You didn’t even eat dinner last night, and that’s not like you. Maybe it’s time for a vacation? I’ll talk to Robert, and I’m sure he’ll let you take some time off.
James brushed her hand away and said:
— No, no need for that. We need the money right now, and we’ll rest some other time.
Emily noticed his pupils darting oddly, as if he were afraid of something. But who could be scaring him or causing such unease? She had no answers—nor did she know what to do if she had to tell him the truth.
Yes, Emily had her own secrets, but she wasn’t ready to share them. After James left for work, his mother, Margaret, dropped by.
To be honest, Emily wasn’t fond of her mother-in-law’s company. Margaret triggered a visceral distaste. Once, they were left alone in an electronics store while James and his father stepped away for business. Forced to tolerate each other, their bickering escalated over a vacuum cleaner they both wanted to buy. The argument got so heated that the manager removed the item from the shelf, declaring:
— That’s enough, I’ve heard plenty. This product is no longer for sale.
As the saying goes: neither for you, nor for me.
Now, as Margaret arrived, Emily sensed trouble but feigned delight:
— Hello, Margaret! What brings you here alone? Has Robert grown tired of escorting you?
Margaret gave her a piercing look and replied:
— Don’t be sarcastic, Emily—it makes you look worse. I’m here to find out what’s going on with our men. Robert was completely off after that trip. Have you noticed anything with James?
Emily felt a wave of relief:
— Well, aside from him skipping dinner and falling asleep quickly, I’d say nothing’s wrong. Though I did notice he looked exhausted. Do you think it’s work, or maybe the weather?
Margaret seemed to bristle:
— There you go again. Have you no conscience?
Emily pulled juice from the fridge:
— Throat’s a bit dry—want some? Come on, dear mother-in-law, our men always—or almost always—come back from trips in a foul mood. You know they handle serious business, no room for jokes or fun.
Margaret grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured herself some juice:
— I see you’ve got new earrings. Where’d they come from? Judging by the gemstones, they cost a pretty penny. Even I can’t afford those. Care to share whose money paid for that sparkle?
Emily broke a sweat under the question:
— Well, James gives me money sometimes, and I save it up. Recently, I saw a sale at the jewelry store and treated myself.
Margaret clearly wasn’t satisfied:
— Maybe, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you. And let me be clear: I know exactly how much James earns. Robert tells me everything, no secrets.
Margaret stood and paced a bit, while Emily, out of her sight, covered her mouth to hide a smile.
There was a reason: not long ago, when they all went shopping together, Robert had playfully smacked a saleswoman’s backside a couple of times. Naturally, Margaret didn’t notice, but Emily jokingly wagged her finger at him. Back in the kitchen, Margaret sat down:
— Fine, I won’t grill you—I don’t have the time. But if anything’s up, I’ll be the first to know, and my wrath will feel like divine punishment.
Emily saw her out, and as the door slammed shut, she sank to her knees and let out a heavy sigh. She’d dodged a bullet this time, but who knew what Margaret might cook up next? Emily was on thin ice, saved only by a miracle.
And Margaret wasn’t lying when she said James and Robert returned from their trip in low spirits.
A few days later, they rushed off for a fishing trip—so hastily they didn’t even share their destination. Emily seized the chance to take a break herself. As she hopped into a taxi, a dark sedan followed. She kept glancing at her phone, as if expecting a call. The sedan stayed close but never too near. Finally, the taxi dropped her at an address, and she hurried into an apartment building. Meanwhile, the sedan parked 20 meters away, its tinted windows hiding whoever was inside, like a spy in a movie.
An hour and a half later, Emily emerged, and soon another taxi picked her up. The sedan trailed at a distance, never losing sight. Back at her building, as Emily paid the driver, a familiar voice called out:
— Hold on, dear, we need to talk.
It was Margaret, swooping in at the worst possible moment. Emily froze:
— Oh, Margaret, perfect timing—just what I needed. What is it now? Checking if my clothes cost too much?
Margaret grabbed her sleeve and practically dragged her into the building:
— You’ll understand soon enough. I’m not blind.
A neighbor passed by on the stairs, and Margaret briefly held her tongue. But once inside the apartment, she continued:
— Did you think I’d buy your story about those earrings? I know you have a lover.
Emily trembled, stammering:
— How do you know? I mean, where’s this accusation coming from?
Margaret shot back:
— I saw you going to his place. Don’t tell me he’s just a friend.
Emily steadied herself:
— So that’s it—you’ve been spying on me? Aren’t you ashamed, dear mother-in-law? I looked up to you like a saint. By the way, what’s that necklace around your neck? Did Robert suddenly splurge?
Now Margaret flushed:
— Don’t dodge my question. I demand the truth. What I wear is none of your business.
It dawned on Emily that Margaret’s pursuit wasn’t random. Her words—“going to his place, just a friend”—hinted at a deeper connection to this lover. Emily was caught, but now she needed to spin it in her favor.
Margaret kept glaring, but Emily, thinking fast, dropped a bombshell:
— So, maybe Robert didn’t give you that necklace?
Margaret lowered her head and whispered:
— No, it wasn’t him. I got it from my friend. Or rather, our friend. We’re both his victims.
Emily’s jaw dropped:
— You’re saying you’re cheating on your husband? And to think you accused me!
Margaret pulled her chair closer:
— Yes, I sinned, but you’re no angel either. We’re both unfaithful wives.
Emily burst into laughter:
— Talk about a family affair—couldn’t get worse! What do we do now? I can’t tell James I’m cheating, and I bet you don’t want to upset Robert either.
Margaret nodded:
— I knew you were meeting a lover at that house. Greg and I go way back—he’s so charming and attentive. You get it; I’m starved for male attention. Robert’s always working or traveling. But you’re not exactly drowning in affection either. And something else worries me: our men are acting strange.
Emily frowned:
— What do you mean? We talked about their exhaustion. I’m used to it, and I doubt it bothers you much. Especially now that we’re sisters in crime. A mother-in-law and daughter-in-law sharing a lover? No one would believe it.
Margaret waved her off:
— Don’t even think about spilling this, or you’ll regret it.
They agreed to cover for each other. Astonishingly, they didn’t stop seeing Greg—he became their shared lifeline.
A week later, James was packing for another business trip, muttering:
— Gotta wrap up these deals, or we’ll lose investors. But there’s a chance for a big contract.
He seemed almost cheerful, as if the gloom from his last trip had lifted. Robert, his father and the company’s director, was the same—both gearing up for another work trip.
That evening, when James called to say he was fine, Margaret stopped by. She looked far from friendly:
— I’m worried, Emily. My heart’s uneasy. What if Robert suspects something?
Emily calmed her, handing her a glass of water:
— Stop fretting; no one knows anything. While our men are gone, how about a spa retreat to soothe our nerves?
Margaret’s smile showed she liked the idea:
— You’re right, but forget the spa—let’s go to the coast. Robert let slip their trip’s three weeks long, and he left me plenty of cash to splurge.
Emily fetched a jewelry box from the bedroom:
— Look, James left me some money too. They’re acting odd—I don’t like it.
But Margaret was already dreaming of the sea:
— Oh, we’re gonna have fun, Emily.
Three days later, they’d booked flights and headed to Miami. Upon arrival, they checked into a hotel, grabbed their swimsuits, and hit the beach. Despite the crowd, they found spots. Emily applied sunscreen to her back, then helped Margaret.
But then Margaret turned, her voice trembling:
— They’re here. The business trip was a cover.
Emily peeked over her shoulder and nearly choked:
— Those jerks—we trusted them.
Margaret grabbed her hand:
— And we’re any better? We’re no saints. We have to do something, or we’ll keep lying to each other.
They went all in. Emily crept toward where James and Robert lounged with other women, who gasped in shock:
— How are you here? You’re supposed to be home!
Emily didn’t back down:
— Same way you ended up here—craving warmth and affection, I guess.
Margaret joined, and it was clear a serious talk was inevitable. Emily confessed her infidelity to James, who apologized in return. Robert did the same. They decided not to destroy their families—realizing that understanding and resolving issues didn’t require drastic measures.
Emily and James are still together, while Robert has grown even more attentive to Margaret.
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