Emma sat in the armchair, staring at a lipstick. It wasnt hersshe never wore the stuff. And certainly not a shade of red that screamed «look at me!»
Once, shed found a long, dark hair on the headrest of the car. Emma had asked her husband about itafter all, she was a brunette with a sleek bob.
«Oh, that?» Tom had waved it off. «Remember yesterdays downpour? I spotted a woman with a toddler at the bus stop, so I gave them a lift. Turns out they live just round the corner from us.»
«Right,» she exhaled.
«Emma, are you jealous? What exactly are you accusing me of?»
«No, its just the hair.»
«Come here.» Tom pulled her into a hug. «You know youre the only one I love.»
And now this lipstick. Shed found it last night under the car mat after a trip through the self-service car wash. What was it doing there? Maybe Tom had given a colleague a lift? But the only woman at his work was Margaret, the office cleanera sweet, grey-haired pensioner who wouldnt be caught dead wearing such a shade.
Unpleasant thoughts crept in. Theyd been married seven years, and lately, Tom had been staying late at work, citing his new managerial role.
Emma studied herself in the mirror. At thirty, she still had no wrinklesjust a few faint laughter lines. Her bob suited her, and her figure was trim. Men still complimented her, though shed stopped bothering with eyeliner daily after tying the knot. Or maybe Tom just didnt notice anymore? Noshe had to know.
Her phone buzzed.
«Hi, love. Left work yet? Should I heat up dinner?»
«Sorry, running late. Just a couple more hours. Love you.»
The line went dead.
Emma dialled her best mate.
«Claire, can I borrow your car tonight? Toms working late, and I promised Mum Id drop off that fern.»
«No problem. Swing by.»
Downstairs, she grabbed Claires keys. In her bag was a Tupperware of leftovers. Shed swing by Toms officejust to check. If he was there, shed play the doting wife bringing dinner. If not well, shed think of something.
At his workplace, only a faint light glowed near reception. The security guard, old Mr. Dawson, shuffled to the door.
«Evening, Mrs. Carter. Your husband left at five sharp. Mightve just missed him.»
«Must have. I was visiting Mum and thought Id pop in. Cheers.»
Back in the car, she called Tom.
«Nearly done?»
«Another hour. Stop naggingthe sooner I finish, the sooner Im home.»
«Interesting. What exactly are you finishing?» she muttered. No doubt nowhe was lying.
That evening, she feigned a headache and locked herself in the bedroom. She couldnt face him. The betrayal burned, but without proof, shed sound paranoid.
The next day, she filed paperwork at HMRC, wrapped up her remote accounting jobs, and took three days off.
Back at Claires, she asked for the car again.
«Visiting Mum?» Claire smirked.
«Errands. My cars still in the shop.»
«Emma, whats really going on? Youre hiding something.»
She caved. «I think Toms cheating. I want to follow him.»
«Blimey. Im coming with you.»
By five, they were parked near Toms office. Fifteen minutes later, he emerged. Emma called.
«On your way home?»
«Yep. Just one quick stop first.»
Claire tailed him as he pulled up at a florist, then drove to a familiar neighbourhood. Emmas hands shook.
«This cant be happening,» she whispered.
«Who lives here?»
«Lucy. Our friend Marks ex-wife. They divorced two years agono explanation, just didnt work out. But Tom always said he hated women like her.»
«What kind?»
«Fake ones. Lash extensions, filler lips, sleeve tattoos. He claimed he preferred natural beauty. I dont even wear lipstick!»
«Maybe its not her?»
«Too many coincidences.»
Claire volunteered to check. She returned breathless.
«Hes there. Robe, bouquet on the table, mens shoes by the door.»
Emmas stomach lurched. «What do I do?»
«Your call. But if it were me? Hed be out on his ear tonight.»
And so he was. She packed his bags, scrawled in red lipstick on an A4 sheet: *»Best wishes with Lucy. Heres the lipstick shes missing,»* and stuck it in his bag.
When Tom arrived, she shoved his things onto the landing. He banged on the door until the neighbours threatened to call the police. Defeated, he left, texting: *»Meet me at The Rose & Crown tomorrow. 3 p.m. We need to talk.»*
Only then did Emma let the tears fall.
At the pub, Tom was already nursing a pint.
«Youre late,» he grumbled.
«Had to look my best for the occasion.»
«Emma, what the hell is this about?»
«I dont appreciate being lied to.» She slid her phone across the tablephotos of him leaving the florist, entering Lucys flat.
His face purpled. «You followed me?»
«Guilty. But at least now I know the truth. Heres the deal: we split the savings, sign the papers, and part ways. Oh, and does Mark know about you and his ex?»
«Thats none of his business.»
«Right. So why sneak around? No kids, no ties. Couldve just divorced me.»
Tom faltered. «Cowardice, I suppose. Youre comfortable. Lucys a whirlwind.»
Emma stood. «Good luck with that.»
The next day, they divided the money at the solicitors. Then Emma called Mark.
«I need your help.»
He arrived promptly.
«Wheres Tom?»
«At Lucys.» She laid it all out. «Mark, I want payback. But I need your sharp mind.»
«You want me involved in girl drama?»
«I know why you two divorced. Your sister told me Lucy had an affairand that miscarriage? Actually an abortion. Fancy getting even?»
His jaw tightened. «Howd you?»
«Your sister. I kept quiet because I didnt want to hurt you. But I also know who wiped your hard drive before that promotion. It was Tom. So partners?»
Mark exhaled. «Youre ruthless.»
The company gala was in two weeks. Emma booked a salon dayhair, nails, the works. She slipped into her favourite LBD and spritzed her signature scent.
Tom waited outside. «You look stunning.»
«Thanks. Lucy couldve ironed your shirt better.»
At the event, they schmoozed until Emma cornered the CEO.
«Mr. Whitaker, such a lovely evening. Though Im afraid after Toms business trip, well be filing for divorce.»
The CEOs smile froze. «Divorce? Tom, you never mentioned this!»
Tom spluttered. «Emma, what?»
«I couldnt keep lying. You value family men, and well I dont tolerate infidelity. Cheers!»
She fled to a taxi, Tom chasing her.
«What did you do?» he hissed, grabbing her arm.
«What you deserved. Marks handling the Prague deal now, by the way.»
A month later, the divorce was final. Mark returned as Deputy Director. Tom got demoted, then sackedwho better than Mark to expose his dodgy deals?
Tom and Lucy tried playing house, but it crumbled. Mark sold his half of her flat, leaving them scrambling. Their «business» flopped, drowning them in debt. Lucy sold her car; Tom moved back with his parents.
Meanwhile, Emma and Mark bought a cosy terraced house. A year later, their daughter arrived.
Karmas a funny thing, isnt it?
