This winter really showed off big time, with loads of snow turning the yards and streets into proper fairy tale scenes. Fluffy white flakes kept swirling around in the air, gently settling on roofs and paths, and that frost gave everything this crisp, clear feel, you know?
In the flat where Emily and James lived, it was a totally different story all warm and peaceful inside. Outside the big window that snowy display was playing out, but with the glass shut tight it felt snug and calm. The table lamp was casting this soft, muted glow that pushed back the winter chill.
The pair had got settled on the sofa, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. On the telly some family comedy was on, nothing deep, just something to chuckle at and unwind with. Emily was watching properly, now and then smiling faintly at thoughts of her own. James sat beside her, leaning back relaxed, watching too, but his eyes kept wandering to the snow falling outside. It looked stunning.
A nice ringtone cut through the calm James’s phone going off. He didn’t jump to answer straight away, like he didn’t want to break up this quiet time together, but it rang again. With a small sigh he fished the smartphone from his pocket, checked the screen and sighed once more.
“It’s Charlie again,” he told his wife. “Third time tonight.”
Emily turned her head slightly his way but kept her eyes on the telly.
“Probably asking us over to the cottage again,” she said calmly. “He bought the place and wants to mark it. For some reason this bloke just won’t take no for an answer.”
James swiped to answer.
“Yeah, Charlie, hi,” he said, keeping his voice light.
“James! When are you heading over?” His friend’s voice was full of energy. “I said we’re celebrating the buy! All set: the hot tub’s warmed up, table’s laid, mates are on their way. Stop sitting in all night, eh? Bring Emily, it’ll be a laugh!”
James paused, thinking. He glanced at Emily, who gave the tiniest head shake. She stayed quiet but he got the message loud and clear: loud nights out, blasting music, non-stop talk and fuss just didn’t fit what they wanted right now. Both of them fancied a quiet weekend in their own cozy space, no rushing about or explaining themselves to anyone.
He waited a beat before replying, then a thought hit him and he used it.
“Listen,” he started low, “thing is… Emily’s popped to her mum’s for a couple days. Don’t fancy going solo, you understand. Someone might say the wrong thing to her… Don’t want a row with the wife over nothing. We’ll catch up sometime, just later.”
Short silence on the line, then Charlie sounded properly surprised.
“Gone? When’s she back?”
“Tomorrow evening,” James said, a bit of a wistful note in there. “She decided on the spur. We’d made all these plans too! Cinema, walk in the park while the weather held, maybe even the ice rink. Didn’t work out though. So another time, yeah?”
Charlie stayed quiet a moment, like mulling it over, then his voice came back oddly pleased.
“Alright then… But let me know the second she’s back. Really want to see you two!”
“Sure,” James said quick. “Soon as I can, I’ll ring. Maybe next weekend? If nothing shifts.”
He said his goodbyes, dropped the phone on the table between the chairs and breathed out in relief. A little smirk crept onto his face.
“Phew, just managed to dodge that,” he muttered, turning to Emily. “What’s with him being so pushy? I made it plain I didn’t want the cottage! What’d we even do there? Sit watching them get plastered? Charlie only knows one way to unwind! Anyway, forget it. Much prefer time just with you.”
He pulled her in, the tension from those minutes easing off. The flat stayed warm and still, snowflakes drifting slow outside, and their favourite film kept going on the telly slow and comfy, nothing like those noisy dos James couldn’t stand.
Emily leaned against him, feeling his body heat and steady breathing. The room kept that snug air: lamp’s soft light, the unhurried black and white film on screen, quiet clock ticking on the wall. It all gave this safe, peaceful feeling the daily grind usually took away.
“Me too,” she said soft, lifting her head to meet his eyes. “Let’s just finish the film and head to bed. Nothing else needed.”
James smiled, holding her shoulders firmer. He was already imagining turning the lights off in a bit, getting under the warm duvet and drifting off to the far-off sound of wind in the snow. But another call interrupted. And yep, same number.
James frowned, shot the screen a quick look and reached for the phone reluctantly. What now?
“Charlie, I already told you…” he started, aiming for calm but tension creeping in.
“James,” Charlie’s voice came unusually serious, even tight, “I’m at the Crystal Club, we decided on a proper night with the lads before the cottage. And then… there’s Emily. With some bloke. They’re drinking, she’s all over him. Didn’t want to step in, but… you ought to know. She said she was off to her mum’s! So she must’ve lied!”
James froze. He looked at his wife surprised, then back at the screen, wondering if his mate was having him on.
“What?” he asked back, doubt clear in his tone. “You sure? Maybe mixed her up with someone else? I know for a fact where my wife is!”
“Absolutely,” Charlie said solid, no doubt at all. “She’s already drunk, laughing loud. Looks… well, not great, if I’m honest. And she’s not even fussed I’m there! Just brushes me off! Want me to hand her the phone?”
James shut his eyes a moment, sorting his head. Questions were whirling but no answers. What on earth was this? How could his friend get it so wrong? Or was something else going on?
“Alright, go on,” he said short, switching to speaker. He was curious now what he’d hear.
Muffled club bass came through, mixed with laughs and jumbled voices. Then a woman’s voice cut in so like Emily’s it made James’s heart lurch.
“Hello? Who’s calling?” it said, a bit hesitant, like she didn’t clock straight away she was answering.
James swallowed, trying to ease the dry feeling in his throat. He looked at Emily beside him, eyes wide, clearly lost.
“Emily?” he said, keeping steady. “It’s James. What’s happening?”
A short laugh, then the voice again, bolder now with a bit of a rasp:
“Oh James, you’re boring me! I want to have some fun, alright? Sick of your dull life. Gonna party till I can’t be bothered!”
Emily shot up from the sofa, face gone pale. She pressed a hand to her chest like calming her heart and whispered so quiet:
“What nonsense! How could he mix me up with someone? And how does she know your name? What’s going on here at all?”
“Where are you?”
“None of your business,” the voice snapped back, challenging. “I’m your wife but I don’t have to check in. I do what I like!”
Laughter and glass sounds in the back, then Charlie jumped in:
“James, you hearing this? I said…”
James cut him off sharp, anger, confusion and this odd childish urge to just look away all mixing up inside.
“Stop,” he said firm, though his voice shook a touch. “I’ll handle it tomorrow. Don’t ring again.”
He hung up quick, chucked the phone down the sofa and stared at the ceiling, totally baffled. If Emily hadn’t been right there… he might’ve actually bought it!
She dropped back onto the sofa staring at him confused. That voice really did sound like hers! But that wasn’t the big thing! The big thing was how she knew enough details to pull it off. Someone must’ve told her what to say!
“Well that’s a turn,” she whispered, voice tight. “Who was that? What kind of mess is this?”
James shook his head, running a hand through his hair and messing it more. No answers, just suspicions. Bad ones…
“No clue,” he replied, looking off sideways like there might be something there. “But the voice… spot on. Even the way she talked, the laugh all matched. Can’t be chance.”
“And Charlie was dead certain it was me,” she said, voice trembling a bit. “Imagine if I really wasn’t here. You’d have thought I was there in the club with some guy.”
James turned to her, his look softening. He reached over, gently wrapped an arm round her shoulders and drew her in. She was shaking a little, and he felt how much it mattered to be close now, to make her feel safe.
“I’d still have wondered,” he said sure. “You wouldn’t do that! I know you. I know how you feel about things like that. This is all… some daft mistake, a wind-up, I don’t know. But I’ll get to the bottom of it! If I have to, I’ll go to the club and ask for the cameras. See who that girl really was.”
Emily pressed closer, the cold feeling fading as warmth came in body and mind. She breathed deep, steadying herself.
“Yeah,” she agreed, lifting her head. “It’s not me. But who then? And why?”
James shrugged, but the lost look was gone from his eyes now it was set on sorting this odd business. He squeezed her hand tighter, like saying they were in it together and they’d manage whatever.
The next day near midday, Emily sat in the kitchen with tea, going through work emails on her laptop. A ring broke the quiet Charlie’s name up on screen. She paused before picking up: after last night it wasn’t easy to chat with him. But curiosity won she wanted to hear what he’d say.
“Hi,” Charlie started careful, like treading careful. “You spoken to James since last night?”
Emily held the phone tight. She figured she’d use this to get answers find out what exactly Charlie saw and why he was so sure yesterday. After a little pause, picking words, she replied:
“Yeah. We… had words. He accused me of something odd, wouldn’t hear me out. Says I’m lying to him.”
Silence for a second. Emily heard Charlie breathe out heavy, then a note of satisfaction crept into his voice quiet but there.
“That’s how it goes,” he said drawn out. “Well, you know… I always said James doesn’t appreciate you. Never got what you’re really like.”
Emily felt everything bubbling up inside but kept her voice steady. She needed to hear the whole thing, see where he was heading.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, even as she could.
Charlie dropped his voice, almost whispering, and that put-on close tone had something off about it:
“About you deserving better! Emily, I’ve wanted to say for ages… I love you. Properly. And I’m ready to look after you. If you want to leave James I’ll be right here. Always.”
Emily stayed quiet, taking it in. Thoughts racing: how long had he been thinking this? Why now, after all the silliness? Or… had he set the whole thing up, thinking she wasn’t home…
She breathed deep, got her head straight and answered calm but straight:
“Charlie, this is really sudden. And honestly, not right. I love James, and we’ll sort what happened. No need to get in the middle.”
“Sorry if I said too much,” he said at last, confidence gone from his voice. “I just… wanted you to know there’s someone you can turn to. James was out of order blaming you for everything. I picked up something from him… Seems he just wants to drop you and he’s hunting for an excuse! I just want you safe!”
Emily gripped the phone till her fingers whitened a bit. Deep breath to stay cool no point losing it and shouting at this so-called mate.
“You know, Charlie,” her voice went icy and flat, no wobble, “first, I was home yesterday. Second, James and I didn’t row. And third, I know full well you set this up. I just didn’t twig why before. Now it’s obvious.”
Silence on the line. She could almost feel him scrambling for words, hunting a way round it, dodging the direct hit.
“What?…” he got out, confusion plain. But a second later he steadied, spoke firmer: “What do you mean?”
“That. You found a girl with a voice like mine. Got her to stage this whole thing call, talk like me, act like I’m in the club with some man. To split us up. Admit it, that’s it?”
More silence. Emily waited, no rush, knowing this was the moment either he’d keep fibbing or come clean.
Finally Charlie let out a sharp breath. His voice broke, got louder, almost desperate:
“Yes, I set it up! Because I love you, Emily! Because I see how James treats you. Because I want you happy with me!”
Emily closed her eyes a second. Bitterness rose but she held it back, kept it out of her voice.
“Happy?” she gave a bitter laugh, but it came out dry, no fun in it. “What made you think I’d be happy with you? Who are you anyway? Just some bloke who swaps girls like gloves. Even if you were the last one around, I wouldn’t look twice, got it?”
Charlie went quiet a beat, like sorting himself, then spoke low, almost whispering, like he couldn’t quite believe his own words:
“I thought… thought if you rowed, you’d see he doesn’t deserve you. That you’d notice me! I’m better than James! And the girls… I was just trying to get over you! But no one comes close to you, you know! I’ll treat you like royalty, spoil you, adore you… Just pick me!”
Emily felt cold hard anger rising not hot, but solid. She held the phone but kept her voice level, almost flat:
“You? Seriously? No way! You betrayed friendship and trust. And for what? Your daydreams?”
She spoke calm but every word landed like a final call clear, no hesitation. No anger or drama, just sure she was right.
“Emily, sorry…” Charlie’s voice shook. No push left, just confusion and regret.
But Emily had decided. No chances for him to explain or make excuses.
“No, Charlie. No forgiveness. And no friendship. Don’t call me again. Ever! And forget James’s number while you’re at it, I’ll make sure he hears this whole chat!”
She ended the call and set the phone down slow. Fingers shook a little but she steadied, breathed deep and looked out. Snow still falling quiet outside, like nothing had changed.
Right then James came in. He spotted her serious face and looked concerned.
“So?” he asked from the doorway. Worry in his voice but he kept it steady.
Emily turned with a bitter little smile.
“It’s all clear now,” she sighed. “He set it up. Owned up he loves me and wanted us to fight. Promised the earth! Can you believe it? What a snake…”
James sat by her on the sofa, took her hand careful. His fingers squeezed her palm firm, so she felt the support. That simple touch said it all: I’m here, right with you, and your feelings matter.
“So he was never a proper friend,” James said quiet. “Put him out of your head! No point wasting energy on it. Truth is I’d seen little signs ages ago, but no real proof. Worried it was just me overthinking. But now it all adds up.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, shifting closer and resting her shoulder on his. “But at least now we know what’s what. And who we can count on.”
Her voice stayed even, no strain. No resentment or bitterness left just a bit of relief it was all out. She closed her eyes a moment, taking in the usual home smells: warm wood, fresh tea and that faint trace of her favourite perfume.
“You know,” Emily smiled sudden, sparks in her eyes, “but it’s even a good thing. Now we’ve got a solid excuse to skip all those parties. You won’t fall out with other mates over him? This way we can just say there’s someone there we don’t fancy being around.”
She said it light, almost teasing, but there was truth. No more polite dodges, weighing if it was worth it, worrying about upsetting people by saying no. Now it was simple: them and their cozy spot, and the rest didn’t count.
James laughed real, no leftover tension.
“Spot on. Films and tea it is,” he agreed, tilting his head to catch her eye.
“And staying put,” she added with a small smirk, tugging the blanket over and wrapping up like a safe cocoon.
“Perfect,” he nodded, holding her closer.
So with snowflakes drifting slow outside and the lamp’s soft warm light, their little world felt whole and safe again. In that room full of quiet sounds and familiar smells, no space for lies, doubts or other people’s schemes. Just them two who knew the important stuff was already there: trust, warmth and knowing tomorrow would be just as calm and cozy as today…
Charlie sat in the kitchen dead quiet, staring at an empty cup of long-cold tea. Couldn’t even recall his last sip those words kept looping in his head like a broken track: “Don’t call me. Ever.”
But instead of regret or guilt that might’ve told him he’d messed up, this dull heavy anger was spreading in his chest. It squeezed his ribs, messed with his breathing, made him clench fists till nails bit in.
“Why did it all go wrong?!” he yelled, sweeping a hand across the table and knocking biscuit crumbs away that he’d been picking at without thinking.
Scenes from last night kept flashing in his head. There he was at the club, having sorted it with Sophie the girl he’d met a couple weeks back in a cafe. She’d caught his eye right off: same features, similar hair, voice almost like Emily’s. When he explained the plan she just smiled and nodded: “Easy. I love these sorts of games.”
He remembered standing off to one side, watching her on the phone playing drunk and loose Emily. She laughed, stretched words on purpose, tossed in sharp lines all just as he’d said. Felt that buzz, almost thrill: this was the key bit! “If it works,” he’d thought, “Emily will see James doesn’t value her. There’s someone who loves her proper.”
And now… now just cold no and bitter knowing: plan flopped. Worse, he’d lost it all.
“This isn’t my fault!” he argued in his head, pacing and barely noticing bumping a chair. “It’s them… they don’t see it, don’t get it! James doesn’t deserve her, and she just buys what he says!”
He stopped at the table, gripping the edge till fingers whitened. Memories rushed: years watching Emily and James. How he’d envied their easy way, laughing over little things, those warm looks they swapped without thinking. Seemed like he could give her the same only better, truer, stronger. And he’d picked this way as the only one that might work.
Went to the window. Snowflakes drifting slow, landing on the sill, bare tree branches. Everything looked so peaceful, so… still…
“Why’ve they got it all and I got nothing?!” burst out loud. “Why’d she end up with James! I’m worth more! Better in every way!”
He knew he’d lost not just Emily lost a friend too. James, always there, always ready to help, always trusted him. Now that was gone for good. But no regret, just burning irritation, hurt and annoyance eating at him.
Phone on the table, silent and odd. Charlie knew he wouldn’t ring Emily. Wouldn’t try explaining, justifying, pleading. That’d be another loss, another sign he couldn’t get his way. But new thoughts were already brewing bitter, cutting:
“Let them stay in their cozy bubble. Let them think they won. But I know the truth: James doesn’t value her like I would. One day Emily will see. Maybe too late…”
To the window, stared at the snow and almost hissed, barely loud enough:
“You think you won, Emily? Think it’s all sorted? But the truth is you can’t see past your cozy blanket and tea. You don’t see there’s someone who loves you proper. But you picked the illusion. Well, enjoy it…”
He turned sharp from the window, spotted a scrap of paper on the table the one from the night before with the chat plan scribbled, what Sophie should say, how to steer it. Grabbed it without thinking, ripped to bits, scrunched and chucked in the bin. That sad bit of paper just reminded him of the huge flop!
Snow kept falling outside, blanketing everything white. Charlie shut his eyes, trying to picture Emily now with James, laughing, watching a film, sipping tea. How warm and calm for them. How safe in their small world, no lies or games.
And instead of wishing them well or just accepting, what grew was only stubborn:
This should have been mine. All this should have been with me…This winter really showed off big time, with loads of snow turning the yards and streets into proper fairy tale scenes. Fluffy white flakes kept swirling around in the air, gently settling on roofs and paths, and that frost gave everything this crisp, clear feel, you know?
In the flat where Emily and James lived, it was a totally different story all warm and peaceful inside. Outside the big window that snowy display was playing out, but with the glass shut tight it felt snug and calm. The table lamp was casting this soft, muted glow that pushed back the winter chill.
The pair had got settled on the sofa, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. On the telly some family comedy was on, nothing deep, just something to chuckle at and unwind with. Emily was watching properly, now and then smiling faintly at thoughts of her own. James sat beside her, leaning back relaxed, watching too, but his eyes kept wandering to the snow falling outside. It looked stunning.
A nice ringtone cut through the calm James’s phone going off. He didn’t jump to answer straight away, like he didn’t want to break up this quiet time together, but it rang again. With a small sigh he fished the smartphone from his pocket, checked the screen and sighed once more.
“It’s Charlie again,” he told his wife. “Third time tonight.”
Emily turned her head slightly his way but kept her eyes on the telly.
“Probably asking us over to the cottage again,” she said calmly. “He bought the place and wants to mark it. For some reason this bloke just won’t take no for an answer.”
James swiped to answer.
“Yeah, Charlie, hi,” he said, keeping his voice light.
“James! When are you heading over?” His friend’s voice was full of energy. “I said we’re celebrating the buy! All set: the hot tub’s warmed up, table’s laid, mates are on their way. Stop sitting in all night, eh? Bring Emily, it’ll be a laugh!”
James paused, thinking. He glanced at Emily, who gave the tiniest head shake. She stayed quiet but he got the message loud and clear: loud nights out, blasting music, non-stop talk and fuss just didn’t fit what they wanted right now. Both of them fancied a quiet weekend in their own cozy space, no rushing about or explaining themselves to anyone.
He waited a beat before replying, then a thought hit him and he used it.
“Listen,” he started low, “thing is… Emily’s popped to her mum’s for a couple days. Don’t fancy going solo, you understand. Someone might say the wrong thing to her… Don’t want a row with the wife over nothing. We’ll catch up sometime, just later.”
Short silence on the line, then Charlie sounded properly surprised.
“Gone? When’s she back?”
“Tomorrow evening,” James said, a bit of a wistful note in there. “She decided on the spur. We’d made all these plans too! Cinema, walk in the park while the weather held, maybe even the ice rink. Didn’t work out though. So another time, yeah?”
Charlie stayed quiet a moment, like mulling it over, then his voice came back oddly pleased.
“Alright then… But let me know the second she’s back. Really want to see you two!”
“Sure,” James said quick. “Soon as I can, I’ll ring. Maybe next weekend? If nothing shifts.”
He said his goodbyes, dropped the phone on the table between the chairs and breathed out in relief. A little smirk crept onto his face.
“Phew, just managed to dodge that,” he muttered, turning to Emily. “What’s with him being so pushy? I made it plain I didn’t want the cottage! What’d we even do there? Sit watching them get plastered? Charlie only knows one way to unwind! Anyway, forget it. Much prefer time just with you.”
He pulled her in, the tension from those minutes easing off. The flat stayed warm and still, snowflakes drifting slow outside, and their favourite film kept going on the telly slow and comfy, nothing like those noisy dos James couldn’t stand.
Emily leaned against him, feeling his body heat and steady breathing. The room kept that snug air: lamp’s soft light, the unhurried black and white film on screen, quiet clock ticking on the wall. It all gave this safe, peaceful feeling the daily grind usually took away.
“Me too,” she said soft, lifting her head to meet his eyes. “Let’s just finish the film and head to bed. Nothing else needed.”
James smiled, holding her shoulders firmer. He was already imagining turning the lights off in a bit, getting under the warm duvet and drifting off to the far-off sound of wind in the snow. But another call interrupted. And yep, same number.
James frowned, shot the screen a quick look and reached for the phone reluctantly. What now?
“Charlie, I already told you…” he started, aiming for calm but tension creeping in.
“James,” Charlie’s voice came unusually serious, even tight, “I’m at the Crystal Club, we decided on a proper night with the lads before the cottage. And then… there’s Emily. With some bloke. They’re drinking, she’s all over him. Didn’t want to step in, but… you ought to know. She said she was off to her mum’s! So she must’ve lied!”
James froze. He looked at his wife surprised, then back at the screen, wondering if his mate was having him on.
“What?” he asked back, doubt clear in his tone. “You sure? Maybe mixed her up with someone else? I know for a fact where my wife is!”
“Absolutely,” Charlie said solid, no doubt at all. “She’s already drunk, laughing loud. Looks… well, not great, if I’m honest. And she’s not even fussed I’m there! Just brushes me off! Want me to hand her the phone?”
James shut his eyes a moment, sorting his head. Questions were whirling but no answers. What on earth was this? How could his friend get it so wrong? Or was something else going on?
“Alright, go on,” he said short, switching to speaker. He was curious now what he’d hear.
Muffled club bass came through, mixed with laughs and jumbled voices. Then a woman’s voice cut in so like Emily’s it made James’s heart lurch.
“Hello? Who’s calling?” it said, a bit hesitant, like she didn’t clock straight away she was answering.
James swallowed, trying to ease the dry feeling in his throat. He looked at Emily beside him, eyes wide, clearly lost.
“Emily?” he said, keeping steady. “It’s James. What’s happening?”
A short laugh, then the voice again, bolder now with a bit of a rasp:
“Oh James, you’re boring me! I want to have some fun, alright? Sick of your dull life. Gonna party till I can’t be bothered!”
Emily shot up from the sofa, face gone pale. She pressed a hand to her chest like calming her heart and whispered so quiet:
“What nonsense! How could he mix me up with someone? And how does she know your name? What’s going on here at all?”
“Where are you?”
“None of your business,” the voice snapped back, challenging. “I’m your wife but I don’t have to check in. I do what I like!”
Laughter and glass sounds in the back, then Charlie jumped in:
“James, you hearing this? I said…”
James cut him off sharp, anger, confusion and this odd childish urge to just look away all mixing up inside.
“Stop,” he said firm, though his voice shook a touch. “I’ll handle it tomorrow. Don’t ring again.”
He hung up quick, chucked the phone down the sofa and stared at the ceiling, totally baffled. If Emily hadn’t been right there… he might’ve actually bought it!
She dropped back onto the sofa staring at him confused. That voice really did sound like hers! But that wasn’t the big thing! The big thing was how she knew enough details to pull it off. Someone must’ve told her what to say!
“Well that’s a turn,” she whispered, voice tight. “Who was that? What kind of mess is this?”
James shook his head, running a hand through his hair and messing it more. No answers, just suspicions. Bad ones…
“No clue,” he replied, looking off sideways like there might be something there. “But the voice… spot on. Even the way she talked, the laugh all matched. Can’t be chance.”
“And Charlie was dead certain it was me,” she said, voice trembling a bit. “Imagine if I really wasn’t here. You’d have thought I was there in the club with some guy.”
James turned to her, his look softening. He reached over, gently wrapped an arm round her shoulders and drew her in. She was shaking a little, and he felt how much it mattered to be close now, to make her feel safe.
“I’d still have wondered,” he said sure. “You wouldn’t do that! I know you. I know how you feel about things like that. This is all… some daft mistake, a wind-up, I don’t know. But I’ll get to the bottom of it! If I have to, I’ll go to the club and ask for the cameras. See who that girl really was.”
Emily pressed closer, the cold feeling fading as warmth came in body and mind. She breathed deep, steadying herself.
“Yeah,” she agreed, lifting her head. “It’s not me. But who then? And why?”
James shrugged, but the lost look was gone from his eyes now it was set on sorting this odd business. He squeezed her hand tighter, like saying they were in it together and they’d manage whatever.
The next day near midday, Emily sat in the kitchen with tea, going through work emails on her laptop. A ring broke the quiet Charlie’s name up on screen. She paused before picking up: after last night it wasn’t easy to chat with him. But curiosity won she wanted to hear what he’d say.
“Hi,” Charlie started careful, like treading careful. “You spoken to James since last night?”
Emily held the phone tight. She figured she’d use this to get answers find out what exactly Charlie saw and why he was so sure yesterday. After a little pause, picking words, she replied:
“Yeah. We… had words. He accused me of something odd, wouldn’t hear me out. Says I’m lying to him.”
Silence for a second. Emily heard Charlie breathe out heavy, then a note of satisfaction crept into his voice quiet but there.
“That’s how it goes,” he said drawn out. “Well, you know… I always said James doesn’t appreciate you. Never got what you’re really like.”
Emily felt everything bubbling up inside but kept her voice steady. She needed to hear the whole thing, see where he was heading.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, even as she could.
Charlie dropped his voice, almost whispering, and that put-on close tone had something off about it:
“About you deserving better! Emily, I’ve wanted to say for ages… I love you. Properly. And I’m ready to look after you. If you want to leave James I’ll be right here. Always.”
Emily stayed quiet, taking it in. Thoughts racing: how long had he been thinking this? Why now, after all the silliness? Or… had he set the whole thing up, thinking she wasn’t home…
She breathed deep, got her head straight and answered calm but straight:
“Charlie, this is really sudden. And honestly, not right. I love James, and we’ll sort what happened. No need to get in the middle.”
“Sorry if I said too much,” he said at last, confidence gone from his voice. “I just… wanted you to know there’s someone you can turn to. James was out of order blaming you for everything. I picked up something from him… Seems he just wants to drop you and he’s hunting for an excuse! I just want you safe!”
Emily gripped the phone till her fingers whitened a bit. Deep breath to stay cool no point losing it and shouting at this so-called mate.
“You know, Charlie,” her voice went icy and flat, no wobble, “first, I was home yesterday. Second, James and I didn’t row. And third, I know full well you set this up. I just didn’t twig why before. Now it’s obvious.”
Silence on the line. She could almost feel him scrambling for words, hunting a way round it, dodging the direct hit.
“What?…” he got out, confusion plain. But a second later he steadied, spoke firmer: “What do you mean?”
“That. You found a girl with a voice like mine. Got her to stage this whole thing call, talk like me, act like I’m in the club with some man. To split us up. Admit it, that’s it?”
More silence. Emily waited, no rush, knowing this was the moment either he’d keep fibbing or come clean.
Finally Charlie let out a sharp breath. His voice broke, got louder, almost desperate:
“Yes, I set it up! Because I love you, Emily! Because I see how James treats you. Because I want you happy with me!”
Emily closed her eyes a second. Bitterness rose but she held it back, kept it out of her voice.
“Happy?” she gave a bitter laugh, but it came out dry, no fun in it. “What made you think I’d be happy with you? Who are you anyway? Just some bloke who swaps girls like gloves. Even if you were the last one around, I wouldn’t look twice, got it?”
Charlie went quiet a beat, like sorting himself, then spoke low, almost whispering, like he couldn’t quite believe his own words:
“I thought… thought if you rowed, you’d see he doesn’t deserve you. That you’d notice me! I’m better than James! And the girls… I was just trying to get over you! But no one comes close to you, you know! I’ll treat you like royalty, spoil you, adore you… Just pick me!”
Emily felt cold hard anger rising not hot, but solid. She held the phone but kept her voice level, almost flat:
“You? Seriously? No way! You betrayed friendship and trust. And for what? Your daydreams?”
She spoke calm but every word landed like a final call clear, no hesitation. No anger or drama, just sure she was right.
“Emily, sorry…” Charlie’s voice shook. No push left, just confusion and regret.
But Emily had decided. No chances for him to explain or make excuses.
“No, Charlie. No forgiveness. And no friendship. Don’t call me again. Ever! And forget James’s number while you’re at it, I’ll make sure he hears this whole chat!”
She ended the call and set the phone down slow. Fingers shook a little but she steadied, breathed deep and looked out. Snow still falling quiet outside, like nothing had changed.
Right then James came in. He spotted her serious face and looked concerned.
“So?” he asked from the doorway. Worry in his voice but he kept it steady.
Emily turned with a bitter little smile.
“It’s all clear now,” she sighed. “He set it up. Owned up he loves me and wanted us to fight. Promised the earth! Can you believe it? What a snake…”
James sat by her on the sofa, took her hand careful. His fingers squeezed her palm firm, so she felt the support. That simple touch said it all: I’m here, right with you, and your feelings matter.
“So he was never a proper friend,” James said quiet. “Put him out of your head! No point wasting energy on it. Truth is I’d seen little signs ages ago, but no real proof. Worried it was just me overthinking. But now it all adds up.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, shifting closer and resting her shoulder on his. “But at least now we know what’s what. And who we can count on.”
Her voice stayed even, no strain. No resentment or bitterness left just a bit of relief it was all out. She closed her eyes a moment, taking in the usual home smells: warm wood, fresh tea and that faint trace of her favourite perfume.
“You know,” Emily smiled sudden, sparks in her eyes, “but it’s even a good thing. Now we’ve got a solid excuse to skip all those parties. You won’t fall out with other mates over him? This way we can just say there’s someone there we don’t fancy being around.”
She said it light, almost teasing, but there was truth. No more polite dodges, weighing if it was worth it, worrying about upsetting people by saying no. Now it was simple: them and their cozy spot, and the rest didn’t count.
James laughed real, no leftover tension.
“Spot on. Films and tea it is,” he agreed, tilting his head to catch her eye.
“And staying put,” she added with a small smirk, tugging the blanket over and wrapping up like a safe cocoon.
“Perfect,” he nodded, holding her closer.
So with snowflakes drifting slow outside and the lamp’s soft warm light, their little world felt whole and safe again. In that room full of quiet sounds and familiar smells, no space for lies, doubts or other people’s schemes. Just them two who knew the important stuff was already there: trust, warmth and knowing tomorrow would be just as calm and cozy as today…
Charlie sat in the kitchen dead quiet, staring at an empty cup of long-cold tea. Couldn’t even recall his last sip those words kept looping in his head like a broken track: “Don’t call me. Ever.”
But instead of regret or guilt that might’ve told him he’d messed up, this dull heavy anger was spreading in his chest. It squeezed his ribs, messed with his breathing, made him clench fists till nails bit in.
“Why did it all go wrong?!” he yelled, sweeping a hand across the table and knocking biscuit crumbs away that he’d been picking at without thinking.
Scenes from last night kept flashing in his head. There he was at the club, having sorted it with Sophie the girl he’d met a couple weeks back in a cafe. She’d caught his eye right off: same features, similar hair, voice almost like Emily’s. When he explained the plan she just smiled and nodded: “Easy. I love these sorts of games.”
He remembered standing off to one side, watching her on the phone playing drunk and loose Emily. She laughed, stretched words on purpose, tossed in sharp lines all just as he’d said. Felt that buzz, almost thrill: this was the key bit! “If it works,” he’d thought, “Emily will see James doesn’t value her. There’s someone who loves her proper.”
And now… now just cold no and bitter knowing: plan flopped. Worse, he’d lost it all.
“This isn’t my fault!” he argued in his head, pacing and barely noticing bumping a chair. “It’s them… they don’t see it, don’t get it! James doesn’t deserve her, and she just buys what he says!”
He stopped at the table, gripping the edge till fingers whitened. Memories rushed: years watching Emily and James. How he’d envied their easy way, laughing over little things, those warm looks they swapped without thinking. Seemed like he could give her the same only better, truer, stronger. And he’d picked this way as the only one that might work.
Went to the window. Snowflakes drifting slow, landing on the sill, bare tree branches. Everything looked so peaceful, so… still…
“Why’ve they got it all and I got nothing?!” burst out loud. “Why’d she end up with James! I’m worth more! Better in every way!”
He knew he’d lost not just Emily lost a friend too. James, always there, always ready to help, always trusted him. Now that was gone for good. But no regret, just burning irritation, hurt and annoyance eating at him.
Phone on the table, silent and odd. Charlie knew he wouldn’t ring Emily. Wouldn’t try explaining, justifying, pleading. That’d be another loss, another sign he couldn’t get his way. But new thoughts were already brewing bitter, cutting:
“Let them stay in their cozy bubble. Let them think they won. But I know the truth: James doesn’t value her like I would. One day Emily will see. Maybe too late…”
To the window, stared at the snow and almost hissed, barely loud enough:
“You think you won, Emily? Think it’s all sorted? But the truth is you can’t see past your cozy blanket and tea. You don’t see there’s someone who loves you proper. But you picked the illusion. Well, enjoy it…”
He turned sharp from the window, spotted a scrap of paper on the table the one from the night before with the chat plan scribbled, what Sophie should say, how to steer it. Grabbed it without thinking, ripped to bits, scrunched and chucked in the bin. That sad bit of paper just reminded him of the huge flop!
Snow kept falling outside, blanketing everything white. Charlie shut his eyes, trying to picture Emily now with James, laughing, watching a film, sipping tea. How warm and calm for them. How safe in their small world, no lies or games.
And instead of wishing them well or just accepting, what grew was only stubborn:
This should have been mine. All this should have been with me…
