Tied

7. Where The Heart Is

The day had come. The day that, after which, Daniel probably wouldn't see Sara again. He thought, maybe it would be for the best. That way, he could really focus on his family, and strengthening his and Emily's relationship. It was so broken, and he felt so awful about it. She loved him, and he just hadn't felt that way about her in, so long.

As he zipped one of his suitcases closed, he looked up at Emily. She seemed so, contented. She'd always been a happy traveller, though. Always thrilled to be somewhere new. She met his gaze, and shot him a reassuring smile. She watched from the bedside as he drifted across the yroom, to the walk-in wardrobe. He got out all of his shirts, carrying them in a bundle to the suitcase she'd laid out for just such a purpose. As he returned once more to the wardrobe for his shoes, she noticed his phone buzzing, from his bedside table. She thought it may have been about business, and as she went to check it to tell Daniel, she noticed the text was from Sara. It read; 'I'm still not happy about the way we left things. But I can live with it, and I hope you can move on.' Even though her feelings for Daniel didn't stretch too far either way; she felt a surprising amount of jealousy, and, actually, rage. She wondered how the man to whom she'd given her best years, could betray her trust so blatantly. Immediately, she thought she should probably go in and shout his ears off, but no, she instead resolved to measure her outrage, and keep it quiet until they'd returned to Paris, so as to avoid a tense and uncomfortable plane journey, with their daughters mentally questioning their parents' emotional coldness, distance. She'd been there before, and despite her feelings, didn't want to go back there sooner than absolutely required.

So she quietly took the phone, locked the screen, and replaced it on his bedside table, without saying a word about it. This would not be an argument he'd forget any time soon. She'd make sure of it.

The wind kissed her face as she turned to face the world, having locked the door of the beach house for what would probably be the last time for a long time. She looked at her smiling family. She knew, as she got into the car next to her husband, that he wouldn't be smiling for too much longer.

The plane journey was, as she'd expected, not as awkward as it would have been, had she confronted Daniel with the phone, and the text messages. Before long, the girls were asleep, and Emily and Daniel were left to talk. "You excited to go back home?" he asked, smiling; she retuned the smile, although hers wasn't as truthful, and replied "Not as much as you'd think. Not as much as you'd think." The second time she said it though, it was to herself. It was just for her; to remind herself of what she needed to do when she got home. She was almost amping herself up, getting ready, when all of a sudden, Daniel asked her "Do you think we'll always be together? Like, do you think it'll always be you and me?" In her head, Emily was thinking 'Well, as long as needs must.' She knew very well, though, that she couldn't say that to Daniel's face, so turned in her seat to face him, and replied "Daniel, I honestly don't know whether we'll be together in a month, or six months, a year, ten years, or a lifetime. I do know that I don't want to know. Not knowing, well, that's the best part. Not knowing what the next day will bring! Some of the best things that have ever happened to us have been surprises! Although it is fair to say that that is also true of some of the worst things too. I wouldn't want to know. But I do know that I love our family, and I wouldn't ever do anything to jeopardise it." With that little speech, Daniel seemed satisfied, and so too was Emily. She'd simultaneously helped her case in the upcoming arguement, of which her husband knew nothing, and set up some great comebacks that was sure to make Daniel feel guilty for being unfaithful.

But she couldn't help thinking that she meant every word.

© Sarah Egan 2014. All rights reserved. This story is subject to copyright and may not be copied or reproduced without the express permission of the author.