**Betrayal Behind Closed Doors**
James twisted the key in the lock of his London flat, his pulse racing with anticipation. He imagined his beloved wife Eleanor’s face lighting up with joy. Almost a year had passed since he’d last been home—what started as a month-long assignment had stretched into an indefinite absence. Now, finally, he’d been granted a week’s leave. Determined to surprise her, he hadn’t called ahead. Quietly slipping off his shoes, he left his bag in the hallway and hid a bouquet of roses behind his back before following the sound of Eleanor’s voice from the kitchen. But as he reached the doorway, he froze as if struck by lightning.
The surprise had worked—just not the one he’d intended.
At the kitchen table sat Eleanor and a smartly dressed stranger, sipping tea with infuriating calm. When she spotted him, Eleanor’s face drained of colour, her eyes wide with shock. The man, however, merely smiled and raised his cup.
“Good afternoon. Welcome back.”
“Hello…” James murmured, glancing between them. “Ellie, I’m home—”
“James!” She leapt up, rushing to embrace him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I can see how thrilled you are,” he muttered, shoving the roses into her hands before turning to the stranger, jaw clenched. “And who’s this?”
“Don’t fret, James,” the man replied smoothly. “Edward Whitmore. Ellie and I work together in the same department. Just popped round to check on her—she’s been under the weather.”
“Under the weather?” James scoffed. “Since when are you her personal physician?”
“James, please—” Eleanor cut in, her voice trembling. “Edward was just leaving. Weren’t you?”
“Of course,” Edward said, unfazed. “Just let me finish this last bite of your apple crumble. It’s extraordinary, as always.”
“As *always*?” James’s gaze snapped to his wife. “How often does he drop by for crumble?”
“James,” Edward interjected, wiping his mouth, “your wife has been kind enough to bring desserts to the office for months. With you gone so long, we’ve become her support. Speaking of—how long are you staying? A week? Or permanently? Your colleague Robert mentioned—”
“Robert?” James stiffened. “How do you know him?”
“Old friend,” Edward said lightly. “Works in your department. Quite the storyteller. Though I must say, James—you don’t seem very cheerful today.”
“That’s *enough*.” James’s voice turned low, dangerous. “Finish your damn crumble and get out.”
“James, don’t—!” Eleanor flinched, but he silenced her with a glare.
“We’ll talk later. *Lovely* surprise you’ve planned for me, by the way.”
“About surprises,” Edward mused, standing, “I’d argue you’re the expert. Robert says you’re full of them. I’m sure you’ve got something *grand* in store for Ellie. So—staying long?”
“Right. That’s it.” James grabbed him by the arm. “Outside. *Now.*”
“Delighted,” Edward said, following him into the hallway.
The moment the door shut, James shoved him against the wall, fury barely contained.
“Listen, you smug prick. You leave, and you *never* come back. Got it?”
Edward studied him, unfazed. “Understood. But now it’s your turn to listen. Tonight, you tell Ellie the truth—or I will. Unpleasant, but necessary.”
“What truth?” James paled. “What the hell are you on about?”
“Your *other* life,” Edward hissed. “The woman you’ve been living with for six months. *Emily.* The one who thinks you came back to London to divorce Ellie. The one carrying your child.”
James staggered as if struck. “How—who told you—?”
“Robert.” Edward’s voice turned icy. “Emily’s his sister. She tells him everything, and *he* told *me*. You’ve got twenty-four hours, James. Confess. File for divorce. And if you ever hurt Ellie again, I’ll make sure you regret it. She means something to me. *Clear?*”
“What if I want to stay with her?” James choked out.
Edward gave a cold laugh. “Doubt she’ll want you—after the truth.”
With that, he walked away, leaving James hollow and shaking. When he stepped back inside, Eleanor stood waiting. Her face was ashen, her eyes brimming.
“You heard?” he whispered.
She nodded. “*All* of it?”
“All of it,” she breathed.
“And you’ll divorce me?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Gladly,” she said, turning away.
James stared at her, choking on words he didn’t have. His life, once so certain, had shattered—and he had no idea how to piece it back together.
