Doubts and Revelations

After David left, Emma felt a sudden strange emptiness in the house. She tried to distract herself by doing something simple—anything to keep her mind from wandering.

She began tidying up, folding David’s shirts and placing them neatly in the laundry basket. The simple task gave her something to focus on, but as she picked up a particularly crumpled shirt, something in the air caught her attention.

A faint scent lingered in the room, one that wasn’t hers. It was floral, sweet, and unmistakably feminine. ‘Perfume,’ she thought, her pulse quickening. Her mind raced as she turned the shirt over in her hands, inhaling deeply. It wasn’t her perfume; in fact, it didn’t even resemble anything she wore.

She froze. What was this? The smell felt foreign, out of place. Her heart hammered in her chest, and an uncomfortable tension settled in her stomach. The perfume was subtle, almost as if it had been transferred to the fabric by accident, but the thought that it was someone else's scent—someone else's presence—made her stomach twist. She couldn’t just ignore it.

Without thinking, she reached for her phone, dialing her best friend’s number.

The phone rang, and as soon as the call connected, Emma couldn’t hold back. “Sophie, I need to talk to you. Something’s wrong.”

Sophie, who had always been Emma's pillar of support, didn’t waste any time. “I’m on my way,” she said.

It didn’t take long for Sophie to arrive, her steps echoing through the hallway as she made her way into the living room. Emma was sitting on the couch, her phone in hand, her face pale and strained.

“What happened?” Sophie asked, concerned. “What’s going on?”

Emma told her everything—about the strange scent she had smelled on David’s shirt, the same shirt he had left behind when he rushed out earlier. Sophie listened carefully, her expression serious, but she wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Maybe you’re just overthinking it,” Sophie suggested, sitting down beside her. “I mean, David’s a busy man. He has a lot of meetings, a lot of clients. Maybe he just brushed up against someone by accident, or maybe the perfume transferred when he was at the airport.”

Emma nodded slowly but didn’t feel reassured. Sophie’s words didn’t sit right with her. There was something about the whole situation that felt off. She wasn’t sure why, but the nagging doubt in her mind wouldn’t let go.

“What if... what if I’m not just imagining things?” Emma murmured, looking at the floor.

Sophie shook her head. “No, don’t start thinking like that. You’ve been married for two years now. I can see the love between you two. You’ve always been so happy together. Trust him, Emma. He’s not the kind of person to cheat on you. He’s not that kind of man.”

Emma bit her lip, trying to suppress the turmoil within her. Sophie’s words, meant to comfort her, only made her feel more uncertain. She couldn’t ignore the feeling in her gut, the feeling that something wasn’t right.

She looked at Sophie and sighed. “You know how it started, though. You know that we weren’t supposed to be together. I wasn't his first choice, Sophie.”

Sophie’s face softened, and she reached out to gently hold Emma’s hand. “So what? He’s not a child, Emma. No one forced him to marry you. You’re the one he chose. The wedding vows... that was his choice. And honestly, I see how he looks at you. He loves you. I can tell, just by the way he looks at you.”

Emma stayed silent, unsure whether to trust her instincts or Sophie’s comforting words. She wasn’t sure whether to believe that everything was fine or that something was truly wrong. But Sophie’s presence, her insistence that Emma believe in her husband, helped to calm her—just a little.

Sophie leaned back on the couch, tossing a cushion at Emma. "You’re being dramatic, Emma. Maybe it’s just some old lady who spritzed her perfume too close to David at the airport. You know how people are."

Emma caught the cushion, rolling her eyes. "Old lady? Soph, it smelled like ROSES, not mothballs."

"Fine, maybe it was a young, extremely polite lady who bumped into him. You think he’s out there juggling secret perfumes while running a billion-dollar company? Come on." Sophie grinned, nudging Emma with her elbow.

Emma tried to stifle a laugh but failed. "Okay, fine, when you put it like that, I do sound ridiculous."

"Exactly!" Sophie said, clapping her hands. "Now, let’s talk about more important things. Like why your fridge has no ice cream. How are we supposed to have a crisis without ice cream?"

Emma chuckled, the weight in her chest lifting slightly. "A crisis? You’re impossible, you know that?"

"Someone’s gotta be, with you moping around." Sophie winked.

Just as Emma thought she might be able to forget about it, her phone lit up with a new text message. She picked it up, half-expecting it to be something trivial, but as soon as she saw the sender, her heart dropped.

Anonymous.

She opened the message, her fingers trembling. Sophie immediately noticed something was off. Emma’s smile had vanished, replaced by a vacant, pale expression as her phone lit up beside her.

“Emma?” Sophie asked, her voice cautious. When Emma didn’t respond, Sophie picked up the phone herself.

Below it was a photo of David standing at the entrance of a hotel, his face unmistakable. Beside him was a woman clinging to his arm, her posture intimate.

Sophie’s breath caught. She glanced at Emma, who looked frozen in place. “Emma…” Sophie’s voice was soft but heavy with worry. The truth in the photo didn’t need explaining. It said everything.