#maybe emily is paranoid and saw a shadow lmao

[loveaffairxc]

Emily approached the front door with a purposeful stride, the summer evening breeze tousling her perfect curls and causing a strand to fall across her face, which she quickly tucked behind her ear. A slight hesitation in her step made her pause before knocking. But she eventually did, Frank opened the door and he was met with Emily’s weary expression. Her smile was weak, her eyes shadowed with concern.

"Hi!" she said, her voice straining for a cheerfulness it couldn’t quite capture. It came off as a brittle imitation.

"Hey" Frank greeted, his voice tinged with surprise. He stood in front of the door, which was slightly ajar, as Emily sighed then glanced down at her shoes before looking back up.

"I’m sorry to drop by like this, Frank, but something’s happened in my family. I need a few days to sort it out, and… I didn’t want to leave my dog at a kennel. He’s used to you, so I thought..."

Frank’s surprise softened into understanding. "You want me to look after him?"

She nodded, eyes pleading. "I know it’s a lot to ask, but it would just be for a few days. A day or two...not more than that."

Frank hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the staircase as if seeking guidance from the silent woodwork. He was acutely aware of the weight of Emily's request and the nagging thought that he should consult Esther. Yet, he understood the request's profound personal significance. The dog was more than a mere pet to Emily; he was a living connection to her brother, who had been lost in the war. Frank had often seen the dog by her side at work, a loyal companion who frequented social gatherings—a presence so constant that it had become a running joke among her colleagues.

With a measured nod, Frank eased the door slightly closed, his voice dropping to a whisper as though to shield the moment’s intimacy. "Of course" he said, the promise in his tone as steadfast as the resolve in his eyes. "I’ll look after him. You take care of what you need to."

Relief washed over Emily’s face. "Thank you" she said, her voice trailing off into the space between them, as though she were searching for something familiar to anchor herself. She glanced around. "Well, I guess I should go—"

He reached out and took her hand before she would turn his back on him. "What the fuck happened?"

"Nothing" she replied instantly then took a moment, her eyes sad all over again. Her silence was an anomaly, a striking departure from her usual effervescence. She had always been like a bright bubbly champagne, a force of lively chatter, her words a constant, sparkling stream. Yet now, she was subdued, her typical exuberance replaced by an almost palpable heaviness.

"Go on, tell me" he urged, his voice low and reassuring as he held her hand.

They began to walk, their steps stirring up the gravel beneath them with a soft crunch that seemed to coax her into opening up. As they moved slowly, their hands still intertwined, she spoke of her aunt, her voice a blend of resignation and sadness. The tale unfolded with the careful precision of someone accustomed to holding their emotions at bay. Her aunt had been struck by pneumonia—post-surgical pneumonia, to be precise. An affliction that followed a recent operation.

"I'm sorry" He said honestly, as they neared her car.

"And if that wasn't enough, I've got this blooming mess with my landlord."

"What’s the trouble then?"

"He’s been rather uncooperative. I’ve been having these issues with the heating—keeps breaking down and..." She paused, her voice trailing off as she leaned against her car door. For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she found herself glancing up at the upstairs window, a fleeting sense of unease gripping her as if she’d caught sight of someone there.

Emily hesitated. "Is she there?"

His eyes flicked from side to side, a furrow of confusion appearing briefly. "What?"

"Is she?"

Frank hesitated, fishing for a cigarette from his pocket. "For fuck sake, Emily. You’re acting all kinds of weird." he said with a frown, though his irritation was mild. "Just come in, let's really talk"

"When your wife's there..." She scoffed.

"Stop it"

"What?"

"I know what you're doing" He replied, placing the cigarette between his lips. Explaining the intricacies of his relationship with Esther always felt like an exercise in futility, a puzzle with missing pieces. So he had resigned himself to the word "complicated," though Emily’s persistent fixation made that label seem woefully inadequate.

She absently toyed with the fabric of his shirt, her fingers tracing idle patterns. Her gaze wandered back to the window, where she seemed to search for answers in the night. "Well, she is your wife, isn’t she? And you are her husband…" Her voice faltered on the last words, as if the weight of them had become too much to bear. "Despite all your talk of complexities, the fact remains that neither of you have chosen to part ways. Here you are, still living together, while she keeps watch from a distance."

His blue eyes sharpened, a flash of vivid intensity piercing through as if her words had struck a nerve. There was nothing he despised more than someone else dissecting his and Esther’s relationship, casting a light on the shadows he preferred to keep hidden. It felt like staring into a mirror that reflected the harsh reality of what they had become. And though Emily thought she understood, he knew she didn’t—how could she? In his mind, Esther was already back with James, and that was the simplest explanation. The thought fueled a slow-burning annoyance that made him frown. As he started to turn his head, curiosity getting the better of him, to see what had captured Emily’s attention, she quickly placed a finger under his chin, gently guiding his gaze back to her. "No, don’t look!" she whispered urgently.

He let out a short, amused breath, as if the very idea was absurd. "She couldn’t give a damn, Em."

"Then why stay? Frank, you are with her practically all-"

"Come back tomorrow morning with Rufus" He cut her off, puffing on his cigarette with a calm, steady breath. "And stick around for a bit."

"No, no I won't have time" She shook her head, looking down. He could sense she was lying, the quiet urgency to avoid any chance of crossing paths with Esther. She watched him, and there was something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. "Frank..." She started.

"Well, call me, once you get home. So we can talk?" He asked quickly, sensing she was on the verge of mentioning Esther again.

She nodded this time, her fingers absentmindedly fiddling with his shirt. Yet, her eyes flickered back to the window one last time, knowing she couldn’t see anything in the dim light now that the sun had completely disappeared. "I’d like that," she whispered. "I’d like that very much."

He hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth of her body against his. For a moment, they both stood there, suspended in the quiet stillness of the evening. She pulled him closer, her hands gripping the back of his shirt as if afraid to let go.

Even amidst the blur of gin, Esther was certain she could make out a smile on his lips. Once he'd left the room, it was all she could think about. She lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, the room gently spinning around her. Frank’s gestures and touch had been soft and familiar. Yet for years, she'd lived in a haze, convincing herself that the Frank she had once loved so fiercely had died in the war. She’d buried him, grieved him, and in some ways, had learned to breathe without him. But now, he was back. Flesh and bone. A mere stranger moving through the same house they used to share. Still, she couldn’t shake off the softness in his touch as he had brushed her hair back from her forehead that night. It lingered, leaving her questioning everything.

The weekend passed in a strange blur. She went through the motions of tidying, cooking, and even tending to the garden. But her mind kept slipping back to that night. Deep in thought, she sat by her bedroom window, nursing a cup of tea that had long gone cold. She listened to the familiar creaks of the house and the steady rhythm of Frank moving about downstairs. It was strange, this limbo they existed in. She had once loved him with every fibre of her being, and perhaps some part of her had never stopped. But what did that mean now, after everything they had been through? After the war? After their years apart?

The sound of tires crunching over gravel startled her from her thoughts. Her head snapped toward the window. Outside, beneath the fading light of the evening, a car had come to a stop in the driveway. It wasn’t unusual for visitors to arrive unannounced, but something about the low rumble of the engine sent a prickle of unease down her spine.

She squinted through the glass, watching as the car door opened and a woman stepped out. Esther’s breath caught in her throat. The woman was tall and slender, with hair like spun gold that shimmered in the dusky light. She wore a tailored coat, her heels sinking slightly into the gravel as she adjusted her purse on her arm. There was an elegance to her, a confidence that made her movements seem almost rehearsed.

But it wasn’t the woman’s presence that set Esther’s pulse racing. It was the unmistakable familiarity of her. The blonde hair, the sharp, poised features. Esther's hand gripped the windowsill as recognition hit her like a slap to the face. Emily.