“Are you serious?” Emma demanded, eyes flashing as she stood in the kitchen doorway, fingers digging into the doorframe. She could feel the heat of a storm building behind her stare, hoping against hope that this wasn’t the moment when the truth would finally snap into place.
Her sister Lucy was perched in Jamess car, laughing brightly, a hand gently resting on his arm as he tried to keep his composure.
Emma forced a smile, pretended not to notice, and slipped past them toward the flats entrance. She didnt want a scene in the hallway with the neighbours listening. But now Lucy was back, dripping with the same smug confidence.
“Are you out of your mind?” Emma snapped, voice trembling. “After I told you how much I liked him!”
“Oh, Emma, stop being dramatic,” Lucy waved a hand, rolling her eyes. “Dont be ridiculous. You were seeing him behind my back! I showed you his picture, shared everything, thought you’d be happy for me”
“Listen, he’s not a pet. He isnt yours to claim,” Lucy continued, nonchalant. “He made a choice. It happens. I feel for you, truly, but you cant waste kindness on a man whos already gone.”
Emmas eyebrows shot up, a gasp of outrage caught in her throat. Her own sister had just spoken those words to her!
It seemed absurdtwo sisters, only two years apart, always close, now locked in this bitter duel.
Their mothers voice echoed in Emmas memory: “Youll always have each other. One day your father wont be here. Men come and go, but sisters stay. Help each other, share, especially when times are tough.”
How had it come to this, where Lucy was now demanding Emma share a man?
It all began when they decided to rent a twobedroom flat in Brixton together. It was cheaper, safer, and more fun than living alone.
“Lucy, could you meet me at the bus stop tonight?” Emma texted, after another latenight date.
Later, back at the flat, Emma confessed to Lucy about a new bloke shed met on a dating app. Hed rushed in for a kiss, ignored her protests, and insisted they needed to test the chemistry.
“I told him I was uncomfortable, yet he kept leaning in! He said if theres any spark, itll show, otherwise were wasting time. I tried to leave, but he followed. I got scared. Thanks for having my back.”
Emma often shared these datingapp disasters with Lucyunemployed guys asking for taxi money, future husbands still living with their mums, or men who, when asked about their jobs, erupted in accusations of materialism.
She never chased after sugarmoms. Sometimes the men asked what she did and how much she earned. Emma blushed but answered politely, insisting she could look after herself.
“I dont know whats wrong with me,” she sighed after another awkward evening. “All I want is a man wholl treat me right, doesnt drink to excess, can hold a conversation, and has a steady job. If we share interests, thats a bonus.”
“Good luck finding that,” Lucy replied dryly. “Your standards are skyhigh.”
Emma felt lost. She wanted exactly what she was willing to givenothing extravagant. She was on the brink of giving up when James appeared.
James was different. He didnt demand an immediate meetup. Theyd texted for a week before the first date, his messages patient, respectful of Emmas space. He never tried to be clever or overly flirtatious; he simply asked how her day went, and their chats grew into long, thoughtful exchanges.
On their first date, James mentioned he lived alone, worked as a civil engineer, and adored his golden retriever, Max. By the third meeting, he confessed he liked to discuss everything with his words. On the fifth, they played a card game that asked, What does cheating mean to you?
“Its a story I once heard,” James said slowly. “A woman sent her photos to other men, thinking it wasnt cheating because there was no physical act. I disagree. Since then I discuss everythinginfidelity, marriage, kidsby the riverbank.”
“Id feel the same,” Emma agreed, feeling a light breeze of hope stir inside her.
She rushed to tell Lucy the good news.
“It feels like Ive finally found the one, Emma beamed. Hes kind, loves children, listens, compromises, has a solid job, his own flatno one can throw us under the bus if things work out.
“Sounds decent. Got a photo?” Lucy asked.
From that moment, Jamess messages grew sparse. He missed a meeting, citing fatigue, but warned her in advance. He still sent occasional texts and invited her over, though they hadnt seen each other for three days.
Emma blamed his busyness, thinking perhaps hed grown comfortable and didnt need to chat constantly. Still, his onandoff appearances nagged at her.
“This is ridiculous” Emma clutched her head. “Is he dating both of us at the same time?”
Lucy shrugged, indifferent. “He hasnt promised anyone anythingnot me, not you.”
Silence hung heavy. Emma snapped her bag shut and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Lucy called, panic flickering.
“I dont know yet. I cant live here any longer. You stole my man and havent even apologised!”
“What am I supposed to do? Weve got rent and bills due in a week! Youve been splashing water in the bathroom and blowing the fuse!” Lucy snapped, crossing her arms.
“Ask James to let you stay with him, now that youre a couple,” Emma retorted.
“Oh, you and your ideals,” Lucy rolled her eyes.
“I dont need muchjust that the people close to me dont stab me in the back,” Emma said quietly, continuing to pack.
She left without looking back. Standing on the stairwell, she texted her friend Sophie, asking if she could crash for the night. Sophie welcomed her.
Sophie greeted Emma in an oversized tee, hair tied back in a messy ponytail, hands clean but unpolished.
“Sorry, wasnt expecting guests,” Sophie said, setting a tray of wine, bananas, and a loaf of bread with a jar of chocolate spread on the coffee table. It wasnt the most elegant spread, but the warmth was enough.
At first Emma brushed off Sophie’s questions, then slowly unfolded the nights events.
“James was perfect, exactly what Id been looking for,” Emma sighed, eyes downcast. “And Lucy”
“Perfect?” Sophie asked, eyebrows raised. “You mean a man who dates two sisters at once is perfect? He even knew you were related. He must have a whole harem of naïve women.”
Emma bit her lip, thinking. It felt true.
“Be glad hes out of your life,” Sophie snapped. “And Lucy too. Let her get what she deserves. At least you now know her limits.”
Emma lingered in silence, then lifted her glass.
“To the truth!” she toasted.
The weight in her chest still pressed down, but she realised that, sooner or later, this would have happened anyway. Better early than late.
