He Chose His Career Over Me

“You chose work over me,” Emily said, her voice trembling. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. How could you? Your bloody job, your endless calls, your constant business trips!” She swept a mug off the table, sending it crashing against the wall, coffee splattering like spilled ink.

“Stop being childish,” James replied calmly, which only infuriated her more. She was boiling inside while he stood there like a statue. “I cant cancel this trip, Emily. This is about the promotionits non-negotiable.”

“The promotion?” She nearly choked on her anger. “Your career always, always comes first! You missed Lucys graduation, forgot my birthday even though I reminded you a week in advance! And now this? Bens surgery is in two days, and youre jetting off to bloody Manchester!”

“Birmingham,” he corrected automatically, then clenched his jaw.

“Oh, fantastic! Might as well be the moon!” She flung her arms up. “You wont be there when your son goes under anaesthesiawhen hes terrified, when Im losing my mind with worry! All for some pointless contract!”

James exhaled sharply and rubbed his face. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, stubble uneven, but his stubborn gaze never wavered.

“This isnt just any contractits the CFO position, Emily. Twenty years of my life leading to this. And Bens surgery is routinejust tonsils, not some brain tumour!”

“And what if something goes wrong?” Her nails dug into her palms. “What then?”

“Nothing will. I spoke to the doctor.”

“But if it does?” Her voice hit a shrill pitch.

“For Gods sake, sit down!” He jerked his shoulders. “If theres an emergency, Ill catch the first flight back! Like when Lucy had her appendix out, remember?”

“Oh, I remember!” Her laugh was bitter. “You stumbled in eight hours latedoctors had gone home, but there you were, the conquering hero!”

James shook his head. “Im not made of elastic, Em. Im killing myself so we have everything. Or did you forget how you nagged me for that new house? ‘The neighbours are loud, the streets filthy, the Tubes too far'”

“Id rather still be in that tiny flat!” she snapped. “With a proper husband and father who actually sees his kids, not just on Sundays after lunch!”

James collapsed into a chair, the wood creaking under his weight. “We had a deal, remember? You handle home, kids, all of it. I work myself to the bone to provide. What changed?”

Emily opened her mouth to retaliate, but the front door slammed, and the chatter of their children filled the hall, backpacks thudding to the floor.

“Fine. Well talk later,” she muttered, forcing a smile so tight it hurt.

James opened his laptop. The presentation wasnt finished, but his mind was foggy, thoughts scattered.

Later, with the kids asleep, Emily scrolled mindlessly through her phone at the kitchen table. The tears had dried; she just felt numb. Twenty-two years of marriage, and somehow, their life had become a balance sheetincome, expenses, assets, liabilities. When had it all gotten so complicated?

James walked in and sat across from her.

“Coffee?” she asked, not looking up.

“Please.” He hesitated. “Emily, we need to talk.”

“About what?” She flicked the kettle on. “Its obvious. Youre flying out the day after tomorrow. Ben and I will manage alone.”

“Listen.” He stood and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I know this is hard for you. But this matters to me.”

“More than we do?” She turned, and in her eyes, he saw exhaustion, not anger.

“Everything I do is for you,” he said quietly.

“No, James.” She shook her head. “Its for your ego, your career. Weve been an afterthought for years.”

“Thats not true.”

“Isnt it? When Ben talked about his surgery, do you know what he said? ‘At least its during Dads triphed stress about missing work.’ Hes eleven, James. Hes learned to schedule around you.”

James had no reply.

“And Lucy asked yesterday if youd make her uni graduation next year. Not because she wants you therebut because shes scared youll be ‘busy with something important.'”

“Ill try to be there,” he muttered.

“‘Try.'” She echoed him flatly. “Always ‘try.’ And when did I realise youd chosen work over me? When I had the miscarriage. Ten years ago. You flew in two days after I was discharged.”

“I was in negotiations in Hong Kong”

“Exactly.” She turned back to the coffee. “You were negotiating. I was losing our baby. Alone.”

“You never talked about it.”

“Would it have changed anything? Youd have apologised, promised it wouldnt happen again, then done the same thing the next time.”

James pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maybe you should talk to someone. A therapist.”

“Oh, brilliant. So the problems me, is it? Not the fact that my husbands a glorified lodger who tops up the bank account?”

“I didnt mean that. Youre overreacting.”

“Am I?” She spun around. “When was the last parents evening you attended? Do you even know Bens teachers name? Or what Lucys dissertation is about?”

Silence.

“Thats what I thought,” she said, sliding his coffee across the table. “Youve missed our life, James. And youre still missing it.”

He took a sip and wincedtoo strong, like always when she was upset.

“Ill take leave this summer,” he offered. “Well go away as a family.”

“Lucys backpacking through Cornwall with friends,” Emily reminded him. “And Bens signed up for football camp.”

“You couldve told me before planning!” Irritation crept into his voice for the first time.

“I did. Twice. You said, ‘Sort it, well see.’ So we sorted it.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. I dont remember.”

“Know what terrifies me?” Her gaze fixed somewhere past him. “Im starting to think lifes easier without you. When youre home, I keep hoping youll actually be presentnot just physically. And every time, Im disappointed.”

“What do you want from me?” he asked. “To turn down the promotion? Quit?”

“I want our kids to have a father, not a walking ATM. I want a husband, not a housemate who occasionally sleeps here.”

“I cant throw away my career at fifty,” he said firmly. “Its too late to start over.”

“No ones asking you to. Just find balance.”

“Im trying!” His voice rose, then dropped, remembering the kids. “But you know what my role demands”

“Your role, your salary, your responsibilities,” she cut in. “I know the script by heart. Meanwhile, the kids are growing up without you. So am I.”

“Youre being unfair. I always make time on weekends.”

“When work doesnt interfere,” she clarified. “Which happens once a month, if were lucky.”

Silence. Outside, cars hummed; inside, only the fridge droned and the clock ticked.

“I cant cancel the trip,” he said finally. “But Ill push it back a day to take Ben to the hospital.”

“Youve already booked flights.”

“Ill change them.” He set his jaw. “And Ill call every hour until hes out of surgery.”

She gave a joyless laugh. “Think thatll fix everything?”

“No,” he admitted. “But its a start. I dont want to lose you, Emily. Truly.”

“You already have,” she said softly. “And I dont know if we can get that back.”

—

The hospital corridor buzzed with voices and footsteps. Emily sat rigidly by the operating theatre, clutching her bag strap. Ben had been in for over an hourthe surgeon had promised forty minutes.

Beside her, Lucy stared at her phone but kept glancing anxiously at the doors.

“Wheres Dad?” she asked suddenly.

“You knowhis trip.”

“Yeah, but he promised to call.”

Emily checked her watch. “He must be in a meeting. Probably forgot.”

“Classic,” Lucy muttered.

Before Emily could reply, the doors swung open. The surgeon stepped out, mask down.

“All went well,” he said. “Bens in recovery. You can see him in an hour.”

“Thank you,” Emily breathed, relief prickling her eyes.

Lucy squeezed her hand. “We should call Dad.”

Emily dialled, but it went to voicemail. She texted instead: *Surgery went fine. Ben in recovery. Doctor says hes okay.*

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