Jealousy Blooms
1745 Words
The next two weeks were a masterclass in restraint.
Emily threw herself into routine with almost religious fervor. Wake at 6:30. Coffee black. Work at her desk until her eyes burned. Lunch at the same café every day turkey avocado wrap, no chips. Evening walks around the neighborhood to burn off the restless energy that settled under her skin like static. Bed by 11 p.m., even if sleep refused to come.
She didn’t text James. He didn’t text her.
Sophia called twice once to complain about Chicago weather, once to invite her to dinner the following Saturday. Emily accepted the second invitation because refusing would require explanation, and explanations were landmines now.
Saturday arrived gray and damp. Emily dressed carefully: dark jeans, soft gray sweater, hair loose. Nothing that screamed effort. Nothing that invited questions.
She arrived at 6:45 with a bottle of the cabernet Sophia liked and a small bouquet of white tulips she’d bought on impulse at the corner market.
Sophia answered the door in a silk blouse and wide-leg trousers, makeup flawless despite the long week.
“You look amazing,” Emily said, handing over the flowers.
Sophia beamed. “Anniversary prep. James is in the kitchen pretending he knows what he’s doing with risotto.”
Emily’s stomach tightened at the name, but she followed Sophia inside.
The house smelled like garlic, lemon, and something buttery. James stood at the stove in a black button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows, stirring slowly. He glanced over when they entered.
“Hey, Em.”
“Hey.”
Their eyes met for the briefest second long enough for memory to flash: foreheads touching, lips brushing, the almost that still haunted her dreams.
Then he looked away, back to the pan.
“Risotto’s almost done,” he said. “Five minutes.”
Sophia wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. “My hero. Smells incredible.”
James smiled down at her, kissed the top of her head. “Anything for the anniversary queen.”
Emily turned away, busying herself with uncorking the wine.
They sat at the dining table candles lit, good plates, the works. Sophia had gone all out: fresh bread, arugula salad, the risotto creamy and fragrant with parmesan and asparagus.
Conversation started light. Sophia’s trip recap. Emily’s latest freelance client (a boutique hotel chain wanting “minimalist luxury” branding). James’s work update new project manager, same old corporate nonsense.
Then Sophia leaned back, wine glass in hand.
“So,” she said, eyes sparkling. “We’re doing the big anniversary thing next weekend. Dinner at that rooftop place downtown James booked it months ago. But I was thinking… maybe we do something smaller first? Like a family thing here? You, Mom, Aunt Clara, a few friends. Low-key. Just to celebrate properly.”
Emily forced a smile. “Sounds nice.”
James nodded. “We can grill. Keep it casual.”
Sophia turned to him. “And I was thinking… maybe invite Lauren from your office. She’s been asking about us forever, and you said she’s single now. It’d be nice to have more people.”
Emily’s fork paused.
James glanced at Sophia. “Lauren? The one from accounting?”
“Yeah. She’s sweet. And funny. You always say she makes those endless meetings bearable.”
James shrugged. “Sure. If you want.”
Emily stared at her plate. The risotto suddenly tasted like ash.
Lauren. She’d heard the name before casually dropped in stories about office life. The woman who always brought donuts on Fridays. Who laughed at James’s dry humor. Who, apparently, had recently become single.
Sophia continued, oblivious. “I just think it’d be fun. Balance out the family vibe. Plus, she’s gorgeous. Long red hair, killer smile. You’ve seen her i********:, right Em?”
Emily hadn’t. But now the image burned into her mind: red hair, confident laugh, someone who could sit next to James at a table and not feel like she was trespassing.
“Yeah,” Emily managed. “I’ve seen.”
James’s gaze flicked to her quick, concerned but he said nothing.
The rest of dinner passed in a blur. Dessert chocolate tart Sophia had picked up from the bakery. Coffee. Laughter over old stories.
But Emily’s mind was elsewhere.
When Sophia excused herself to take a work call “Just five minutes, promise” Emily and James were left alone at the table.
He cleared his throat. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Emily met his eyes. “Who’s Lauren?”
James sighed. “Just a coworker. We work on the same floor. That’s it.”
“Sophia seems to like her.”
“She likes everyone.”
Emily’s voice dropped. “She’s inviting her to your anniversary dinner.”
James rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not a big deal. Sophia’s just being Sophia trying to make things lively.”
Emily laughed softly, bitterly. “Right. Lively.”
He leaned forward slightly. “Emily”
“Don’t.”
“I’m not interested in Lauren.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“But I want to.” His voice was low, urgent. “Because I know what you’re thinking. And it’s not true.”
Emily looked away. “What am I thinking?”
“That she’s a threat. That she’s… better. Younger. Freer. Someone who doesn’t come with all this guilt and history.”
Emily’s throat burned. “Isn’t she?”
“No.” He reached across the table hesitated then pulled back. “She’s nice. She flirts sometimes little comments, touches on the arm during meetings. But it’s harmless office stuff. I shut it down. Every time.”
Emily swallowed. “Does Sophia know?”
“She knows Lauren’s friendly. She doesn’t know the flirting part because there’s nothing to know. It stops at compliments.”
Emily nodded slowly. But the image wouldn’t leave. Lauren laughing at James’s jokes, leaning in close, no shadows between them.
Sophia breezed back in. “Sorry about that. Crisis averted. Now where were we?”
They wrapped up soon after. Emily made excuses about an early morning. Hugs at the door. Promises to text about the party details.
James walked her to her car.
At the driver’s door, he stopped her with a quiet hand on her arm.
“Emily.”
She looked up.
“I don’t want anyone else,” he said. “Not Lauren. Not anyone.”
The words hung between them.
Emily searched his face. “Then why does it feel like I’m losing something I never had?”
He exhaled roughly. “Because we’re both trying to pretend this isn’t happening. And it’s killing us.”
She nodded once. Got in the car.
He stepped back.
She drove away without looking in the rearview mirror.
The next few days were quiet. Too quiet.
Then Thursday evening, a text from Sophia.
Sophia: Party’s on! Saturday at 7. Mom and Aunt Clara confirmed. I invited Lauren too she’s excited. Can’t wait!
Emily stared at the screen until it blurred.
Saturday came too fast.
Emily arrived fashionably late 7:15 with a bottle of champagne and a carefully neutral expression.
The backyard was lit with string lights, tables set with candles, music playing softly. Mom and Aunt Clara were already there, laughing over wine. A few of Sophia’s work friends milled around. And Lauren.
She was exactly as described tall, red hair cascading in loose waves, emerald dress that hugged her figure perfectly. She stood near the grill talking to James, laughing at something he said, hand lightly touching his forearm.
Emily felt it like a punch.
Sophia spotted her first. “Em! There you are!”
She pulled Emily into the group.
“Everyone, this is my sister Emily. Em this is Lauren from James’s office.”
Lauren smiled bright, genuine. “Hi! Sophia’s told me so much about you. Nice to finally meet.”
Emily forced a smile. “Likewise.”
Lauren’s eyes were warm. Friendly. No malice.
That made it worse.
The evening unfolded in slow motion.
James manned the grill steaks, vegetables, everything perfect. Sophia floated between groups, radiant in a cream sundress. Lauren helped with drinks, charming everyone effortlessly.
Emily stayed on the periphery. Talking to Mom. Helping Aunt Clara with her plate. Avoiding the spot where James and Lauren stood side by side, laughing over some shared work story.
At one point, Lauren leaned in to say something quietly to James. He smiled small, polite but it was enough.
Jealousy bloomed hot and ugly in Emily’s chest.
She excused herself to the kitchen for water.
James followed a minute later.
They were alone.
He closed the door softly.
“You’re avoiding me,” he said.
“I’m avoiding her.”
“Emily”
“She’s perfect for you,” Emily whispered. “No baggage. No sister. No guilt. She can laugh at your jokes without wondering if she’s betraying someone she loves.”
James stepped closer. “Stop.”
“I can’t. I see her touching your arm and I want to scream. I see her smiling at you and I hate her. I hate that I hate her because she’s done nothing wrong.”
He reached for her hand. She let him take it.
“I don’t want her,” he said fiercely. “I want you. Every stupid, complicated, forbidden inch of you.”
Emily’s breath hitched.
“Then why are we doing this?” she asked. “Why are we letting her stand there like she belongs?”
“Because I’m married to your sister,” he said, voice breaking. “And every time I think about crossing that line for real, I remember what it would do to her. To you. To all of us.”
Emily pulled her hand away. “I know.”
He looked wrecked. “I’m trying to be the good guy. But I’m failing.”
They stood inches apart, breathing the same air.
Then Sophia’s voice called from outside: “James? The steaks are ready!”
He stepped back. “Coming!”
Emily stayed in the kitchen a minute longer, pressing cold palms to her cheeks.
When she returned to the party, Lauren was still there smiling, laughing, fitting in perfectly.
Emily watched from the shadows.
Jealousy didn’t fade.
It rooted deeper.
And she knew deep in her bones that if something didn’t break soon, the jealousy would break her first.
- Writer
