**Diary Entry June 14th**
When Charlotte married, she was twenty-five. No longer a naive girl dreaming of princes on white horses, she had a stable income, a flat left to her by her grandmother, and a clear sense of what she wanted from life.
To her, marriage was about honesty, mutual support, sharing everything equallyand, of course, love. Forever.
And Daniel was the kind of man you couldnt help but fall for. Intelligent, calm, well-mannered. Always kept his word, never raised his voice, never lied. Being with him felt safe. Almost too safe.
They spent nearly eight years together. Their son, Oliver, was born.
Then, somehow, it all started crumbling. Mounting bills, chronic exhaustion, unspoken words, a growing distanceand finally, silence.
There were no affairs, no screaming matches, no dramatic scenes.
They simply stopped being one. A family.
When Daniel said he was leaving, Charlotte didnt cry. She just exhaled:
“Where to?”
He shrugged.
Strangely, she felt no resentment. Weariness? Yes. Emptiness? Absolutely. But no anger. Just indifference.
***
Three months later, Daniel married his colleague. Quietly, but officially.
Charlotte was surprised but didnt interfere. No hysterics, no demands, no arguments over child support.
And to his credit, Daniel was decent. The money arrived on time, without reminders.
He didnt just see Oliver on weekendshe picked him up after school, helped with homework, attended school plays, took him cycling in the park.
Charlotte appreciated that, so she kept things civil. Mature.
She remained calm when they spoke, didnt hurl accusations, attended parents evenings together.
Years passed.
She had her job, her friends, her stability.
Daniel was happy in his new marriage.
Oliver grew up without causing trouble.
***
One evening, he asked hesitantly:
“Mum, can I stay with Dad for a bit? They have a cat Dad and Aunt Emma have been inviting me for ages.”
Charlottes heart clenched, but she smiled, ruffled his hair, and let him go.
***
For the first few days, they texted and called. Oliver sent photos of the cat, said his dad made amazing pancakes, and Emma let him stay on his tablet till nine.
Charlotte liked the texts, replied with “Brilliant!” and, just in case, “Dont forget to brush your teeth.”
Then the phone went silent.
Two daysno messages, no calls. At first, she didnt interfere. Maybe he was just busy, enjoying himself. But by the third day, unease settled in.
Daniel hadnt texted either. Usually, thered be a quick “All fine, hes asleep” or “Picked him up from school.” This timenothing.
She knew it wasnt a tragedy. She just missed him.
And she was angry.
Not at Oliverat herself. For the emptiness in the flat. For letting him go. For another woman now making his soup, saying “goodnight” and “good morning.”
And hed left in such a rush. Forgotten his pyjamas, his trainers, his favourite book about knights.
So she went.
To them.
***
She stood at the door, hesitating
The bag of his things clutched tightly, as if it could steady her.
Her heart pounded
Finally, she took a breath and rang the bell.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
A woman stood thereolder than Charlotte, slightly taller, slender, with a soft face, as if lit from within. No makeup. A worn grey jumper. Hair loosely tied, strands framing her face.
Not glamorous.
Not striking.
But warm. Quiet. Comfortable
“And this is her?” Charlotte thought. “The one Daniel chose so quickly?”
“Hello,” the woman said softly, voice husky. “Youre Charlotte?”
Charlotte nodded.
“I brought some of Olivers things. He forgot them.”
She held out the bag, suddenly searching the womans eyes for any hint of awkwardness.
But Emma just looked back, calm and steady.
“Why did he marry her so fast? What does she have?” Charlotte wondered.
“Come in,” Emma stepped aside.
“Thanks. I wont stay long.”
“Olivers not here,” Emma said apologetically. “Hes at his grandparents.”
“I know,” Charlotte nodded. “And I honestly, I didnt come for him.”
“Tea?”
“If thats alright”
They went to the kitchen. Simple but cosya pale tablecloth, the kettle already humming, as if Emma had expected her.
“Sugar?” Emma asked, reaching for mugs.
“No, thanks.” Charlotte perched on the edge of a chair. “Just plain.”
Silence.
“Oliver mentioned you have a cat,” Charlotte said, avoiding the real question.
“Yes, he adores her,” Emma smiled. “Wont put her down. Mistys fussydoesnt like everyone. But she took to him straight away. Hes a sweet boy.”
“Thanks,” Charlotte looked down. “He speaks highly of you too. I was worried Thought maybe you wouldnt get on.”
“No need. Hes at home here. Sometimes I worry youll think Im stealing him away.”
Charlotte shook her head slightly.
“Stealing? Hes not a thing. If hes happy Im glad.”
“How long have you known Daniel?” she asked, as if casually.
“A while,” Emma said calmly. “We worked together once.”
Charlotte raised an eyebrow.
“No, no,” Emma caught her tone and smiled. “Nothing happened. He was married. I dont cross that line. We were just friends. Easy, kind friends.”
Charlotte hung on every word.
“After your divorce,” Emma continued, “he called me. Just to talk. I think he was struggling, and I was someone safe.”
She took a sip, meeting Charlottes gaze directly.
“Thats when it changed. Suddenly. You know how it isone day, out of nowhere, *bang*. And everything shifts.”
Charlotte stayed silent. Seemed calm. Only the slight tremor in her hands betrayed her.
“You want to know what went wrong with you?” Emma asked gently.
Charlotte flinched.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Ive thought about it constantly.”
Emma paused.
“Nothing was wrong. Youre strong, smart, beautiful. You were just too steady for him. Too *needed*.”
She hesitated.
“He didnt know who he was yet.”
Charlotte clenched her fingers.
“So I smothered him?”
“No,” Emma shook her head. “You did your bestheld everything together, planned, cared. But I think he wanted to be *wanted*, not just necessary. Understand?”
Charlotte stayed quiet. Her face paled slightly.
“Whats he like with you?”
Emma smiled.
“Just himself. Real. Sometimes tired, sometimes grumpy. Not a hero, not a provider. Just human. We dont try to fix each other. We just exist. Together.”
“Is that love?” Charlotte whispered.
“Maybe. It often comes after the storms. When you stop trying to prove something and just live.”
Charlotte leaned back, her eyes scanning the kitchensimple, lived-in, *real*.
“I always wanted everything to be perfect,” she murmured. “Dinner on time. Oliver well-rested. No digging in the garden, just relaxing. Clean shirts. No fizzy drinks. I thought that was love.”
Emma stayed quiet, letting her talk. Misty purred in her lap, ignoring the guest.
“Once,” Charlotte said thoughtfully, “Daniel came home late. I snappedwhy didnt he call, dinner was cold. He said, I was sitting by the river. Watching the water.”
“And you?” Emma asked softly.
“I told him he shouldve warned me. Sharp, like that. He just looked at me so sad. Then went to shower. Stayed there forever.”
She stared at her hands.
“Back then, I thought I was right. Now I wonderif Id just hugged him instead”
“You were who you knew how to be,” Emma said. “We all make mistakes. Without you, he wouldnt be who he is now. He grew with you. And hes grateful.”
Charlotte looked up.
“He talks about the past?”
“Not often. But with respect. No anger. Only pain when he mentions Oliver.”
Charlotte exhaled.
“Oliver Hes angry at him. But I never encouraged it. It just hurt too much.”
“I understand,” Emma nodded. “A boy needs his father. Even an imperfect one.”
“Thats why he asks to come here. For the cat,” Charlotte said with a faint smile. “Found an excuse Doesnt know how else to say it.”
“Olivers kind. And clever. Hell never leave you. But let me be here sometimes.”
Tears
