**Everyone Stumbles, Not Everyone Straightens Up**
“Charlotte, where on earth will you find a man like that? You can always get divorced later. A married woman always has an advantage. All the responsibility falls on the husband, while the other man has his hands freeno obligations, just enjoy the silly little mistress while you can. But if you end up alone, no one will look twice at you. Especially with Oliver growing up. He needs his real father, not some stranger. Theres no logic in what youre doing,” I genuinely tried to talk sense into my childhood friend.
Yet, I knew I was wasting my breath. Charlotte had already made up her mind.
Life often forces us to choose. There are always two pathsthe right one and any other. But whos there to open the right doors and close the wrong ones? Sometimes, people refuse to listen to even the soundest advice. We learn from our own mistakes, never from the wisdom of those who came before us. Then we cry, regret, and wallow in misery.
I have two close friends: Charlotte and Emily. Weve known each other since childhood. Charlotte grew up next door, Emily was my schoolmate. We know everything about each other, as only the closest friends can.
The three of us are so different that Ive always kept my friendships with Charlotte and Emily separate. Once, I tried to bring them together, but alas My friends are like night and day.
“How can you stand that overdressed doll? What could you possibly talk to her about? All she cares about is designer clothes and married men,” Charlotte hissed after meeting Emily.
“Your friends neckline plunges to her navel. Clearly a hussy. Her eyes are hunting for a man with a fat wallet. That smile of hers is so fake. Everythings just for show. And that botched plastic surgery is painfully obvious,” Charlotte scoffed, scrutinising Emily.
Their first meeting was their last. The girls’ night out was ruined. I never tried to unite them again.
Over the years, weve had it allarguments, misunderstandings, reconciliations, months of sulky silence you name it.
Now, all three of us are in our forties. Charlotte has a son, Emily has a daughter.
Charlotte divorced her husband, James, long ago. It all started so romantically.
They met in a café. At the time, James was married with a daughter. Charlotte, undeniably, is striking and unconventionalmen often turn their heads when she walks by. Shes always been bold and unforgettable. She studied at art school, sews her own unique outfits, though some would say theyre a bit too revealing. Charlotte dreamed of her own business, a solid marriage, a loving husband.
And for a while, she had it all. Until it melted away like snow in the sun. Worse, Charlotte herself had a hand in its undoing. She always preferred charging ahead at a yellow light rather than waiting for green.
James, smitten, left his wife without a second thought. They threw a lavish wedding. Then came the daily grind. James adored Charlotte. He was eighteen years her senior and treated her like a beloved daughter, calling her “Mousey.” *Mousey, want a trip to Paris? Done! A new car? No problem! The latest sewing machine? Here you go! A little lip filler? My treat!*
Charlottes every whim was indulged as if by magic. Of course, James wasnt perfectno man is. He had his complaints. *Why isnt dinner ready? Why is the flat a mess? Why is my shirt wrinkled?* Charlotte would silence him with a deep kiss. So hed fry his own eggs, vacuum, heat up the iron
Charlotte was Jamess third wife. No wonder he feared losing her, forgiving every domestic shortcoming.
Charlotte gave birth to Oliver. James worshipped the boy. Charlotte? Not so much. She slipped out more often, leaving Oliver with James or his mother. With her looks, temptation was never far. As her closest friend, I knew all about her affairs. James suspected but stayed silent. *Shes so much youngermaybe she just needs more love,* the deceived husband reasoned.
After eight years, the marriage hit a crisis. They say the seven-year itch is realsome couples survive it, others dont.
By then, Charlotte had built a successful business. She was financially secure. And she decided she no longer needed James. She left him, taking Oliver. She rented a flat, settled in, and announced:
“I *hate* James. Hes useless in bed. I hope some other woman snaps him up so hell leave me and Oliver alone.”
Well, as they say, *a woman will twist like a snake to get her way.*
Oliver became the battleground. He loved both parents equally. But Charlotte, the busy businesswoman, was rarely home, while life with Dad (and doting Grandma) was calmer. So Oliver moved in with James.
Charlotte knew she was torn between work and her son but refused to change. James called endlessly, begged her to return, even tried using Oliver to manipulate her. But Charlotte stood firm:
“No going back. Full stop, no commas.”
Charlotte was young, beautiful, and practically free. Then along came another mana colleague. Never mind that he was married with two kids. That didnt faze her:
“His wife should keep a closer eye on him. Ill borrow him and give him back. No harm done.”
She jetted off with him to Germany, Greece It was all whirlwind romance.
True to her word, she “borrowed” him for six months before returning him. James still called, pleading. It annoyed her. Then she met Danielher age, unattached. Love blossomed. Daniel moved in.
At first, things were fine. Then came the red flags: Daniel liked a tipple too many. And work? Not his strong suit.
“Charlotte, maybe I could help you with the business?”
The scales fell from her eyes.
“Emily, I think Ive taken in a freeloader with a drinking problem.”
“Kick him out, Charlotte! Hes latched onto you like a leech,” I advised.
Then an old classmate called:
“Charlotte, hope you dont mindJames and I are getting married. Im so happy with him!”
“May you walk the same path forever,” Charlotte replied coolly.
And so, Charlotte was alone. Oliver, now nineteen, cut ties. She calls, but he ignores her. Once, he answered:
“Dads wife raised me. Focus on your business, Mum. Stop calling.”
Meanwhile, Emily had the sense to weather *her* crisis.
She met Victor on holiday. Hed tagged along with a frienddespite having a wife. (Ill never understand spouses who let each other holiday solo where temptation lurks. Asking for trouble.)
Soon, Emily announced her engagement. The holiday fling became a weddingtwo, actually, since Victor was from out of town. She moved in with him. We saw less of each other but spoke often, so I kept up with her marital ups and downs.
Victor adored Emily. He built her a beautiful home, kitted it out, bought two cars. They had a daughter, Lily. Victor anticipated Emilys every whimdesigner clothes, shoes, cosmetics.
Emily got a second degree, though she didnt need to work. Victor provided everything, proud to do so. Emilys life revolved around herself and Lily. She visited her hometown occasionally, missing it at first, but soon grew roots in her new life.
All shouldve been well. But no.
After seven years, Emily decided on divorce. *The loves gone,* she claimed. Her parents, Victors mother, even Victor were baffled. Emily stayed with Lily at her parents, refusing to return.
“Emily, Im *bored* with Victor. Sick to death of him! My hearts frozen. His jealousys suffocating. Even his roses annoy mepricked my fingers bloody.”
“Of course. Spoilt rotten. Roses irritate her, no less Watch out, Emilysomeonell snatch him if youre not careful.”
Emily, glamorous and self-assured, always turned heads. Victor, madly jealous, tried winning her back. But Emily was set on ending it.
The standoff lasted two years. Then, finally, a thaw. They reunited. Victor still works tirelessly to spoil his family.
Maldives, Venice, Italy Emily, Victor, and Lily have seen them all.
Once, she confessed:
“I almost lost the most important person…”
