**Diary Entry A Year of Trials and Unexpected Grace**
Emily couldnt believe what was happening. Her husbandher rock, the man shed trusted above all elsehad just looked her in the eye and said, I dont love you anymore. The shock rooted her to the spot as he buzzed around, shoving clothes into a suitcase and jangling his car keys.
As if she needed this now. Her father had passed suddenly just weeks before, leaving her to shoulder the grief while caring for her grey-haired mother and younger sister, whod been disabled since a traumatic brain injury at eighteen. They lived in the next town over. Her son, James, had just started primary school. In June, her workplace shut down. And now this.
She clutched her head, sank into a chair, and wept. *Lord, what am I supposed to do?* Then*James!* She had to fetch him from school. Duty forced her up and out the door.
Mummy, were you crying?
No, sweetheart.
Was it about Grandad? I miss him so much.
Me too. But we have to be strong. Hed want that.
Wheres Daddy?
Oh, hes away on business. How was school?
Life had to go on. If he didnt love her anymore, so be it. She mustve missed the signs in the whirlwind of daily struggles.
While James ate lunch and played with his toy soldiers, Emily logged into her husbands abandoned laptopsomething shed never done before. His email was still open in the corner.
Thomas hadnt deleted his latest exchange. He was head over heels for someone else. For ten years, shed been his bright little star. After eight years of fertility struggles, shed also become our wonderful mum. Now? Nothing.
First things firstshe needed a job. Her degree meant nothing in the job market. The meagre unemployment benefits wouldnt cover a thing.
What had gone wrong? Her responsible, decent, caring husband had turned into a stranger overnight. The only explanation was madness. Their half-built house, brick by brick, stood unfinished. At least they had a roofone livable room, anyway.
I need work, she whispered, fighting another wave of tears. No time for that.
Days passed with no luck. Between Jamess school and her sudden singlehood, her chances were slim. Then, one evening, her cousin Robert called.
Em, any word from Tom?
No.
Fancy a warehouse job? Part-time.
Youre joking.
Dead serious. I know its not ideal, but its something. Pays £1,000 a month. Well bring you some groceries tomorrowpotatoes, onions, a chicken.
Rob, Ive got my hens. They keep us in eggs.
Good. Keep em. You cant eat layers. Hows Grace?
Managing. Shes a trooper.
Always the same with him. His wife, Grace, was recovering from major surgery and chemo, yet he never complained. Just soldiered on. Emily sighedthere was hope yet. God saw everything. He wouldnt let her down.
The job was simple enough, and the quiet moments let her cry, think, and wonder: *How did this happen?*
Weeks turned to months. A year later, Emily realised she could eat, sleep, laugh againeven take joy in Jamess school achievements. The pain of betrayal resurfaced whenever Thomas took him for weekends. She never interfered; their issues shouldnt hurt the boy.
She wanted to ask, *What did I do wrong?* But she knewit wasnt about her. Just his sudden passion for another woman.
Some film quote floated through her mind: *Love lasts until the first bend in the road, then life begins.* For her, love *was* life. For him?
That autumn felt like summers encorewarm, golden, alive with childrens laughter and chrysanthemums blooming in the garden. The day she met Michaels steady gaze was like any other, just a little brighter. Maybe fate had finally woven their paths together.
Let me help with those bags. Shouldnt be carrying all that.
Im used to it.
Shame. A beauty like you shouldnt be hauling groceries.
Do you just lurk outside shops, rescuing damsels?
Waited all week for one like you.
She couldnt help but laugh. They stood there, wheezing with laughter like fools.
Michael, he said, grinning as he offered his hand.
Emily.
Emily, Emily, fair and freeknow that song?
No. But I *am* free.
Lucky me. Blokes these days must be blind.
Youre quite the charmer. But are you serious about anything?
Deadly. Fancy a film tonight? A chat?
Cant. Need to fetch James from after-school club.
You have a *son*? You look twenty!
Thirty-five.
Same here. But you? Never wouldve guessed.
And now?
Processing. Most blokes dream of having a son. So wheres his dad?
Not up for discussing that.
Fair enough. Weekend, then? Kids matinee?
Weekends are with his father.
No pressure. But if youve a free hour He handed her a business card. *Dr. Michael Whitmore, Paediatric Haematologist.*
Serious job.
Leaves little time for chasing beauties.
Ill call.
That autumn was a giftgolden leaves, warm days, long walks through every park in town. Their tenderness melted the pasts pain, pulling them into a dance under the falling leaves.
Two months later, she shyly invited him for tea.
Em, mind if I host? I want to do this properly.
That weekend, they drove to a rented lodge in the Lake Districtcozy, quiet, like a tiny castle. She barely noticed the decor, lost in his dark eyes, his arms around her. She hadnt known intimacy could feel like this.
Michael, where am I? I think Im dying. I love you. How did I live before you?
Youre perfect. Im the luckiest man alive.
Soon, parting grew unbearable.
Marry me.
My divorce isnt final yet.
Then the minute it is. Before someone steals you.
Im not going anywhere. But no fussjust a registry office, then take me back to that lodge.
Robert and Grace were their only witnesses. James took time to warm to Michael.
Em, lets check Jamess blood. Hes too pale.
Hes just struggling with the divorce.
I get it. My parents split, too. But lets test him, yeah?
The day Michael came home grim-faced, Emily knew.
Leukaemia.
The word was a knife.
Hospital life began. Emily took unpaid leave, holding Jamess hand through needles and IVs. Stay strong, love. Well get through this.
When she was spent, Michael took over. One night, Thomas calleddemanding she sign over the half-built house.
Ill see James at *my* place.
You could visit him *here*.
Cant. Work trip.
Michael squeezed her shoulder. Well manage. Dont cling to the past.
Jamess bloodwork?
Not good yet.
She cried silently. James couldnt see.
Uncle Michael, whats wrong with my blood?
Imagine tiny shipsred and whitebattling inside you.
Whos winning?
White. But help the red ones, okay?
Mum, take me away. Im tired.
They escaped to the lodge. Spring bloomed around them. James even smiled.
Back in hospital, the lab director sought Michael.
Where did you take him?
The Lakes. Why?
His bloods improved. Remission.
Michael sprinted to the ward.
James! Youre getting better! What did you do?
The boy grinned. Remember the ships? I made the red ones win.
**Lesson Learned:** Lifes cruelest twists can lead to its sweetest blessings. Hold on. The storm passes.
