**Diary Entry**
The man of my dreams left his wife for me, but I had no idea what was coming.
Id been smitten with him since my university days, back when I lived in a quiet village near Manchester. It was that foolish, all-consuming lovethe kind that makes you lose your head. When he finally noticed me years later, any sense I had left vanished. Fate reunited us at the same law firm. Shared ambitions, shared interestsI took it as a sign, a fairy tale about to unfold.
He seemed perfect, plucked straight from my fantasies. That he was married didnt bother me thenI didnt understand the wreckage left behind when vows break. I felt no guilt when Daniel left his wife for me. Whod have thought that choice would lead to such sorrow? The old sayings true: you cant build happiness on someone elses pain.
When he chose me, I floated on air, ready to forgive anything. But in reality, he was no prince. His clothes littered our flat, he refused to lift a finger with chores, and the burden of housework fell to me. I ignored itlove blinded me, made me soft, obedient.
He forgot his first marriage fast, as though erasing it. No children, he claimed, and the wedding had been his in-laws idea. With you, its different. Youre my destiny, hed whisper, and Id melt. My happiness burned bright but brief, like a spark. Everything changed when I got pregnant.
At first, Daniel was overjoyedhis child, ours! We threw a lavish party, inviting friends and family. The toasts, the well-wishesthat night glows in my memory, a flicker of warmth before the darkness. I dont regret it, but after that, my blind love began to fade, like a candle in the wind.
As my belly grew, I saw less of him. I took maternity leave; his evenings were spent working late, at company events. At first, I endured it. Soon, it was unbearable. Pregnant and exhausted, I waded through his messdirty socks, shirts strewn about, silent accusations. Had we rushed into this? Love cools with time, I knew, but not this fast.
He still brought flowers, chocolatesempty gestures. I wanted his presence, his support. Then the truth surfaced. A coffee-shop chat with colleagues opened my eyes: a new, bright-eyed recruit had joined his team. The office was understaffed, my leave making it worse. Coincidence? Maybe. But clearly, Daniel had someone else. His life now revolved around work, meetings, and emergencies. One day, I found a note in his jacket pocketinitials I didnt recognise. My chest tightened, but I slipped it back, pretending not to see. Fear of facing the seventh month alone paralysed me.
He accused me of being always on edge, sighing as if *I* were the burden. I avoided confronting himI knew itd be the end. Then it came. The worst words Ive ever heard: Im not ready for a child. Theres someone else. How he said it, I cant recallmy world crumbled. I thought Id go mad from the hurt.
But I found strength. I filed for divorce, each word on the papers like a blow. He never expected me to kick him out the next day. Thankfully, the flat was rentedno fighting over it.
And the baby? he spat. How will you manage?
Ill manage. Ill work from home. My parents will help. Mum always said you were a womaniserI shouldve listened. I shut the door.
My son gave me courage I never knew I had. Alone, I mightve stayed. For him, I left. Daniels betrayal was so vile, I scrubbed him from my life like hed never existed. The scales fell from my eyes.
The months afterbirth includedwere hell. I moved back to my parents in a nearby town. They welcomed us, doting on their grandson. I missed Daniel sometimes, but pushed it aside. Deep down, I knew Id done right.
Once recovered, I took on legal translations from home. Some months were lean, but my parents helped until I built a client list. My son grewyears slipped by unnoticed. The realisation hit when he needed his own space. My parents resisted, but I craved independence: an office for me, a room for his studies. By then, I could afford to rent.
Life improved. Nursery turned to primary school, then secondaryfor the first time in years, I breathed easy. Then Daniel returned. Our small legal circles meant he found my office effortlessly. I wished Id moved farther.
He claimed hed grown, regretted the past, called himself young and stupid. Now he wants to meet our son*his* sonwhom hes never seen.
Legally, he has the right. The thought chills me. Weeks have passed since that talk. I said Id think on it, but my minds in chaosI dont trust him. Is this my punishment? The price for stealing him away? Im tempted to move again, to outrun the past pounding at my door.
**Lesson:** Some fairy tales are warnings in disguise.
