**Diary Entry**
Emily couldnt believe what was happening to her. Her husband, the man shed trusted as her rock and support, had just said, I dont love you anymore. The shock froze her in place as he rushed around, packing his things and jangling his keys.
As if she needed more pain. Her father had passed suddenly, leaving her to care for her grieving mum and younger sister, disabled since a traumatic brain injury at eighteen. They lived in a nearby town. Her son, Oliver, had just started primary school. In June, her workplace shut down. Now this.
Emily buried her face in her hands and sobbed. God, what do I do? How do I go on? Then Oh no, Ollie! I have to fetch him from school! Duty forced her up.
Mum, were you crying?
No, sweetheart.
Is it because of Grandad? I miss him too.
So do I, love. But we must be strong. Hed want that.
Wheres Dad?
Oh hes away on business. How was school?
She had to keep going. If he didnt love her, fine. You cant force affection. She mustve missed something in the chaos.
While Ollie ate and played with his toy soldiers, Emily logged into her husbands abandoned computersomething shed never done before. His email was right there, unguarded.
James hadnt deleted his latest messages. He was deep in lovejust not with her. For ten years, shed been his sunshine. After years struggling to conceive, she became our little mum. Now, it was over. Shed adjust.
First, she needed work. No one cared about her degree. The meagre unemployment benefits barely covered anything.
What had happened? How had her steady, caring husband become a stranger overnight? There was only one explanation: hed lost his mind. Their half-built house stood unfinished, but at least the roof held.
I need a job, Emily whispered, fighting tears. No time for them.
Days of searching led nowhere. With Ollie in school and no help, her chances were slim. Then her cousin Thomas called.
Em, any word from James?
No.
Fancy a warehouse job? Part-time. Pays £25k. Not much, but
Seriously?
I know its rough after James. But its flexibleschool runs, holidays sorted. Well bring spuds and a chicken tomorrow.
Weve got hens, Tom. They keep us in eggs.
Good. Dont slaughter em. Hows Sarah?
Managing. Shes a trooper.
Typical Tom. His wife had survived major surgery, endured chemo, yet he never complained. Just all good. Emily sighed. A chance to survive. Thank GodHe never fails.
The job was simple, leaving her moments to cry, to wonder: *Why?*
Days turned to weeks, then months. A year later, Emily realised she could eat, sleep, even laugh at Ollies antics. The pain resurfaced when James fetched him on weekends. She never stopped himtheir son shouldnt suffer. She burned to ask *why*, but knew the truth: James had fallen for someone else.
A film line haunted her: *Love lasts till the first bend; then life begins.* For her, love and life were one. For him?
That autumn lingered like summerwarm, golden. The day she met Michael was unremarkable, save for the sun shining brighter, music drifting from a neighbours window. Fates plan.
Let me help, love. You shouldnt carry all that.
Im used to it.
Shamesomeone so lovely shouldnt be.
Do you rescue every pretty girl outside shops?
Waited ages for one like you.
She laughed. So did herich, helpless laughter.
Michael, he said, grinning.
Emily.
Emily, Emily, not a wifeknow that song?
No. And Im not one.
Blimey. Finally met a dream girl, and shes free. Is everyone else blind?
They chatted easily. He asked her to the cinema.
Cant. Need to fetch my son.
Youve a kid? You look twenty!
Thirty-five.
Same as me. But youre stunning.
And now?
Processing. Most blokes dream of a son. Wheres his dad?
Id rather not say.
Fair. Weekend, then? Kids matinee?
He sees his dad weekends.
Michael handed her a card. Call if youre free. Im a paediatric haematologist.
Serious job.
No time to chase beauties.
Ill call, she said simply.
Autumn blazed gold for themparks, laughter, stolen moments. Weeks later, she invited him for tea.
Not at yours, he said. This matters too much.
That weekend, they escaped to a rented lodge in the Lake District. Cosy, quiet. She drowned in his brown eyes, his arms. Shed never known such sweetness.
Michael, where am I? I love you so.
Youre perfect.
Months later, he proposed.
Marry me.
My divorce finalises this month.
Then marry me. Before someone steals you.
Im no ones but yours. No fussjust us.
Tom and Sarah witnessed their registry wedding. Mum and sister sent cheers. They moved into Michaels flat, making it home.
Ollie, torn between parents, resisted Michaeluntil he noticed the boys pallor.
Em, lets test his blood.
Hes just stressed. Divorce hurts kids more than death.
I know. Mine divorced. But well check, eh, champ?
That evening, Michael returned grim.
His bloods off. Leukaemia.
Life became hospital corridors. Emily took unpaid leave, holding Ollie through needles, whispers of *Stay strong*. When she broke, Michael stayed.
James called, demanding she leave their unfinished house.
Focus on Ollie, Michael soothed. Well build anew.
Thenhope. A weekend away revived Ollies colour. Back at the hospital, tests stunned the staff.
His bloods improving. Remission.
Michael burst in, elated. Ollie! What did you do?
The boy grinned. Remember your ship story? I made the red ones win.
**Lesson:** Lifes storms break us, but lovetrue, patient loverebuilds. Sometimes, the fiercest battles are fought by the smallest warriors.
