**Diary Entry**
It all started the moment little Emily first heard the word divorce. Of course, she didnt fully grasp its meaning then, but her gut told her it was something bad. Her family had been smalljust her, her mum, and her dad. It had seemed like nothing could shatter their little world of happiness and harmony.
Life had been calm and steady. Every morning followed the same routine: Emily waking to her mums gentle voice calling her for breakfast, while her dad brewed coffee and glanced at the news. Evenings were for familywatching films or playing board games. Those nights became her brightest childhood memories.
Then, one evening, everything changed. Her mum sat at the kitchen table, twisting a napkin nervously in her hands. When her dad walked in, his face was grim. An invisible wall seemed to rise between them, the air thick with tension.
We need to talk, he said solemnly.
Emily sat in the corner of the room, her heart pounding. She watched their strained expressions as her mum nodded silently, shoulders hunched in reluctant agreement. Hours of arguing and muffled sobs followed. Emily buried herself under the duvet, hands pressed over her ears, but every word cut through. The worst was hearing her mums cryraw with pain.
The next morning, her dad packed his things and left. Emily stood by the window, tears blurring her vision as she watched him go. Alone with her mum, she realised her world had shattered.
The days that followed were a blur of heartache. She replayed every memory, the happy ones now twisted with hurt. Questions gnawed at her: *Why did he leave? He said he loved me. What changed?* Shed adored himher protector, her hero. His voice, his smile, his hugs had been her anchors. Theyd walked in the park, played games, read bedtime stories.
But the worst blow came later. One evening, when Emily was ten, her dad appeared unexpectedly at the door, weary and hesitant.
You should know the truth, he murmured. Im not your real father.
The words hit like a thunderclap. The room dimmed, sounds muffled. Her chest ached as if stabbed. For the first time, she felt truly betrayed.
Years passed, but the wound never fully healed. She threw herself into school, friends, sportsanything to distract herself. Yet holidays were agony, listening to friends chatter about family outings. Each mention was a fresh sting.
Her dad remarried a woman with a daughter, Lucy, around Emilys age. Their new life seemed perfect: a spacious house in Surrey, designer clothes, lavish giftseverything Emily had once dreamed of.
One moment stood out. Her dad invited her to Lucys birthday party. Emily hesitated outside their door, heart racing. *Should I even be here?* Steeling herself, she rang the bell.
A tall woman answered. Come in, she said briskly.
The flat smelled of fresh cake and laughter. Kids darted about, music playedand there was Lucy, in a pale blue dress, eyes locking onto Emilys.
Hi, Im Lucy, she said politely.
Emily flushed. I know, she mumbled.
An awkward silence followed, both girls sizing each other up.
Did you bring a present? Lucy asked matter-of-factly.
Emily fumbled for the coloured pencils shed bought, suddenly ashamed of their simplicity. Lucy unwrapped them with barely a glance, setting them aside. Thanks, she said flatly.
Heat rushed to Emilys face. The giftmeant kindlyfelt dismissed. She turned away, swallowing her hurt.
The party dragged on. She watched her dad laugh with Lucy, holding her hand, sharing jokes*her* old jokes. The sight twisted inside her. *This is why he chose her.*
Leaving, Lucy gave a half-hearted wave, already moving on. Her dad caught Emily at the door. Maybe we could meet alone sometime? he offered awkwardly.
She shook her head. Back home, she criedhating herself for it, but the pain was too much. That party ended any hope of reconciliation. Her dad belonged to Lucy now.
Years later, Emily has her own familya husband, children. Her mum found someone new who cherishes them all. Only her dad is absent, still devoted to Lucy, buying her a flat, doting on her children.
Emily doesnt feel anger anymore, just bewilderment. *How could he walk away so easily from a child he once loved?*
