**Diary Entry A Lifes Lesson**
Rain tapped against the windowpane, its drops sliding down like silent tears. Charlotte sat by the glass, listening to Vera Lynns *”Well Meet Again,”* though the words felt like salt on an old wound. She barely noticed the tears streaking her cheekssome songs just cut too deep.
Theres a particular bitterness in being wronged, a dull ache that lingers when you cant change a thing. Sometimes, you search for comfort anywhereeven in the lyrics of a song.
Charlotte had lived in a quiet market town in Yorkshire all her adult life. Shed arrived years ago from a Devon village to study nursing and never left.
*”Stay in the city after you qualify, love,”* her mother had said. *”Not because we dont want youbut theres nothing for you here. The young all leave. Find yourself a local lad, settle down.”*
*”I know, Mum,”* Charlotte had replied. *”Its hard leaving you, but its time to stand on my own feet.”*
So she stayed, working as a nurse at the local hospital. She was prettythick chestnut hair, blue eyes, a softness to her lips. One morning, as she entered the mens ward with an IV drip, she spotted a young man with his arm in a cast, watching her with open curiosity.
*”Morning,”* she greeted the room, but James swore shed spoken only to him.
Hed been admitted the night beforeanother nurse had been on shiftbut now here she was. James worked at the towns only factory, fresh out of university and sent there as a junior engineer. A slip on the factory floor, an awkward flail, and hed landed hard on concrete. Hence the broken arm.
Charlotte set up his drip silently, deft with her hands. He studied her, already certain he wanted to know her better. She glanced back when she thought he wasnt looking.
*”There, all done. Just rest now,”* she said.
*”Will you come back?”* he blurted. *”Andwhats your name?”*
*”Of course, its my job. Im Charlotte,”* she replied, then left.
*Charlotte,* he thought. *Well, maybe this cast isnt so bad after all.* He wondered if she had a sweetheart.
Charlotte liked him too, though shed never admit it first. Still, the way hed watched herwell, it was obvious.
*”Handsome lads like him dont stay single long,”* she told herself.
She kept an eye on his visitors. Friends, colleaguesbut no girls. That eased her mind. Meanwhile, James dreamed of strolls together once he was discharged.
Hed linger in the corridor just to chat, and some evenings, theyd sit and talk.
*”Im not from here,”* he said. *”Sent to the factory after uni. Lived in digs at first, but the firm gave me a flat. Needs work, but its mine.”*
*”Lucky you,”* Charlotte sighed. *”Im still in nurses quarters. Some nights its rowdier than a pub.”*
James was discharged soon enough, though he returned for check-ups. They kept meeting, but he took his timetwo years, in factbefore proposing.
*”Weve been together a while,”* he said one evening. *”Lets get married.”*
*”Yes,”* she answered at once, laughing. He realized shed been waiting.
The wedding was smalljust her mother from Devon and Jamess sisters from Nottingham. Her friends envied her: *”Youve landed a proper catchclever, kind, and easy on the eyes!”*
They lived in his two-bed flat, doing it up bit by bit. Two daughters came along.
*”Id like a son,”* James said once, but Charlotte refused. *”Twos enough. They need raising properly.”*
Life was good. James earned decently; they took seaside holidays, visited her mother in Devonmushroom-picking, river swims, even winter sledging. For years, nothing hinted at what was coming.
Jamess job was demanding. Hed be called in on weekends, grumbling but going. Then one night, he snapped:
*”Im quitting. Sick of never resting properly.”*
His boss fought to keep himJames was brilliantbut he moved firms. The catch? Frequent business trips.
*”Charlotte, its good money. Ill be away sometimes.”*
*”Well manage. Its not months, is it?”*
Years passed. James was often gonethree days, sometimes a week. Then Charlotte noticed changes: he drank more, came home late, grew sharp.
Fifteen years in, with their girls nearly grown, she confronted him.
*”James, whats happened? You never used to be like this.”*
*”Leave off. Lifes dullIm just having a bit of fun.”*
In a small town, gossip travels fast.
*”Charlotte,”* her colleague Emily said one day, *”surely youve noticed? My friend Lucys been seeing him. He stops by hers after trips before coming home.”*
*”Youre joking,”* Charlotte whispered. *”I thought he was just out with mates.”*
More whispers followed. They fought. He shouted: *”Im sick of your nagging! Ill live as I please!”*
The final straw was when he raised a hand to her.
*”I want a divorce,”* she said, fresh out of tears.
She found him packing while Vera Lynns voice floated from the telly: *”Well meet again”* The words stabbed. He slung a bag over his shoulder.
*”Im leaving. The flats yours and the girls. I know its hard, but”* The door clicked shut behind him.
She thought shed cried all she could, but fresh sobs came. Time passed.
*”Ill file for divorce,”* she decided. *”What am I now? Not a wife, not a widow.”*
Some pitied her; others feigned sympathy while relishing the drama. But Charlotte endured. Years later, her daughters grownthe eldest married and moved to Manchesterthe younger one vowed:
*”Mum, Ill never leave you alone.”*
*”Well see, love. Lifes funny. You might meet someone.”*
She did.
*”Mum, you called it!”* her daughter laughed. *”Toms proposed! But were moving to London. He says theres more opportunities.”*
Charlotte forced a smile. *”Go, darling. Just visit often. He seems a good man.”*
At the wedding, Jamesstill in touch with their younger girlpulled Tom aside. Charlotte overheard:
*”Listen, lad. Stick with one family. However rough it gets, ride it out. Learn from my mistakes.”*
She paused. *So hes tasted regret too.*
Years on, Charlotte had moved past the pain. Some friends were true; others just liked the spectacle. Now retired, shed see James around townan old man, like her. What once felt like tragedy had faded to indifference, even the occasional smile.
But that song*”Well meet again”*still brought tears. Not grief anymore, just nostalgia.
**Lesson learned:** A second family is no escape. Some roads, once taken, leave scars no distance heals.
