**Diary Entry – 12th of May**
Emily and Thomas divorced when their daughter Charlotte turned two. Thomas simply couldnt bear living with his wife anymoreshe was always discontent, always furious. One day shed snap that he didnt earn enough, the next that he was never home and never lifted a finger to help with the child.
Tom did try to please her. But nothing worked. Plenty of mates said Emily had postpartum depression, that she ought to see a doctor, maybe take something for it.
But Tom wasnt convinced. Shed never been easy even before the baby, and now it was like shed lost the plot entirely.
He couldnt even remember the last time he saw her smile. Even with little Charlotte, her face was twisted in irritation, making him want to scoop the girl up and hide her somewhere safe.
Still, he suggested therapy once. The reaction was explosive.
*What, you think Im mad? Think Im some hysterical mess, do you? I wouldnt be like this if you werent such a useless lump!*
That was the last straw. He told her he wanted a divorce. And Emily, out of spite, took Charlotte and vanished to another town. No child support requests, no forwarding address.
Tom searched for a while, then gave up. He loved Charlottewouldve stayed her dad in a heartbeat. But the thought of facing Emily again, of the venom shed spew, made him accept it.
Meanwhile, Emily stewed in rage. She was convinced hed left her for another woman, that none of it was her fault.
That bitterness seeped into Charlottes life.
She never hit her, never outright abused her. But the girl grew up drowning in a kind of misery most people couldnt fathom.
There were no birthdays, no holidays. Charlotte only learned people celebrated after starting nursery.
*Mum, guess what? Oliver had a birthday today, and everyone gave him presents! Will I get one too?*
*No. Thats rubbish. You didnt do anything to deserve itI did all the work. Stop asking stupid questions.*
They didnt do Christmas either. Thankfully, Father Christmas visited the nursery, so Charlotte got one shred of joy. On Christmas Day itself, they ate plain toast and went to bed early.
Emily despised laughterlikely because shed forgotten how. If Charlotte giggled at cartoons, shed snap:
*Stop cackling like a goose! Nothings funny!*
So Charlotte learned: smiles were bad. Laughter was bad. Be serious. Be sad.
Whether Emily had some undiagnosed condition, no one knew. She refused therapy, called it a waste. People werent meant to be happy, she reckoned. Those who were? Simpletons.
Charlotte first tasted sweets at nursery, when another child shared theirs. It was heavenly.
That night, she dreamed of growing up, of buying herself a whole bag of them. The thought made her smilethen she remembered she wasnt allowed.
Who knows how shed have turned out if shed stayed with Emily? The woman only grew more venomous with time. Neighbours crossed the street to avoid her. Old ladies muttered about evil spirits.
But all that anger took its toll. Emily got cancer. Distrusted doctors, so by the time an ambulance took her in, it was too late.
A neighbour took Charlotte in. Before the hospital, Emily gave her Thomass name and town. Some scrap of care, at least.
She never came back. They didnt tell Charlotte right away. The girl was already too scared to ask.
Social services tracked Tom down. By then, hed been married six months. When they called, he told his wife, Sarah, he wouldnt abandon his daughter. Hed looked for her, after all.
Sarah, bless her, understood. *Go get her,* she said.
Charlotte didnt remember him. She was terrified, braced for worse than Emily.
Tom bought a giant stuffed rabbit and a bag of chocolates. When he walked in, Charlotte shrank backuntil she saw the sweets.
That won her over. Father Christmas gave sweets. Only good people did that.
While she examined the toy, the neighbour filled him in.
*Not to speak ill, but she was a right nightmare. Never a kind word. Poor girl was walking on eggshells.*
Toms chest ached. He shouldve fought harder. His fear of Emily had cost Charlotte everything.
Once the paperwork and funeral were done, they drove home.
*Your birthdays coming,* he said, forcing cheer. *What dyou want?*
Charlotte blinked. *We never did birthdays. Mum said it was stupid.*
Tom froze. *Thats not true. Everyone deserves a birthday.*
*Can I have sweets, then?* she whispered.
He just nodded. Words failed him.
Later, after Sarah tucked Charlotte in, Tom poured a whisky.
*She didnt celebrate birthdays,* he croaked when Sarah joined him. *She asked for sweets. Just sweets.*
Sarah hugged him. *Dont blame Emily. Life punished her enough.*
*I blame myself. I told myself they were fine.*
Sarah smiled. *Then well throw her the best birthday. For all the ones she missed.*
The week before the party, Charlotte adjusted. What stunned her most was how much Tom and Sarah laughed. Shed thought adults forgot how.
Breakfast wasnt just porridgeSarah made pancakes, fruit, yoghurt. And sweets! All she wanted (within reason).
On her birthday, Charlotte woke to balloons. A cake with candles. Then a trip to the theme park. Seven giftsone for each year.
Kids adapt fast, especially to kindness. Within weeks, Charlotte laughed freely, hugged without fear. Emily had hated touch.
School came. Life brightened. Some memories blurredwas that real, or a dream? But she knew she was lucky. Felt sorry for Emily, but knew this was better.
A year later, she called Sarah Mum for the first time. Because, harsh as it was, Sarah loved her the way Emily never could.
**Lesson learned: Fear costs more than courage. I waited too long. But now? Ill make sure she never doubts shes loved.**
