**Diary Entry**
It all began the moment little Emily first heard the word divorce. She didnt quite understand what it meant back then, but her gut told her it was something bad. Her family had always been just the three of themEmily, her mum, and her dad. Their little world had felt unbreakable, full of warmth and laughter.
Life had been simple and steady. Every morning began the same way: Emily waking to her mums soft voice calling her for breakfast, while her dad brewed coffee and skimmed the newspaper. Evenings were spent curled up together, watching films or playing board games. Those nights were the brightest memories of her childhood.
Then, one evening, everything changed. Her mum sat at the kitchen table, twisting a napkin between her fingers. When her dad walked in, his face was grim. An invisible wall had gone up between them, tension thickening the air.
We need to talk, he said, his voice heavy.
Emily huddled in the corner, her heart pounding. One look at her parents stiff expressions told her something was wrong. Her mum gave a silent nod, and the argument beganhours of raised voices, sobs, and words Emily wished she could unhear. The worst was her mums cry, raw with pain.
By morning, her dad was gone, suitcase in hand. Emily watched from the window as he walked away, tears burning her eyes. Her small, safe world had shattered.
The days that followed were a blur of grief. She replayed every memory, every moment shed thought was happy, now twisted with hurt. Why had he left? Hed always said he loved her. What had changed?
Her childhood had been full of loveher dad reading bedtime stories, playing with her in the park, his laughter filling the house. Hed been her hero. Then, when she was ten, he returned one evening, looking exhausted.
You should know the truth, he said quietly. Im not your real father.
The words hit like a bomb. The room spun, colours draining, sounds muffled. A sharp pain stabbed her chestbetrayal, fresh and deep.
Time passed, but the wound never fully healed. Emily threw herself into school, friends, sports, but holidays were agonylistening to friends chatter about family outings while her own felt broken. Worse still, her dad remarried a woman with a daughter, Charlotte, around her age. Their new life seemed perfecta big house, expensive gifts, everything Emily had once dreamed of.
One moment stuck with her. Her dad invited her to Charlottes birthday party. Standing outside their house, Emily hesitated. Was she really welcome here? The door opened.
Come in, a tall woman said briskly.
Inside, the air smelled of cake and celebration. Kids ran around, music played, laughter rang out. And there was Charlotte, in a pretty blue dress, eyeing her curiously.
Hi, Im Charlotte, she said politely.
Emily flushed. I know.
An awkward pause. Then: Did you bring a present?
Emily handed over a hastily bought set of pencils. Charlotte unwrapped them, barely glancing before setting them aside. Thanks, she said flatly.
Humiliation burned Emilys cheeks. The party dragged on, each moment twisting the knifeher dad laughing with Charlotte, holding her hand, telling the same silly jokes hed once told her.
When it ended, her dad caught her at the door. Sorry about today, he mumbled. Maybe we can meet up alone sometime?
Emily shook her head. At home, she cried, hating herself for it. That party killed any hope of fixing things. He belonged to them now.
Years later, Emily has her own familya husband, children. Her mum found someone new who loves them all. But her dad remains absent, devoted to Charlotte, buying her flat, doting on her children.
Emily doesnt feel anger anymore, just bewilderment. How could someone walk away so easily from a child they once adored?
