**Diary Entry – A Longing for Family**
It’s not just women who struggle to find happiness in love—men do too. I’m one of them. Edward’s no different. At thirty-eight, he’s still searching for something lasting, despite two failed relationships. One was a proper marriage, the other more of a common-law arrangement. Neither worked out. He keeps asking himself, *What’s wrong with me? Why does happiness slip through my fingers? Am I looking in the wrong places, or just meeting the wrong women?*
Edward’s kindness is his nature. He can’t help but shield others from hardship. Even his mates tease him: *Ed, you ought to be a fairy godfather. There’s not enough kindness in the world for everyone, you know.* But that’s just who he is. He lives with his parents in a village, in a big house with plenty of land. There’s nothing he can’t fix—welding, carpentry, tinkering with cars, even rewiring a washing machine. He’s always in demand. Between shifts on the rigs, where he earns decent money, and helping villagers with odd jobs, he barely catches his breath.
*”Son, why must you be so obliging?”* his mother scolds. *”You come home to rest, not work yourself ragged again.”*
*”Mum, people need help,”* he shrugs.
*”They take advantage, Ed. They won’t pay anyone else when you do it for free.”*
*”It’s fine. Won’t kill me.”*
At twenty-two, he married Emily. She was two years younger—pretty, lively. His mother disapproved. *”A wife should be steady, not flighty like that Emily. You barely knew her a month before rushing to the registry!”*
*”Mum, nothing I do pleases you. What’s wrong with Emily? I need someone lively—I’m not exactly quick on my feet myself.”*
*”Fine. But don’t come crying later. You could’ve courted Hannah next door—quiet, dependable. Never a word against her.”*
They lived in his parents’ house, though Edward had his own entrance. While he was away working, Emily’s nights were anything but quiet. She’d wait until his parents’ lights went out, slip through the garden gate—never the front, where his mother might see—and head to the pub. Sometimes, local lads, or even ones from the next village, walked her home.
One night, his mother fell ill. His father went to fetch Emily—Edward was away—only to find her gone. Panicked, he fetched Hannah’s mother, who brought medicine. The next morning, Emily acted as if nothing happened.
*”Where were you last night?”* his father demanded.
*”Asleep,”* she lied.
*”Don’t lie. I came at one—you weren’t here.”*
*”What were *you* doing in my room at that hour?”* she shot back.
*”Your mother-in-law was ill! Had to fetch help from next door!”*
*”I was at *my* mother’s till three,”* she lied smoothly.
Edward’s parents said nothing, but once, he returned early from a shift. A village mate, Michael, walked him home in the dark. When Edward tapped their bedroom window—his usual signal—Emily took ages to answer. Then he heard a scuffle, saw a man climbing out the kitchen window.
*”Who was that?”* Edward demanded.
*”No one. What’s it to you?”*
*”So this is the sort of wife you are,”* he said coldly.
Emily left the next day. Later, she claimed she was pregnant—his child. He’s paid child support for nine years, bought clothes, shoes, whatever his son, Oliver, needs. His mother grumbles: *”Ed, he might not even be yours. Doesn’t look a thing like you.”*
*”Emily says he is. That’s enough.”*
After Emily, he met Grace, a single mother from the next village. They never married, but she moved in, got on well with his parents. *”Grace is a hard worker,”* his mother admitted. *”Feeds the livestock, even milks the cow.”*
Then, one day, Grace left, claiming her mother was ill. Edward offered to help, but she refused. He sent money, visited when he could. A year later, a friend asked, *”Did you kick Grace out?”*
*”No, her mother’s sick—she’s caring for her.”*
*”Her mother’s fit as a fiddle. Grace has taken up with an old flame. She’s playing you for a fool.”*
Edward didn’t believe it—until he showed up unannounced and found another man in her house.
*”You’re too trusting,”* his mother sighed. *”These days, you’ve got to be careful.”*
Finally, she persuaded him to court Hannah, their quiet neighbour. Not a beauty, but steady. She’d loved him since school, never let on. Now married, Edward grumbles, *”We could’ve had years together, Hannah!”*
She just smiles. *”We’ve time yet, Ed. I’m only thirty-two.”*
His mother and Hannah’s get on like a house on fire. For once, everyone’s happy.
