**Diary Entry**
Best friends since childhood, Emily and Charlotte grew up in the same village, inseparable as two peas in a pod. Both were lovely—Emily soft-spoken and gentle, Charlotte fiery and bold.
In secondary school, everyone knew Samuel fancied Emily, though she never took him seriously. Still, it flattered her—the way he followed her around, picking wildflowers, asking her out daily, even confessing his love. But Emily only smiled at the shy, kind-hearted lad. Perhaps things might’ve worked out, had it not been for the arrogant William, who fancied himself a ladies’ man.
Dark-haired and sharp-eyed, William strutted through school corridors, turning every girl’s head. Both friends fell for him, joking at first:
“Imagine, Em—some lucky girl’ll end up married to that handsome devil!” Charlotte laughed.
William, sensing their rivalry, played them like a fiddle—a week with one, then the other. Soon, the girls bickered over him, fueling his ego. He loved winding them up, though he wasn’t cruel.
One day, their friendship shattered over him. Not long after, Emily met William alone.
“Will… I’m expecting. What do we do?”
“Really?” He scratched his head. “Well, what’s there to think? We’ll marry. A child needs a father. Suppose you’ll have me?”
Fate had decided for them. A week later, at prom, the girls made up—or so Emily thought. Charlotte wished her well, but bitterness festered beneath.
The wedding was lively, the village celebrating. They settled into married life—a son, Thomas, a cosy cottage left by Emily’s gran. William proved handy, fixing it up, though he worked as a tractor driver.
Times grew hard. The farm struggled; Emily lost her bookkeeping job. William was furloughed.
“Tom’s outgrown everything,” Emily fretted. “He starts school soon—his shoes are falling apart. And winter’s coming…”
William agreed. Their boy wore through clothes fast.
Then, a chance: the tax office needed a secretary. Emily hurried to town, nerves fluttering as she waited.
“Hello,” she murmured.
“Good afternoon. Sit.” A sharp voice. A woman in glasses, lips painted red, eyes fixed on her screen—then lifting her gaze.
Emily gasped. “Charlotte? What a surprise!”
“Emily.” Charlotte’s tone cooled. “Here for the job, then?”
“Yes!”
“How’ll you commute daily?”
“By bus. They run often. But—how’ve you been?”
“Finished uni, became an accountant. Now I manage here.”
“You’ve done well!” Emily smiled.
Charlotte leaned back. “Afraid it won’t work. We need someone local—late hours, weekends. Another candidate’s lined up.”
Silence. Emily stood, dismissed.
“Could’ve said sooner. Any other leads?”
“None. Good luck.”
*She still resents me.*
“Charlotte? That snob?” William scowled when Emily returned.
“Let it go,” she urged.
But next morning, he stormed off. Returned quiet that evening.
“Well?”
“Job’s taken. Qualified bloke, lives nearby. Can’t blame her.”
Odd, but Emily let it lie. Days later, she got a post office job—relief at last.
Yet William’s absences nagged her. “Helping at the farm,” he claimed.
Then, crossing paths with Samuel, the truth spilled.
“Your Will’s not been near the tractors. Not ill, is he?”
Emily’s heart lurched. That night, she confronted William.
“Liar. Where’ve you been?”
He slumped. “Seeing Charlotte. Still love her.”
“Pack your things.”
Gone. All those years—ash.
Months passed. Samuel found her one day.
“Your fence is knackered. Mind if I fix it?”
*He never stopped loving me.*
“Go on, then.”
He came Saturday, repairing as she hung laundry.
“You’re lovelier each year.”
“Think I’ll leap into your arms now?” she snapped, then regretted it.
Samuel left, gentle as ever. She hated herself.
Two months later, they met by the river.
“Smiling at me now?” he teased. “Can I hold your hand?”
She laughed. They embraced.
Walking home, Emily mused—she’d have chosen Samuel years ago, had she not been blind.
Later, she heard William had slunk back to his parents—Charlotte hadn’t wanted him.
But Emily was happy now, expecting again with Samuel.
Fate finds its way, no matter the detours.
