**Diary Entry 12th March**
Im 52 now. And I have nothing. No wife, no family, no children, no job nothing at all.
My name is William Carter. My wife and I were married for 30 years. I was always the one who provided for the family, while my wife, Margaret, took care of the home. I never wanted her to work. I liked knowing she was there, waiting. But over time, it began to grate on me.
We lived together respectfully, but the love faded. I thought that was normaljust how things went. Then everything changed. One night, at a pub, I met Charlotte. She was 20 years youngerbeautiful, kind, and full of laughter. Like a dream come true.
We started seeing each other, and she soon became my mistress. After two months, I realised I didnt want to lie to Margaret anymore. I dreaded going home. I was in love with Charlotte, and I wanted her as my wife.
A few days later, I told Margaret the truth. She didnt make a scene. She stayed calm. At the time, I thought she didnt love me eitherthats why she took it so well. But now I see how much I hurt her.
We divorced. We sold the flat where wed spent so many years together. Charlotte insisted I shouldnt leave it to my ex-wife, and I listened. Margaret bought a small studio. I used my savings to buy a two-bedroom flat for Charlotte.
I didnt help Margaretnot a single pound. I knew she had no money, and finding work wouldnt be easy. But back then, I didnt care. Our sons, James and Oliver, refused to speak to me. They felt Id betrayed their mother, and they couldnt forgive me.
I didnt care much then. Charlotte was pregnant, and we were eagerly waiting for the baby. Soon, a son was born. But he didnt look like meor Charlotte. My mates doubted he was mine. I wouldnt listen.
Life with Charlotte was chaos. I worked long hours, looked after the house, and cared for the boy. Charlotte only ever asked for money, always out late. The flat was a mess, no meals waiting. Shed stagger in at 3 or 4 AM, reeking of drink, picking fights over nothing.
Then I lost my job. I was exhausted, angrymy work suffered. Three years passed like this. Then my brother, who never approved of Charlotte and doubted the boy was mine, convinced me to get a DNA test. He wasnt my son.
We divorced as soon as the truth came out. By then, I hadnt spoken to Margaret or my sons in years. After the divorce, I decided to go back to Margaret. I bought flowers, wine, a cakeknocked on her door. But she didnt live there anymore. The new owner gave me her address.
I went. A man answered. Turns out Margaret had found a good job and married a colleague. She was happy. Settled.
Later, I saw her at a café. I begged her to take me back. She looked at me like I was a foolthen walked away. Now I understand the mistake I made. What did I want? What did I gain? Why did I leave my wife for some young girl?
Im 52 now. And I have nothing. No wife, no jobeven my sons wont speak to me. I lost everything that mattered. And it was all my fault. Worse still, theres no fixing it.
**Lesson learned too late: Greed blinds you to what you already have. I sit in this empty flat, the silence pressing in, and stare at the photo of Margaret and me on our wedding dayher smile so full of trust, my face so sure of everything. Now theres only this hollow echo where a life should be. The phone never rings. The door never opens. And no amount of regret can turn back time.
