**Diary Entry 12th March**
Mum, you wont believe itDads new wife is ill, and they say its serious.
Let me tell you something that happened ten years ago. My husband and I raised two daughters, both off at university now. I was looking forward to this chapter, imagining wed start a new life together. But he had other plans. He betrayed me with his secretary.
Im sorry, I never meant to hurt you, he said, but I love her.
That evening, he packed his things and left for a woman half his age. The girls were furious and cut ties with him. It was agony, especially when the younger one tried to mend things between us. Id erase that year if I couldtime didnt heal the wounds, just taught me to live with them. I threw myself into my hobbies, growing rare plants and selling them. It kept the darkness at bay.
Eventually, the girls reconciled with their father and occasionally mentioned his new life. He was happy with her. Then she gave him a son.
Mum, imagineshes sick. They say its bad.
Girls, stop talking about them. I dont like it, Id say. Foolishly, I still loved him, and the thought of him with another woman twisted inside me. Years had passed, yet in my heart, he was still my husband.
One Saturday morning, I woke to a figure looming over me. Half-asleep, I thought it a dreamuntil I heard his shaky voice. Im sorry for the hour. But I I dont know what to do with the boy. Hed aged, his hair streaked with grey. Behind him stood a little ladtheir son.
My wife passed last night, he said. Theres the funeral to arrange, the girls are working I cant take him. Hes too young.
The boy was barely school-aged. Dazed, I stared at him. Then he piped up:
Are you my auntie?
No, I snapped, ready to shut the door.
Mum said we had no one.
I didnt even know your mother.
But he was sweet-faced, innocent. Blaming him made no sense. So I relented.
Do you like porridge? Come to the kitchen. Breakfast first, then your dad collects you.
I made coffee for myself, porridge for him. Watching him eat, I saw traces of my daughters in his features. We spent the morning with cartoons and old storybooks from the girls childhood. He was bright, gentle.
After that, my ex started bringing him round regularly. We grew close. With my daughters not yet settled, he became the grandchild I never had.
Two years since his wifes death, and now my ex has asked if we might live together. Part of me wants toI can picture us, a proper family again. But the bitterness lingers. Can I trust him?
If we fail, its the boy who suffers. So here I am, torn. I love them both, yet the fear of being fooled again wont let go.
**Lesson:** The hearts a stubborn thingit remembers the joy and the ache in equal measure. But sometimes, love means choosing the harder path, even when youre not sure where it leads.
