**Diary Entry**
Today felt heavy. My husband, Michael, and I returned from the funeral of his mother, Anne. She was laid to rest beside his father, just as she had wished.
«Shes at peace now,» Michael murmured, weary. «She spoke of nothing else these last weeks.»
I nodded. «She knew wed bury her here, yet it was all she could think about.»
The evening passed in quiet sorrow, each of us lost in memories. Mine drifted to my own pastbefore marriage, before happiness. A childhood of loss. My parents died young, trapped in my grandmothers house when it caught fire after Grandads funeral. Id stayed home with my older brother, Nick, only to wake to unbearable news. The villagers whispered that Grandad had taken them all with him.
Nick was seventeen, I was thirteen. We clung to each other in that empty house. He worked the farm; I studied. Our village was smalljust forty-two homeswith a tiny school that only went up to Year Four. After that, we walked three miles to the next village. In winter, wed cross the frozen river to cut the distance. Old Ned used to take us by horse-cart on Mondays, and wed board there until Saturday. But the older boysled by Jack, the village chairmans sonoften sneaked back on foot.
Back then, village life was simple. Evenings meant dances at the hall, stolen glances, notes passed under desks. By Monday, everyone knew who fancied whom.
I was no exception. By sixteen, the boys watched mesome shyly, some boldly. They called me an angel, though I kept my distance. Pretty, yes, but an orphan with nothing to offer. I lived with Nick, his wife, Sarah, and their son. Sarah resented me. No matter how hard I scrubbed floors or minded the baby, I was in the way.
«Ill leave after school,» I vowed. «Train to be a cook in the city. Sarah wont miss me.»
But then Jack happened. Handsome, broad-shouldered, the chairmans golden boy. We fell hard. Even the old gossips softened. «A match made in heaven,» theyd say, watching us walk home hand in hand.
His parents despised me.
«Think shes good enough for our Jack?» his father, Henry, sneered to his wife, Margaret. «A penniless orphan? Ive got the foresters daughter in minda proper family.»
Margaret fretted. «He wont listen. Hes besotted.»
Henry smirked. «Oh, hell listen.»
He tried reasoning first. «Forget her, son. Shes beneath you.»
Jack just laughed. «Im marrying her.»
So Henry turned to Sarah. «Send her away. Your aunt in Scotlandwhats her name? Clara? Pack her off. Ill pay you handsomely.»
Sarah hesitated. «But theyre in love»
«Money talks,» Henry said.
And so, one morning, Nick dragged me to the train station, thrust a ticket and address into my hand, and sent me north.
Jack was shattered. He barely spoke to his parents, even when he left for military service. Two years passed. Then came the letter: «Found a lass. Bringing her home.»
His parents rejoiced. «See? Hes moved on!»
The village buzzed. When the taxi pulled up, everyone crowded around. Out stepped Jacktaller, broaderand a woman in white.
Gasps. It was me.
«Meet my wife,» Jack announced, grinning.
The crowd erupted. Even Henry and Margaret could only gape before forcing smiles.
We married properly, moved into a cottage, raised two sons. His parents softenedMargaret even grew to adore me. Time mends most wounds.
Henry died first. Margaret followed, heartbroken. I nursed her till the end. Now, the house is silent. Michael and I sit, drained.
But life goes on. If two souls are meant to be together, no force on earth can keep them apart.
