**Diary Entry – 12th October**
Bloody hell, why must you insist on seeing that scoundrel, Emily? He’ll bring you nothing but trouble, mark my words! You’ll be left weeping over him for years, waiting like some army wife while he’s bound to land himself in prison one day!
“But Mum, you’re wrong! Liam’s not like that—he’s kind, he cares for me, and he loves me!”
“Oh, love! That sort only loves when it suits them. Forget him. Why not give Henry a chance? Now there’s a proper husband—steady as a rock. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”
Emily glared, hurt. Her mother didn’t understand. Didn’t even want to.
“Mum, I don’t fancy Henry. He’s just… too…”
“Too what? Not rugged enough for you? Well, he adores you! Give him a chance! Chuck that Liam good-for-nothing out already!”
“No, Mum. I’m marrying Liam. That’s final.”
“Robert, for heaven’s sake, talk some sense into her!” Margaret turned to her husband. “Why are you just sitting there?”
Robert sighed, pushing himself off the sofa. He wasn’t Liam’s biggest fan, but interfering in his daughter’s life wasn’t his way. She was grown—old enough to make her own choices. After all, it was her life, not theirs.
“Ladies, what’s all this fuss? Margaret, let her date who she likes. Em, just be careful. And if anything goes wrong, you come to me. Understood?”
Margaret threw her hands up in despair, while Emily beamed and hugged her father.
“Thanks, Dad! We’re only dating for now, anyway. Liam hasn’t even proposed yet.”
“Good. Let’s hope he never does,” Margaret muttered.
Emily kept quiet—no need to set her off again.
At twenty, she was sure she knew best. Mum just didn’t get it. Liam had been her world for years, madly in love since school. Meanwhile, Mum kept singing praises about Henry, her uni mate—decent chap, but dreary as soggy toast.
With her father’s blessing, Emily stopped hiding her relationship. Liam, rough-around-the-edges though he was, adored her—enough to change.
“Liam, when we marry, we’ll rent a flat, yeah? You’ll manage the rent?”
“Course I will. Worst case, Mum and Dad will chip in. They’re chuffed we’re together—reckon you’re a good influence.” He grinned.
“Really?” Emily flushed, pleased.
This was during her final uni year. Liam, already working, saved up for their wedding. Margaret, stubborn as ever, refused to help financially. Robert, though secretly slipping Emily money, didn’t argue.
“Find yourself a proper man, then we’ll pay,” Margaret scoffed. “But throw yourself away on that layabout? That’s on you.”
Emily cried, but what could she do? They scraped by—thankfully, Liam’s parents were more welcoming.
“Wish Mum didn’t hate you so much. At least Dad’s on my side.”
Liam pulled her close.
“Don’t fret, love. She’s just protective. I’ll win her over. Been hated before—doesn’t bother me.”
“Oh? By who?” Emily nudged him playfully.
He kissed her. “No one mattered. Just you.”
True enough. He’d fancied her since primary school, ever since her family moved to the neighbourhood. They’d bickered at first—till she stood her ground. Then came friendship, then love.
Even so, Liam had his share of scrapes—fighting, getting in trouble. He regretted some, shrugged off most. But now? He’d straightened up, finished college, worked as a mechanic. Earned decent wages.
They married without Margaret’s help. Liam, well-respected at the garage, left his wild youth behind. Emily was happy—though her mother still sneered.
“Liam, let’s visit my parents tomorrow?” Emily hugged him, her rounded belly pressed against him.
He stroked her stomach. “Love, no stress now. Once little Jack’s born, we’ll show him off. Mum and Dad wanted to pop over soon, yeah?”
“Alright. Ask your mum to bake her lemon drizzle, will you?”
Liam chuckled. “She’d love to. Dotes on you.”
“Your mum’s lovely,” Emily murmured, rubbing her belly. “Says she wants Jack strong and healthy—keeps feeding me up.”
“Let her spoil you,” Liam laughed.
Money was tight sometimes; debts piled up. Emily, fresh from uni, hadn’t started work yet—Liam carried them. But he never complained.
Time flew. Jack arrived, healthy and loud. Eager to show him off, they visited Emily’s parents the first chance they got.
Margaret had cooked a feast; Robert tidied eagerly. He doted on Jack already, unlike his wife.
“Hi, Mum!” Emily breezed in, Liam carrying Jack.
“Darling! Carrying that heavy bag alone? Useless husband you’ve got,” Margaret snipped.
“Mum! The bag’s light, and he’s holding Jack. Stop it.”
Liam squeezed her arm—they’d agreed not to rise to it.
“Give him here,” Robert said, scooping up Jack.
“Wow. Since when do you handle babies?” Margaret gaped. “You were terrified with Emily!”
Robert shot her a look. “Told you I’ve been visiting.”
Margaret flushed. “Alright, alright—come eat! Made your favourite, love.”
Liam smiled politely. “Smells brilliant.”
She ignored him.
Over dinner, Robert and Liam chatted work; Emily and Margaret discussed Jack. Then Liam chimed in:
“We’ll put Jack in footie or boxing when he’s older.”
“What, turn him into a thug like you?” Margaret snapped.
“Mum!”
Liam held up a hand. “Alright. So I’m a bad husband, then? Or father? Can’t provide? Don’t love my wife?” He eyed her coolly. “I’ve changed. Yeah, I was rough once—but that’s done. What’s your problem now?”
Silence.
Margaret clenched her jaw. “People don’t change, Liam. Habits return. You’ll break her heart.”
“Mum, I’m happy—”
“Margaret,” Robert cut in, “how many windows did I smash as a lad? Police knew me by name.”
“That’s different! You changed!”
Liam burst out laughing. Margaret fumed—till Jack’s wails cut the tension.
…Liam knew she’d never fully accept him. But maybe, for Emily and Jack’s sake, she’d soften. He didn’t need her approval—but seeing Emily upset gutted him. Still, time heals. Slowly.
**Lesson:** Love’s not about proving yourself—but standing firm when others doubt you. And sometimes, patience wears the hardest hearts down.
