**Diary Entry – 18th June**
Even if someone found you needed.
“You don’t need my son, he’ll ruin your life.”
“That’s not true, Sophia Anne. Why do you say such things about Stephen? He’s your only child!”
“That’s exactly why I’m warning you. I know my son too well to doubt my words.”
Sophia Anne sighed and left the kitchen, leaving Emily sitting at the table in her new evening dress. She’d worn it specially, visiting her neighbour to show off the purchase she hoped would sweep Stephen off his feet.
Emily had loved her neighbour’s son for years, ever since she was a little girl. Back then, she was too young to understand her feelings, but they ran deep.
Stephen was seven years older. He was seventeen when they first met, and Emily just ten. Her family had moved to Littleford from the next village after her father lost his job, while Sophia Anne had raised Stephen alone in that small house for years.
“A very respectable family,” her mother had said that evening, after visiting Sophia Anne. Though the woman was fifteen years older, they struck up a friendship, and Emily saw Stephen often.
A year later, he left for university, while Emily stayed behind—never forgetting him, always visiting Sophia Anne.
When Stephen married right after graduation, it crushed Emily. She refused to believe he could truly love someone else, convinced marriage was forever. Her own parents had been together twenty years, her grandparents till death. Even Sophia Anne had spoken of Stephen’s father as her husband until he vanished without a trace in a warzone.
“He didn’t even introduce me to his wife,” Sophia Anne complained one evening, visiting Emily’s parents. “Some city girl, full of airs.”
“Go and meet her yourself, then,” Emily’s mother suggested.
Sophia Anne just waved her off.
“Why should I? If he didn’t invite me to the wedding, then it’s clear enough. I won’t go.”
Emily pitied her, but more than that, she grieved Stephen never coming back. Yet, barely a year after his marriage, he returned to Littleford with his few belongings.
“Sophia’s boy is back,” her mother said one evening.
Emily bolted to the door, nearly knocking her over, sprinting to Sophia Anne’s house. On the porch, she collided with Stephen, stepping out for a smoke.
“Oi, Em!” He grinned, winking.
She noticed how he’d changed—grown older, properly a man now. A beard, streaks of grey though he was barely twenty-five.
“Hi, Stephen,” she murmured, fighting the urge to touch his face. “You’re back?”
He shrugged indifferently.
“Dunno yet. Divorced. Had to come back to Mum. Lived with my wife’s parents, and—well. Nothing was ever good enough.”
Emily stared, wondering how any woman could think Stephen lacking. He was wonderful! Handsome, kind, clever! Clearly, that city girl had been the problem.
“Maybe we could go to the cinema?” she offered.
He shook his head. “Nah. Got too much to do here.”
She hid her disappointment. Just having him near was enough—breathing the same air, talking. Maybe one day he’d realise she was the one meant for him.
But Sophia Anne wasn’t glad he’d returned. She tried getting him work on the farm, even drove to the city to call in favours. Nothing suited him.
“I’m tired of his complaining,” she confided in Emily once. “Now I see why his marriage failed. It wasn’t her—it was him.”
“That’s not true!” Emily protested. “Stephen’s good, you just don’t understand him!”
Sophia Anne smirked.
“Of course, I don’t know my own son! Selfish, just like his father.” She fell silent, looking away. Emily bit back her retort—Sophia Anne seemed too sad.
After months of drifting, Stephen left Littleford again without a word. Emily wept, remembering him as the best man she’d ever known.
Then tragedy struck—her parents died in a car crash. At eighteen, she’d planned to go to university, but life derailed. Without Sophia Anne’s help, she might have crumbled.
Stephen came to the funeral—with a slim, blonde girl gazing at him adoringly. Emily’s heart ached.
She learned of his second marriage weeks later. Sophia Anne mentioned it in passing, and Emily’s hopes shattered. She still loved him, but the dream was gone.
She stayed in Littleford, working on the farm, pulling herself from grief.
Then, just before Christmas, Sophia Anne told her Stephen was visiting for the holidays.
“Is he bringing his wife?”
“No. Alone,” Sophia Anne said drily. “If his life were fine, would he come back to this place?”
Emily’s heart leapt. At last! She’d tell him everything.
“You’re wrong to wait for him,” Sophia Anne warned.
Emily, already eyeing a lovely dress in town, frowned.
“Why? I care for him so much—”
“Too much. He doesn’t deserve it.”
Her tone—bitter, resigned—silenced Emily. She bought the dress anyway, showing it off later.
“You don’t need my son. He’ll ruin your life.”
Emily stared. Did Sophia Anne, who’d doted on Stephen, really think him unworthy? Surely she knew how deep Emily’s love ran?
On New Year’s Eve, Stephen turned up at her door, drunk and surly, after a row with his mother.
“Let’s drink,” he said, ignoring her dress.
That night, he stayed. To Emily, it was magic—the most important moment in years.
She woke transformed. Beside her lay Stephen, the man she’d waited for, saved herself for.
He left two days later without goodbye. She wept, begging Sophia Anne for news. The woman just shook her head.
“I warned you.”
In February, Emily discovered she was pregnant. She rang Stephen, who agreed—reluctantly—to meet at a café.
“You’ve got twenty minutes,” he said coldly.
The news didn’t move him. She searched his face for joy—found none.
“If you think this means I’ll marry you, don’t. I’ve met someone else.”
Her eyes stung. To her, that night had been magic—to him, nothing.
Back in Littleford, she wrestled with her choice. Days later, she went to Sophia Anne.
“You’re keeping it?” the woman asked bluntly.
“How did you know?”
“I’m not blind. And this village is small.”
Emily looked down. “I don’t know what to do. It’s Stephen’s.”
Sophia Anne sighed, taking her hand.
“I won’t tell you what to do. But I’ll say this—I once fell for a married man, thought I’d build happiness on someone else’s pain. Got pregnant. Had Stephen. Do I regret it? Yes. I could’ve married a good man, had a child in wedlock, loved them just as much. But I chose my path. You’ll live easier knowing your mistakes are your own—not made on someone else’s advice.”
Emily gaped. “But what’s my mistake? Loving your son?”
“Maybe,” Sophia Anne said. “Or maybe you’ll regret the abortion. Or regret keeping the child of a man who doesn’t want it. Like I did. You’ll spin stories—a father lost in duty, whatever—just to hide the truth.”
“Stephen’s father… he isn’t dead?”
Sophia Anne smirked.
“Alive and well. Probably on his fifth wife. Never wanted me, but he’s hopped from one to the next. Stephen’s just like him.”
Emily left, numb. By morning, her decision was firm.
Her daughter, Olivia, was born in October. By next Christmas, Sophia Anne was gone—having held her granddaughter once. Stephen didn’t visit his dying mother. Emily cared for her instead.
At the funeral, Stephen barely greeted her, another woman at his side. Emily said nothing about Olivia.
Six months later, he returned—to claim his inheritance.
“The house and land were left to Emily Grace Waverly,” the solicitor said. “She took ownership months ago.”
Stephen staggered.
“What? I’m her son! Her blood! Why her?”
“I tried contacting you.”
“I’m here now!”
“You can contest it.”
Furious, he stormed to Emily’s door, pounding until a stranger answered.
“Who are you?” Stephen demanded.
Emily appeared behind the man, touching his shoulder gently. “It’s all right, Edward.”
“Got married, then?” Stephen sneered. “At least someone wants you. At least you’re needed by someone.”
His words were cruel, but Emily stayed quiet.
“Yes. Someone wants me,” she said. “You’re here about the inheritance? Angry at your mother’s choice?”
He scowled. “It’s not fair. You’re nobody. I’m her sonAnd as she closed the door softly behind her, watching Stephen disappear down the lane, Emily knew—finally, truly—that she had everything she needed right here in this house, with the family she had chosen.
