**Ten Years Wasted**
*Diary Entry*
“Bloody hell, Valerie!” shouted Emily, snatching the mug of lukewarm coffee from the table. “Ten years! Ten years we’ve been friends, and you—”
“And what about me?” Valerie cut in, leaping up from the sofa. “Was I supposed to report my every move to you? You were the one who said you were done with Daniel!”
“I *said* it! But not so you could swoop in the moment I walked away!” Emily slammed the mug down so hard coffee sloshed onto the saucer. “Christ, how am I supposed to even look at the two of you now?”
Valerie sank back onto the sofa, knotting her dark hair in her fists. She’d known this confrontation was coming, yet she still wasn’t prepared for the storm.
“Em, just listen,” she began quietly. “We’re not kids anymore. You and Daniel divorced over a year ago. A *year*. And all this time, you’ve been saying you were free, that you’d never go back—”
“Yes, I said it! So what?” Emily flung open and shut cupboard doors as if searching for something that didn’t exist. “That doesn’t mean I want to see him with my best friend!”
“Former best friend, by the looks of it,” Valerie muttered bitterly.
They met at university, first-year Economics students. Emily had been all bright smiles and fiery curls, while Valerie was the studious type, hiding behind thick-rimmed glasses. On paper, they had nothing in common—yet they clicked instantly.
“Val, do you even know how to put on makeup?” Emily had asked after their first lecture, eyeing her.
“No. Why would I?”
“I’ll teach you! And you can help me with stats—numbers scramble my brain.”
Just like that, friendship bloomed. Emily polished Valerie into someone who turned heads, while Valerie kept Emily from flunking. They were inseparable—studying, dating, dreaming side by side.
“Val?” Emily whispered one night in their cramped dorm. “I want to marry a real man. Someone strong, handsome, the type who makes your knees weak.”
“I just want to love,” Valerie replied. “Someone who *gets* me, who I can sit with in silence and still feel happy.”
Daniel arrived in their third year. Tall, athletic, exuding effortless charm, he transferred from another city and had every girl on campus staring.
“That’s it, I’m doomed,” Emily groaned dramatically after spotting him. “He’s *the one*.”
Valerie only smiled. Daniel was handsome, sure, but something about him felt too… rehearsed, like he’d memorized all the right things to say.
“Emily, hey!” Daniel called after class. “Can you show me where to get decent food around here?”
“Absolutely!” Emily beamed. “Val’s coming too, right?”
“I’ve got to see a tutor,” Valerie lied. “Go ahead.”
Emily fell head over heels. Daniel, for his part, seemed just as smitten with her vivacious energy. Within a month, they were dating—leaving Valerie the reluctant third wheel.
“Val, don’t sulk!” Emily pleaded. “You’re like my sister! Daniel adores you!”
“I’m fine,” Valerie deflected. “Just swamped with exams.”
Except she wasn’t fine. Because Daniel *was* different. He actually *listened*—discussed books, films, ideas Emily brushed off.
“Valerie, ever thought of academia?” he asked one café meet-up. “You’ve got a brilliant mind.”
“Oh, stop!” Emily laughed. “Val’s far too practical. All about climbing the corporate ladder!”
“Maybe,” Valerie said softly.
Daniel held her gaze, something unreadable in his eyes. She looked away, pulse hammering.
“Emily, could you—” Daniel started.
“Ugh, I forgot!” Emily cut in. “Dentist appointment! Val, walk Daniel back to halls, yeah?”
Before either could reply, she was gone.
They walked through the university park in silence. October leaves crunched underfoot, rain hanging in the air.
“Val,” Daniel said suddenly, stopping. “You know you’re beautiful, don’t you?”
“What?” She nearly stumbled.
“Emily’s striking, sure. But you’re… different. Your eyes, the way you think—”
“Daniel, don’t,” she whispered, turning away.
“You’re dating Emily.”
“I am. But it doesn’t mean I’m blind.”
“*She’s my best friend*.”
“I know. That’s why nothing ever happened. But if—”
“If doesn’t count,” she snapped. “Let’s go.”
They parted at the dorm without another word.
That evening, Emily burst in, grinning despite a swollen cheek. “Val! Turns out it wasn’t my tooth—it’s stress! Know why I’m stressed? Because I’m *mad* for Daniel! He’s so… *perfect*. The way he *looks* at me—like he *sees* me.”
Valerie’s stomach twisted. Those looks weren’t for Emily. But how could she say that?
Two years later, they married. A lavish wedding, white lace, beaming parents. Valerie stood as maid of honour, smiling through every photo, avoiding the groom’s eyes.
“Val, I’d be lost without you!” Emily sobbed in the loos, fixing her makeup. “You’re the best friend ever!”
“Just be happy,” Valerie said softly—while her heart ached at the thought of watching them together.
Yet time dulled the pain. Valerie threw herself into work, climbed the career ladder, moved across London. Dated men who never measured up.
Emily and Daniel seemed content. They hosted dinners, celebrated holidays. Daniel remained courteous but distant, an invisible wall between them.
“Val, when are *you* settling down?” Emily prodded. “Thirty’s creeping up!”
“Haven’t met the right one.”
“You’re too picky! Daniel’s got a divorced colleague—decent bloke—”
“No, thanks.”
Cracks emerged in year five. Emily griped that Daniel had grown withdrawn.
“He comes home and zones out at his laptop!” she fumed. “I talk, he grunts. Like talking to a *wall*!”
“Maybe he’s tired,” Valerie offered.
“Oh, please! Weekends are no better. He’d rather *read* than spend time with me!”
Valerie stayed silent. Daniel had always loved books, deep conversations—things Emily dismissed as boring.
“Val, talk to him?” Emily begged. “You’re smart—he’ll listen to you!”
“Why would I interfere?”
“*Because you’re my best friend!* I’m desperate!”
They met at their old student café. Daniel looked weary, streaks of grey at his temples.
“Val,” he said the moment they sat. “I know why you asked me here.”
“You do?”
“Emily sent you. She thinks I’ve changed.”
“Have you?”
He spun his coffee cup, quiet for too long.
“Know the worst part of marriage?” he finally said. “Realizing you love the wrong person. That you married an *idea* of someone.”
“Daniel—”
“Ten years, Val. Ten years with someone I *thought* I loved. But the truth? It’s always been you.”
Her breath caught. Words she’d waited a lifetime to hear, now only bringing pain.
“It’s too late,” she whispered.
“I know. But I can’t pretend anymore. Can’t fake interest in the life we built.”
“And Emily?”
“Loves who she *thinks* I am.”
They sat, weighed down by years of silence.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
“Nothing. Just needed you to know. To apologize for stealing ten years from you.”
“You didn’t steal anything. I *chose* silence.”
“We both did. And now we pay for it.”
Six months later, Emily filed for divorce. Daniel was seeing a colleague—a sharp-eyed journalist.
“Ten years, Val!” Emily sobbed over the phone. “Ten years, and he replaces me with some *nerd*!”
“Em, breathe—”
“I *can’t*! What do I tell everyone? They all thought we were *perfect*!”
Valerie listened, struck by life’s cruel irony. Emily wept for a man who’d never truly been hers. Daniel chased love elsewhere, too cowardly to fight for what he really wanted. And Valerie? Still alone, carrying the weight of unsaid words.
A year passed. Emily bounced back—new haircut, French lessons, travel plans. Daniel remarried. Valerie stayed single, meeting Emily for occasional coffees.
“Val,” Emily mused one day, stirring her latte, “I’ve realized divorce isn’t the end. Maybe I’ll go abroad—always wanted to.”
“That’s great,” Valerie smiled.
“And you? Still single?”
“Yeah. I’m alright.”
“Val, have you ever—” EmilyAnd as Valerie walked away, she realized that sometimes, the hardest choices lead to the only peace worth having.
