**Diary Entry**
Half my life, Ive lived alone. Well, not entirelyI was married once, but my husband walked out a year after the wedding. Id just given birth to our daughter, Emily. At least Peter had the decency to leave us the three-bedroom flat. Never planned to marry again. Didnt need to. I had Emily to raise, and that was responsibility enough. More than enough, honestly.
I tried my best, but I knew she missed having a father. That was one thing I couldnt give her. Over time, she grew too attached to every boy she dated or befriended. Not all of them appreciated that. Too many nights, I held her while she cried over another broken heart. Then, thank God, she met Daniel.
He was kind, responsibleeverything Id hoped for. I encouraged her to marry him. He respected me, adored Emilywhat more could I want? For a while, I thought he was the perfect son-in-law. But fairy tales dont last. Six months into their marriage, he changed.
Around that time, my own mother fell ill. Shed had me young, just as Id had Emily, so shed lived to see her granddaughter. But age caught up with her, and I had no choice but to move her in. It wasnt easy, but she wasnt difficultstill sharp, never demanding. Yet Daniel acted as if Id brought in a stray.
No idea why it bothered him so much. He wasnt the one caring for herthat was all on me. Still, he sulked. Then Emily started avoiding me too. We used to share meals; now they shut themselves away. I tried talking to her, but she just made excuses.
No grandchildren, either. “Were not ready,” they said. I stopped pressingtheir life, their choice. But Daniel grew worse. Strutted around *my* flat like he owned the place, though hed never lifted a finger to fix a leak or buy so much as a lampshade. Always out with his mates, though. Where was the man Id thought he was?
Guess hed finally shown his true colours.
By Christmas, I could hardly stand him. He refused to celebrate with us, dragging Emily to their room instead. At midnight, she slipped out to wish us a happy New YearDaniel didnt even bother.
Then, the next morning, he announced, “Emily and I are selling your mothers house to buy our own flat.”
I nearly laughed. Were they serious? After living off me for half a year?
“No,” I said. “Youll earn your own way. Thats Mums house. Hers to decide.”
He stormed out that same day, Emily in townot a word of protest from her.
Hurts, but its her choice. If she thinks this is happiness, so be it.
Did I do the right thing? What would you have done?
