We Think Life is Complicated, Yet We Keep Making It More Difficult

Author Harlan CovingtonReading 9 minViews 3

15 March 2024
Dear Diary,

From my early days at StCatherines in Manchester I could see how simple things often become tangled by our own hands. Emily Turner was always the one who caught the eye of James Harper. It was as clear as day; James never tried to hide it. After lessons in Year10 hed linger, walking beside her like a faithful squire, cracking jokes while she burst into loud laughter. Yet she treated him only as a friend.

At first the other pupils teased both of them. If James wasnt nearby, a classmate would prod Emily:

Why are you walking alone, love? Wheres your guard?

Shed brush it off with a giggle. Emily knew James was smitten and let him have his fun. They sat together in class, he helped her with the quizzes, and he was a top student, while she scraped by with Cgrades.

She confided in her best mate, Lucy Bennett. Lucy praised James as a genuine, honest lad whod make a fine husband.

Honestly, Emily, Im not keen on James because hes a bit shy and lives with his mother. Hell probably be an ordinary family man forever. I crave excitement, Emily complained in Year11.

Do you really think Oliver Clarke will turn out to be a proper husband? Lucy asked. You cant be so blunt about your feelings; everyone in the class, including James, knows youre pining after him.

Where do you get these rules for dealing with boys? Youve never dated anyone, quiet girl. Why hide it? Oliver knows too, and we keep exchanging glances, James retorted, amused.

Just because I read romance novels and watch films, Lucy replied. My mum always says a man should chase you, not the other way round.

Emily and Lucy had been inseparable since childhood; Emily was lively, Lucy more reserved.

At the graduation ball, Oliver spotted Emily in a lovely dress, slender and almost ethereal. He took her hand and led her to the centre of the hall. They danced gracefully, drawing admiring glances from the crowd. James stood aside, looking forlorn, while Lucy watched him with sympathy.

Then Oliver leaned in and said, Shall we date? I see you with new eyes nowbeautiful, with a radiant smile.

Lets, Emily answered, trying to mask her joy, though she felt she was on cloud nine.

Oliver had long known what Emily liked, but many girls surrounded them, making choice difficult. That night the whole class partied until dawn, and later Oliver escorted Emily home. She didnt think of James; he left early because his mother was ill. As the old saying goes, We wound those who love us, never understanding the good.

From then on Emily dreamed of a future with Oliver, putting her studies aside. She told him how theyd build a life together, and he nodded.

Emily, Im thinking of applying to a nursing college. What about you? she asked.

Im not heading to university. I barely scraped my Alevels, Oliver laughed. Ill train as a driver with the army and serve my country.

Ill wait for you, no doubt, Emily promised, clinging to him.

Ill serve, return, and well marry, he replied, hugging her tightly, hinting at his desire for closeness.

Dont rush, Emily whispered. When you come back well file the paperwork, and Ill be yours. Thats how Mum raised me.

Oliver agreed, though he never pushed. Little did Emily know, he would soon be with another, more carefree girl named Anna, and return home by morning.

Emily saw Oliver off to the army and waited faithfully. James often approached her.

Emily, Oliver isnt the man you need for life. Trust me, he urged, but she laughed it off, keeping him as just a friend.

James was an only child; his mother, bedridden for years, depended on him. He cared for her, sometimes calling neighbour MrsWard for help.

Ill get Mum back on her feet, then Ill have more time, he told his mates, studying at a local college instead of traveling to Oxford.

Years later, Oliver returned from service. Emily, fresh from her exams, rushed to his house, only to find him in someone elses arms, both laughing loudly. Shock hit her like a slap; she fled home without looking back.

Her mother tried to console her.

Darling, I told you Oliver wasnt right for you. James kept warning you. Youre stubborn, clinging to the idea that only Oliver mattered.

Soon Emily learned Anna was pregnant with Olivers child and a wedding was imminent. In a fit of spite, she turned to James, proposing marriage despite his lingering feelings for her.

Two years passed. Emily and James lived together peacefully; she never argued with him. His mother passed away, and they remained in Jamess family home. She sensed Jamess deep love and his yearning for more than mere respect, yet she kept herself locked away, resentful of the world.

One afternoon, leaving a shop, she bumped into Oliver. He grabbed her hand.

Emily, Im sorry for the hurt I caused.

Ive forgiven you long ago, she replied, eager to leave. Our paths have diverged. Farewell.

He begged, Listen. I love only you. I thought you were waiting for me after the army, but Anna left me. The child isnt mine; she deceived me.

She stared, disbelief flashing in her eyes. Is that true, Oliver?

He swore it was, and she believed him.

Emilys life turned upside down. She could think of nothing but Oliver. She confessed everything to James.

I met Oliver, were divorcing. I love him, she told him.

Emily, youll regret this a hundred times, his mother warned. James loves you truly; Oliver isnt worth it. James echoed the same.

Both of you dont understand. I love him, she replied, storming off to Oliver.

Time passed. Emily felt the happiest shed ever been, watching Oliver stumble home, halfdrunk, yet she turned a blind eye, still seeing through rosecoloured glasses. One morning she found lipstick marks on his shirt.

Oliver, explain this, she demanded, holding the stain up.

I dont know where it came from, he muttered, feigning innocence, claiming someone wanted to stir trouble.

His drunken evenings continued, always with traces of another womans lipstick. Eventually, after yet another indiscretion, Emily retrieved their divorce papers and left him for good. He never called again. She moved back with her mother.

My mother and James warned me, but I ignored them, she thought often at night. Why did I hurt James so badly? Is this fate?

She realized the blame lay with herself. She closed the door on that marriage, yet the ache lingered. She began to think of James again, wanting to apologise, but pride held her back. Then, one evening, James appeared at her doorstep.

Emily, perhaps this is a blessing in disguise, he said, looking directly into her eyes.

Thank you, she whispered, finally understanding the love that had always been there.

They remarried, and life settled. Their son, Harry, was born, bringing joy to both. James supported everything, and Emily finally felt genuine affection.

When Harry was five, a neighbour, MrsParker, stopped her on the street.

Emily, have you noticed James being unfaithful? she asked.

No, never, Emily replied, shocked.

Men are all the same, MrsParker muttered. Ive seen James with my friend Veras daughter, even walking her home. Keep an eye on him.

Emily froze, Harrys hand gripping hers. She couldnt believe it. She followed James and saw him with a little girl, laughing. She grabbed Harry and fled, seeking refuge with Lucy in a nearby town, filing for divorce again. She could not fathom how James could do such a thing.

Years later, James finally found them. He was gaunt, his eyes sunken, and knocked on the door of the modest flat where Emily stayed.

Emily, we need to talk, he said.

What? I dont want to hear anything, she snapped.

I was wrong. I should have told you everything, he pleaded. The woman I was with was my friend Igors wife. She died in an accident, and I was caring for her daughter, Alina, because she had no one. When you left with Harry, I thought Id adopt Alina. Its too late now, but Im sorry.

Emily, stunned, steadied herself and embraced the man she once loved. The three of them returned home together. They finally signed the papers for the third timethis time for good.

Alina was adopted, and the siblings grew up as a close-knit family. The children graduated, started their own families, and now Emily and James sit surrounded by grandchildren, grateful for the twists of fate that finally brought them together. Three marriages, all to the same man, taught her that love can be stubborn, but patience and honesty eventually win.

Lesson learned: we often complicate our own lives, but the simplest truthbeing true to oneself and othersalways finds its way back.

We’re Moving Into Your Flat — “Oli’s got a lovely flat in the heart of town. The place is newly renovated—you just move in and enjoy!” — “It’s great for a single girl,” Rustam smiled condescendingly at Inna, as if she were a child. “But we’ve got big plans—two, maybe three children. One after the other, ideally. It’s noisy in town, the air’s awful, there’s nowhere to park. And most of all, it’s just two rooms. But here—you’ve got three. The area is quiet, there’s a nursery right outside.” — “It is a nice neighbourhood,” agreed Sergei, still not seeing where his future brother-in-law was going with this. “That’s why we settled here ourselves.” — “Exactly!” Rustam snapped his fingers. “I keep telling Olga—why should we squeeze into a shoebox when there’s a perfect solution?” It’s just you and your daughter—surely you don’t need all this space? Realistically, one of your rooms is just a dumping ground. For us, this place would be just right. Inna was wrestling a vacuum cleaner into the hallway cupboard. The vacuum was putting up a fight—its hose caught on hangers, completely refusing to slot into place. — “Serge, give me a hand!” she called out. “Either this cupboard’s shrunk, or I’ve forgotten how to organise things.” Sergei poked his head out of the bathroom—he’d just finished fiddling with the tap. Calm and always a bit slow-moving, he was the polar opposite of his wife. — “Let’s sort it,” he said, deftly manhandling the heavy cleaner into the corner of the cupboard. Inna sighed and collapsed against the doorframe. — “Explain to me how we always run out of space. It’s a big flat—three rooms—yet every time we tidy up, you’d think we were evacuating to the street.” — “That’s because you’re a bit of a hoarder,” Sergei chuckled, “Why do we need three dinner sets? We only use one, twice a year.” — “Sentimental value, that’s why—they’re from Grandma’s place.” After their wedding, Sergei’s family had split the inheritance fairly: he got this spacious three-bedroom in a quiet neighbourhood from his grandmother; his sister Olya got a two-bedroom right in the ‘golden square’ of the city centre. The money worked out much the same. For five years everyone got on, no one was envious. Inna naively thought it would always stay like that, but… *** They finished tidying, the chaos cleared, and just sat down when the doorbell rang. Sergei went to answer. — “It’s my sister and her fiancé,” he said to his wife after checking the peephole. Olya swooped in first, followed by Rustam, who trudged in heavily. Inna had only met him a couple of times—Olya had found him at a gym about six months ago. Rustam had rubbed her the wrong way instantly—arrogant, looking down on both her and Sergei. — “Hiya!” Olya kissed her brother’s cheek and hugged Inna. “We were just passing and thought we’d pop in. We’ve got news!” — “Come in, then. News is always good,” Sergei waved them into the kitchen. “Tea?” — “Just water, thanks,” Rustam lumbered behind their host, “We’ve got serious business to discuss, Sergei.” Not really ‘just passing.’ They wanted something. No need for tea. Take a seat. An uneasy feeling crept over Inna—she didn’t like Rustam’s tone one bit. What was he after? — “Go on then,” Sergei shrugged. Olya hovered in the background, glued to her phone, letting her fiancé do the talking. Rustam cleared his throat. — “So. We’ve filed for notice. Wedding’s in three months. I’m sure you can appreciate—I’ve got big plans. Family, joint life, happy ever after. We had a think about our housing situation… We’re moving in with you, and you can move to our place!” Inna was gobsmacked. She looked at her husband, then at her sister-in-law, who was still scrolling on her phone as if none of this concerned her. — “Rustam, I’m not following,” Sergei frowned. “Are you hinting at something?” — “Not hinting—making a constructive proposal. Let’s swap!” We move here, and you take Olya’s flat. Olya’s on board with me—she agrees it’s only fair. Inna was floored a second time. — “Fair?” she echoed. “Rustam, are you being serious? You come into our home and suggest we move out because you want kids?” — “No need to be dramatic, Inna,” Rustam grimaced. “Just being practical. You’ve got one child, and as far as I know, you’re not planning more. What’s the point of having all this space? That’s not efficient. We’ve got plans for a big family.” — “Wow, plans!” Inna stood up. “Sergei, are you hearing this?” Sergei raised a hand to silence his wife. — “Rustam, you do know this flat was left to me by my family? Just like Olya’s was left to her. We’ve spent five years working on this place—every skirting board, every detail. Our daughter’s growing up here, she’s got her own room and friends. Are you really asking us to up sticks and go to the centre just because it suits you better?” — “Sergei, calm down,” Rustam leaned back casually. “You’re family—Olya is your flesh and blood. Don’t you care about her future? I’m offering fair conditions. You’d be gaining prime property in a prestigious postcode. You’d be winning, I’ve checked the prices.” — “Interesting logic,” Sergei smirked. “You’re not even married to my sister yet, but you’re already eyeing up my flat!” Finally, Olya looked up from her phone. — “Oh, come on, don’t be like this!” she whined. “Rustam’s just trying to do what’s best. We’ll be so cramped in my place once there’s kids. You’ve got a hallway big enough for a five-a-side match. Mum always said, family comes first. Didn’t she, Sergei?” — “Mum said family helps each other, Olya—not that one should kick the other out!” snapped Inna. “Do you even hear what your Rustam’s saying?” — “What’s wrong with it?” Olya blinked in innocence. “He’s got a point. We need it more. You’re not even using that spare room!” — “It’s not spare!” Inna almost shouted. “It’s my study! I work there, in case you forgot.” — “Work?” Rustam scoffed. “Posting pictures online? Olya says it’s just a hobby. You can sit in the kitchen with a laptop, you’re not royalty.” Sergei slowly stood up. — “Right,” he said quietly. “That’s enough. Time for you both to go.” — “Hold on a second!” Rustam didn’t budge. “We just came to talk—like family.” — “Like family?” Sergei strode to the table. “You come in here wanting my flat, insulting my wife, deciding where my daughter should live? Are you actually serious?” — “Sergei, honestly!” Inna stood by her husband. “It’s pure greed. He’s not even put a ring on your finger, Olya, and already he’s dividing up the property. Do you realise who you’ve brought here? He’d kick you out of your own flat first chance he gets!” — “Don’t you dare speak about him that way!” Olya shot up. “Rustam cares about me—about our future! And you’re just greedy. Clinging onto your home like hermits. Some brother you are!” — “The greedy one’s your would-be husband,” Sergei pointed to the door. “For the hard of hearing—out. Both of you. And forget this flat swap—forever. If you bring it up again, we won’t be talking at all.” Rustam stood up, straightened his collar. Not a flicker of shame—just irritation. — “That’s a shame, Sergei. I thought we could come to an arrangement. But if you’re so stubborn…” “Olya, let’s go.” When the door slammed behind them, Inna collapsed on the sofa. She was shaking. — “Did you hear that? Did you see that? The cheek! Who does he think he is?” Sergei didn’t answer, staring out the window as Rustam bossily opened his car, berating Olya. — “You know the worst bit?” he said finally. “Olya really believes he’s right. She’s always been a bit… away with the fairies, but this?” — “He’s turned her head!” Inna jumped up. “Sergei, ring your mum. Your parents need to know what schemes their future son-in-law is cooking up.” — “Hang on,” Sergei took out his phone. “I’ll call my sister first. Just her, without that peacock around.” He dialed; it rang for a long time before Olya, audibly crying, picked up. — “Hello!” she sniffed. — “Olya, listen to me,” Sergei’s voice was firm. “Are you in the car with him?” — “What difference does it make?” — “If he’s there, put it on loudspeaker. I want him to hear this too.” — “I’m not with him,” Olya sobbed. “He dropped me off and drove away. Said he needs to cool off because my family are all selfish. Sergei, why are you lot like this? He just wanted things to be perfect…” — “Olya, wake up!” Sergei almost shouted. “Perfect? He came here to scam a flat out of us! Do you even get that your home is your inheritance? And he’s already passing it around like it’s his? Did he even talk to you about this ‘swap’ before we sat down together?” Silence. — “No,” Olya finally whispered. “He just said he had a surprise for everyone. That he’d thought out what was best for us all.” — “Some surprise. He’s decided both our futures for us, without asking. Olya, look who you’re marrying—he’s a user. He’ll take your flat today, demand your car tomorrow, and then get your parents to give him their cottage because he needs ‘fresh air’.” — “Don’t say that…” Olya’s voice wobbled. “He loves me.” — “If he loved you, would he start a row like that? He tried to turn us against each other! Inna’s still in shock. Don’t you see—he wanted to split us up?” — “I’ll talk to him,” Olya mumbled uncertainly. — “Do that. And think very carefully before you head down the aisle.” Sergei hung up and tossed the phone on the sofa. — “What did she say?” Inna asked softly. — “She said she didn’t know. Rustam was planning his ‘surprise.’” Inna gave a bitter laugh. — “I can picture it. He just waltzes in, decides where everyone and everything goes—shuffling rooms and people. Makes you sick.” — “Never mind,” Sergei hugged his wife. “We’re not giving up the flat, that’s for sure. But I do feel sorry for my sister. She’ll land herself in trouble with him.” *** The worst never happened—there was no wedding. Rustam dumped Olya that same night. Tearfully, Olya turned up at her brother’s flat, telling them everything. Rustam went straight to packing his stuff. Olya panicked and asked him what was going on. Rustam said he wasn’t interested in becoming family with such greedy people. — “He said he doesn’t need relatives like that,” Olya sobbed. “He reckons we can’t be relied on. He said you’d never look after the kids on weekends so we could have a break. And that you’d never lend us money if we ever needed it.” — “Honestly, Olya, don’t be upset!” Inna comforted her. “You don’t need someone like him. He can’t be relied on, he’ll never care about family—only what’s in it for himself. Forget him!” Olya was down for a while, but she got over it. She realised the truth in the end: if she’d married him, it would have been misery. She’d dodged a bullet—no doubt about it.

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