**Diary Entry – 12th October**
*Bloody hell, James, you took the wrong turn. We should’ve gone further,* Emily snapped, gripping the dashboard.
*I know where I’m going,* James muttered, steering deeper into the woods down a narrow country lane.
*There’s meant to be a clearing right after the main road. It’s not here,* Emily said, peering through the trees. *Turn back and drive further. James, stop!*
He kept going. She could tell he knew he’d messed up. The lane narrowed, weeds sprouting between the tyre tracks. The road to the holiday cottage should’ve been wide, well-used. Instead, they were sinking deeper into the forest.
*Stop the car!* Emily barked, anger flashing.
*Where? There’s no space to turn around. Let me find a gap—*
*Because you should’ve listened to me in the first place. Stubborn as a mule.* She crossed her arms, fuming. *Never admits when he’s wrong. What’s so hard about it?*
Branches scraped the car, leaves scattering over the bonnet. Finally, James braked. The silence between them was suffocating.
*Couldn’t you have stopped earlier? We’re in the middle of nowhere. Lucky we didn’t end up in a ditch.*
*I told you, don’t backseat-drive,* he shot back.
Emily scowled. James turned the key, reversing inch by inch, both holding their breath as the car edged backward. It took ages, teetering close to disaster twice before they reached the main road again.
*Happy now?* James muttered.
*You had to prove a point, didn’t you? Just because I was right?* She exhaled, the anger fading now they were out of the trees.
*You always think you’re right. Ever noticed how you talk down to me? Like I’m some idiot.* His grip tightened on the wheel.
*Oh, so that’s why you kept driving? Pure spite? Feel better now?* Her head throbbed.
Lately, they’d bickered over everything—washing up, shopping, the telly volume. Was this just adjustment, or were they falling out of love? The rose-tinted glasses were off, and they saw each other raw.
*See? Still lecturing me.*
*Fine. Let’s just sit here forever, then.* She reclined her seat, eyes shut, done with arguing.
It hadn’t always been like this. They’d met on Brighton beach last summer. Her mate had gone to change, and there James was—tan, fit, grinning when she’d handed him the sunscreen. *Could you do my back? I’ll crisp otherwise.*
His hands had been warm, smoothing lotion over her skin. She’d shivered, pulse racing. *Thanks, I’ve got it,* she’d said, flustered, retreating to her towel.
Her mate had nudged her. *Go on, then.*
They’d been inseparable after that. Wild, reckless James balanced her steady nature. Within months, she’d moved in, defying her parents for the first time. The thrill of freedom, stolen kisses, lazy Sundays—she’d thought it’d last forever.
But nobody’s perfect. The little things grated now: his socks on the floor, her nagging. Today’s trip was the last straw.
She hadn’t wanted to go. James’ mates made her uneasy. The cottage? Only visited once at New Year’s. She’d remembered the turn by the clearing.
James drummed the steering wheel.
*Stop that.* She felt his glare but kept her eyes closed. The engine roared as he merged back onto the road.
*Right, genius, where’s the turn?* he asked minutes later.
Emily blinked. *We… missed it.*
*Oh, so now it’s my fault again?* His voice dripped sarcasm. *Now what?*
*Pull over.*
This time, he obeyed. A BMW honked as it sped past.
*Let’s not go,* she said suddenly.
*What?*
*This is all wrong. I don’t want to make things worse.*
*Christ, Em, we’re nearly there. Don’t be daft.* He gaped as she unbuckled. *Where are you going?*
*I’m done. You go. Your mates are waiting.* She slammed the door.
*Em, get back in! You should’ve said no earlier!*
*I did!* She marched off.
James chased her. *It’s dangerous out here!* He grabbed her arm.
*Go. There’s a bus stop somewhere.* She wrenched free.
*Last chance. Get in the car.*
Silence.
*Fine.* He spun on his heel.
The engine revved. She waited, heart pounding—surely he’d stop? But the car sped off, exhaust fumes stinging her eyes.
Five minutes. Ten. He didn’t return.
Thumbing a lift on the opposite side, she shivered as rain began. Brakes screeched. *James!* But it was a stranger—Middle Eastern, smiling. *Need a lift, love?*
She hesitated, then spotted another bloke in the back. *Sorry, waiting for my husband.* She hurried off, adrenaline spiking as they called after her.
The downpour soaked her. Each passing car twisted the knife. How could he leave her?
She’d called him a mule. Stupid. He was proud, she knew that. Rummaging for her phone, she groaned—left it at home.
*Bloody perfect.*
*James, please come back,* she whispered, teeth chattering. Another car slowed. A bloke in a transit van. *You headed to town?*
She shook her head.
Drenched and weeping, she trudged on. Then—salvation. A Volvo pulled up. A woman in her forties frowned. *Get in. You’ll catch your death.*
Emily collapsed into the heated seat.
*Fell out with your bloke?* the woman asked.
A nod.
*He left you here?* Disbelief. *Absolute tosser.*
Emily’s hand drifted to her stomach.
*Oh, love… He didn’t know?*
*Was going to tell him today.*
*No excuse.* The woman sighed. *My ex was the same. Left when our son was born disabled. Four now, can’t walk. Brilliant, though—reads already. Men…* She shook her head. *But you’ll be alright. Just don’t soak in a hot bath—tea, blankets, that’s the ticket.*
A mile from Emily’s flat, the woman handed her a card. *Margaret. Call if you need anything.*
Home at last, Emily wrapped in a duvet, sipping tea. *Where are you, James?*
Dozing off, she jolted awake to his arms around her.
*Em, I’m sorry. I’m a prat,* he choked into her hair. *Got lost, phone died. Some old biddy fed me tea, then said I’d lose what I hadn’t even found yet. Knew straight off—you’re pregnant, aren’t you?*
She cried in relief. He’d panicked, regretted it. *Love you,* she whispered.
*No more zoos,* she joked weakly.
*What?*
*Nothing.*
They made up that night. Promises poured out. She knew they’d fight again—life wasn’t fairy tales—but for now, it was enough.
Their son arrived healthy. They married.
They still rowed. She’d yell; he’d clench his jaw. Then they’d make up, whispering apologies in the dark.
Love wasn’t perfect. But it was theirs.
**Lesson:** Pride’s a stubborn thing. Swallow it before you lose what matters.
