Emily Taylor

“Are you alright, love?” A concerned male voice snapped her out of her daze. She looked up

**Diary Entry** I’ve never been one to tempt fate, but here I am, hopelessly in love—with a man so handsome

When Mum decided to remarry, Emily didn’t mind. She quite liked her mother’s choice—Paul, a calm and

“I want to lie down—looking after the kids is women’s work!” declared my husband, shutting his eyes.

“You only eat and do nothing,” she snapped, and so I quietly packed my bags and sold the

He must never know. Emily stood outside the old block of flats, her finger hovering over the buzzer.

I hadn’t spoken to my father in twelve years. Then, out of the blue, he sent a postcard with a single

The Decision to Return Lovely Maisie Whitaker was getting married. Everyone at university had assumed

“Happy anniversary, love!” my husband declared grandly, presenting me with a vacuum cleaner.

On a crisp autumn afternoon in the quaint village of Ashford, the market square buzzed with its usual