**Diary Entry**
Every woman dreams of finding the right man, building a strong family, and living happily ever after. But fairy tales don’t come true for everyone, and the harder you love, the harder the fall.
Emily was certain she’d met her soulmate. Back in secondary school, she’d fallen for Jack—tall, handsome, with a smile straight out of a film. He swept her off her feet—late-night walks, whispered promises, stolen glances. Years later, they were a proper couple.
Her mum, Margaret, disliked him from the start. She saw something lazy, something *unfinished* in him. But Emily was blinded—to her, he was perfect. She got into university with top marks; Jack barely scraped into college before dropping out.
*“Mum, you just don’t understand him! This is real love!”* she’d say, brushing off every warning.
When Jack landed a job at an electronics shop, he acted like he’d conquered the world. The meagre pay barely covered pints and takeaways, but he didn’t care. Margaret did. She tried to reason with Emily, but it was no use.
They had a small wedding. Money was tight, so they moved into a grimy little flat in Manchester, sharing walls with nosy neighbours. Emily didn’t mind—she had Jack. But he half-arsed his work, shrugging off responsibilities. Soon, Emily was borrowing money from her mum. Margaret helped—groceries, clothes, even savings—but every visit with Jack made her blood boil. He felt like an intruder, weak, *not a real man*.
When things got worse, Emily asked to stay with her mum for a while—just till they could afford a place. Margaret agreed reluctantly, but regretted it fast. Jack lazed on the sofa all day while Emily juggled uni and odd jobs, exhausted but defending him.
*“He’s just tired,”* she’d insist.
Three months in, Jack cracked under the pressure and dragged Emily back to their tiny flat—at least there, no one nagged him. Margaret was relieved, praying Emily wouldn’t get pregnant.
Fate had other plans. Jack lost his job. Emily got a promotion, started earning decent money. Then—she was expecting.
Margaret was thrilled to be a grandmother… until reality sank in. She still couldn’t stand Jack. So when Emily, worn out with a newborn, asked to move back in, Margaret set her terms:
*“Just you and the baby. Not Jack. Not ever.”*
*“Mum, he’s the father!”* Emily snapped.
*“And did you think of that when you married him?”* Margaret said coldly. *“Let him grow up first.”*
Emily was torn. Pride or survival? She went back to Jack in that dingy flat, hoping her mum would soften. But Margaret stayed firm.
To her, Jack was a stranger—not the man she wanted near her daughter or grandchild. But children follow their hearts, not logic. A mother’s love aches, but it doesn’t bend.
Time will tell who was right. For now, mother and daughter learn to love at a distance, accepting choices that don’t match their dreams.
Was Margaret right? Or should she have swallowed her pride for Emily’s sake? Sometimes, love hurts either way.
