**Diary Entry – 15th June**
Beautiful and free-spirited Emily fell head over heels for a man named Oliver—so handsome it made her uneasy. She worked at a salon in London, and he walked in one day for a haircut, sliding into her chair with an easy smile.
“Just a trim, please,” he said politely, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. Sparks flew instantly.
*Bloody hell, he’s gorgeous,* Emily thought, her fingers trembling slightly as she worked.
*She’s stunning,* Oliver mused. *Never noticed this place before—lucky I dropped in. Wonder if she’s single? A girl like her must have someone.*
She finished the cut too quickly, regretting it immediately. *Should’ve taken my time. Oh well, just another client.*
But Oliver wasn’t about to let her slip away. After work, he waited outside with a bouquet.
“These are for you,” he said, grinning.
“Me? What for?”
“For the best haircut I’ve ever had.” They both laughed. “Fancy a coffee?”
“Alright,” she agreed, though doubt nagged at her. *How is someone like him still single?*
Over coffee, he charmed her effortlessly—witty, kind, impossible not to like. Soon, they were inseparable. Emily kept waiting for him to lose interest, but he only grew more devoted. Months passed, and talk of moving in together, even marriage, began.
But Emily hesitated. Oliver was too handsome—women stared wherever they went. She knew trouble would follow.
“Em,” he’d sigh, using his pet name for her, “what’s all this nonsense? You think I’d ever hurt you?”
“I just… don’t trust handsome men. I see how women look at you.”
“Should I scar myself, then?” he joked.
She loved him desperately—his sharp cheekbones, those warm eyes, his unwavering loyalty. He adored her just as fiercely. Eventually, she relented. They married.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he’d whisper, and she’d melt.
Still, she noticed the lingering glances from other women. Then came Sophie, the salon’s new hire—bubbly, pretty, and far too interested in Oliver.
“Who’s *that*?” Sophie gasped the first time she saw him, watching through the window as he kissed Emily’s cheek before lunch.
“That’s her husband,” a coworker said.
“*Husband?* No way.”
From then on, Sophie wouldn’t let up. “Aren’t you scared someone’ll steal him? Men that fit don’t stay faithful.”
“I’m not worried,” Emily lied, though doubt crept in.
Sophie kept needling. “Everything alright with you two? Still got him locked down?”
“Perfectly fine, thanks.” Emily shot her a icy look. “He only has eyes for me.”
Sophie backtracked. “Didn’t mean anything by it!”
But Emily’s suspicion grew. One day, Oliver arrived unannounced. Emily had popped out, and Sophie pounced.
“Oliver! Come in, love. Your wife’s vanished again—typical, eh? Fancy a coffee while you wait?”
Emily, hidden nearby, seethed. Then—a thud.
“Get off me!” Oliver snapped. “If you weren’t a woman, I’d—”
Emily stepped out, feigning innocence. “Sorry, had to dash to the shop!”
Oliver scowled. “Your *colleague* needs sacking.”
Later, Emily watched him drive off, guilt gnawing at her. *Spying on him? He’d be crushed if he knew.* But Sophie’s meddling had rattled her.
That evening, Oliver fumed. “She’s unhinged. Quit that place.”
Emily laughed it off, but the thought lingered. *If I run from every Sophie, I’d have to leave him too.*
Shame burned in her chest. She loved him—yet she’d doubted.
*Lesson learned: Trust is brittle. Test it too often, and it’ll shatter on its own.*
