**Diary Entry**
He came back from fishing far too early—and walked straight into something he never expected.
Benjamin Edward had his usual Friday routine: fishing. This time, he’d driven out of London, started the engine, and headed toward the river where he loved to sit alone with his rod. But the moment he left the city, the sky darkened with heavy clouds, and thick raindrops drummed against the windscreen.
“Well then… cancelled,” he sighed, turning the car around.
Forty minutes later, he unlocked the front door of his flat.
“Dad, why’re you back so soon?” His daughter’s surprised face peeked out from her room.
“Weather’s rubbish. Fishing’s off. What’re you up to?”
“Watching telly,” called Emily before ducking back inside.
Benjamin went to the kitchen, unpacked groceries, and started cooking dinner. Everything fell into place—chopping, frying, the kettle boiling—until the meal was ready. He went to call Emily, but when he reached her door, it wasn’t locked. It swung open too easily…
His sharp gaze landed on a young man hovering awkwardly by the window. Fear flickered in Emily’s eyes; tension stiffened the boy’s shoulders.
Benjamin’s inner alarm went off. He didn’t need words.
He’d raised Emily alone. Her mother left when she was just a baby—left for another man, moved abroad, and never looked back except for the odd Christmas card. Benjamin hadn’t grown bitter. He hadn’t broken. He became both father and friend to his daughter. And maybe, because of that, he’d grown too strict.
He knew everything: what she ate, who her friends were, when she came home, what she worried about. And yes, he forbade things. Gymnastics—because grades slipped. A certain mate—for running with a bad crowd. Romance? Only after university! The last thing he needed was unplanned pregnancies or failed exams.
Emily accepted it. Because she understood: he meant well. But inside, resentment simmered.
When she fell for James, fear kept her quiet. A final-year student—kind, clever. They’d started seeing each other in secret. She lied, saying she was at the library when she raced to his place. Sometimes she claimed sleepovers at a friend’s but spent the night at his flat, bought by his parents.
James pleaded: *Move in with me*. But she couldn’t. Not from fear—but love for her father. Fear of disappointing him. He’d raised her alone; she refused to betray him like her mother had.
But that day… she took the chance. With her dad out fishing, she invited James over. Just to be together. They bought Prosecco, put on a show, curled up on the sofa—then the key turned in the lock.
Benjamin walked in, unprepared. Emily hurried to the hall:
“Dad! You’re back early?”
“Rain. Thunder. Rivers turned to mud. What’ve you been up to?”
“Watching telly,” she lied.
“Right. And why’s there wine on the counter?”
“Fancied a glass,” Emily shrugged.
“Uh-huh. And two glasses. Right then. Fancy company?”
He poured two glasses, smiled faintly, and said:
“Go on, then. Call him in. I’m not daft. Never bought those ‘sleepovers’ or ‘library trips’ till eleven.”
Emily flushed, biting her lip.
“Dad… I didn’t want to upset you. You always said studies come first.”
“You aced your exams. Clearly, you can balance it. Bring him out.”
James stepped forward—nervous but polite. He introduced himself. Benjamin studied him, then turned to Emily. Sighed.
“Alright. Sit down. Let’s have a drink.”
It went smoother than expected. A month later, Emily said:
“Dad… I’m moving in with James.”
“Too soon. You’ve only just started.”
“We love each other. And I’m not a kid. But you’ll always be the most important person to me.”
Benjamin nodded silently. His chest ached—with pride and pain.
His girl had grown up. But she hadn’t turned away. And that’s what mattered.