**WHY DID WE NEED DIANA?**
*”So, what do you think of William’s girl? Pretty, isn’t she?”* I couldn’t wait to hear my best friend’s opinion.
*”Agreed, Diana *is* pretty—lovely, even. But your William will leave her,”* my friend said, surprising me.
…My son, Will, had dropped Lizzie for Diana without a second thought. I’d adored Lizzie—wedding bells had practically been ringing. Will and Lizzie had been together for five years. In my mind, she was already part of our family, my son’s future wife. And then, out of nowhere, this Diana appeared. Will went mad for her.
*”Mum, Diana and I are moving in together. Could we have one of the spare rooms?”* It wasn’t a question—it was a statement.
*”What? Are you married? Who *is* this Diana to you? I won’t have some floozy under my roof!”* I was furious.
*”Fine. We’ll rent a flat. No problem. And for the record, Diana *isn’t* a floozy—she’s a decent woman,”* Will replied, calm and firm.
…He moved out. We didn’t argue, but things grew distant. I waited, convinced he’d come to his senses and return to Lizzie. No such luck.
Lizzie was forgotten. Diana had him body and soul. Slowly, I softened and invited them over. Diana was capable—practical, resourceful. Most importantly, she loved Will. You could see it in her eyes, her touches, her words. Still, her constant fawning over me felt insincere. But I bit my tongue. If my son was happy, that was enough. My husband and I bought them a flat, furnished it.
*”Live well, both of you. And don’t wait too long for grandchildren—we aren’t getting any younger.”* My husband handed Will the keys.
…Once, they had a blazing row. Diana packed her things and left. I’ll admit—I was smug. Surely now he’d crawl back to Lizzie. But no. Will turned up at Diana’s friend’s flat daily, flowers in hand, begging her to return. She caved, of course.
…They lived together for eight years. I’d grown used to Diana. She was three years older than Will—thirty-five, past time to marry. I suspected a proposal was coming.
Then Will announced: *”Mum, Dad—we’re getting married. Proper big wedding!”*
They went hiking in the Lake District. On a peak, Will dropped to one knee and proposed. Diana burst into tears.
*”Took you long enough, William! I’d given up hope. Yes, of course!”*
He slipped a ring on her finger and showered her with petals. Romantic.
Truth was, they both earned well. Yet Diana *never* had money. Where it went, no one knew. Will clothed her, fed her, gifted her diamond rings and necklaces. He believed her earnings were hers alone—his were shared. He never asked for an account.
…After the holiday, they filed for a wedding date and began planning. Invitations sent, venue booked. Then Will turned up, grim.
*”We’re postponing.”*
*”Why?”*
*”Later. Don’t ask.”* He left quickly.
Turns out, Diana had “work trouble”—a huge sum owed, or else penalties. Will paid it. The wedding was delayed. I said nothing, uneasy.
…The wedding *did* happen. Magical. But barely a month later, Will came to us.
*”Mum, I need a loan. I’ll pay it back in a year.”*
*”William, what’s wrong?”*
*”Please. Don’t ask.”*
We gave him the money. No need to repay. I think he cried.
…Then debt collectors started calling. Banks. Will sold furniture, electronics. His flat was empty except for a camp bed.
*”Mum, I’m done. I’m divorcing her. Diana’s gone. I met her *first* husband—same story. Lies. She’s got twenty loans. I sold everything, but it’s not enough. She *lied*. And… she can’t have children. You’d *never* have had grandkids. But I loved her. She was my everything. Now…”* His voice broke.
*”Some people thrive on chaos. Diana’s one of them. You’ll heal. Tough now, but life goes on. Be strong.”* I wanted to sob.
My friend’s words echoed: *”William will leave her.”* And he did. Barely a year married.
I didn’t press him. He was hurting. Over time, he renovated the flat—scrubbing Diana from his life.
…Then spring came. Will visited, grinning.
*”Ready to spoil a granddaughter?”*
*”Always! Explain, please?”*
He stepped onto the balcony, waving at someone.
A blushing young woman walked in.
*”Mum, Dad—this is my Verity.”*
She was expecting.
…Our granddaughter Annie is in Year 2 now. Verity’s due with a son soon.
*”Mum, why didn’t I meet Verity sooner? Why did I need Diana?”*
*”So you’d learn to cherish Verity. Treasure her.”*
