*Diary Entry*
The knock at my son’s front door was quick and eager. Margaret Whitmore stood there, her heart brimming with joy, clutching a stack of photos from her youngest daughter’s lavish wedding that weekend. When the door swung open, her daughter-in-law, Emily, greeted her—eyes red, face drawn. “Oh, it’s you. Come in,” she muttered coldly. Margaret’s stomach twisted. “Emily, love, what’s happened?” she asked cautiously, stepping inside. “Happened? Your son and I are getting a divorce!” Emily’s voice trembled with hurt. “Divorce? Why?” Margaret gasped. “You really don’t know what he’s done?” Emily’s laugh was bitter. “No! What did he do?” Margaret stared, her pulse quickening.
Two months earlier, in a cosy town near the River Thames, Emily had clashed with her husband’s sister, Sophie. “A wedding’s a once-in-a-lifetime event! Why skimp on it?” Sophie huffed when Emily and her brother, James, opted for a small registry office ceremony and dinner. “Seems a waste of money,” Emily shrugged. “We’d rather save for a house deposit or a holiday.” “So you *have* the money but just refuse to spend it?” Sophie pressed. Emily’s silence was answer enough.
They kept it simple—just twelve guests at Emily’s parents’ place in the countryside, her folks handling the catering. The table groaned with homemade dishes. Then, during the toasts, Sophie stood, glass shaking. “Congrats to the happy couple! But I’ve news—Oliver and I are engaged!” The room erupted. Emily’s smile froze. Sophie beamed, boasting about her upcoming grand wedding—”the talk of all London!”
The bitterness lingered. Later, Emily snapped at James, “Was that necessary? Rub it in that we didn’t splash out?” “Forget it,” he soothed. “We’ve saved a fortune. Let’s book a holiday.” “Spain, maybe?” she perked up. “We’ll decide tomorrow,” James hedged.
Weeks later, Sophie handed them an invitation. “I’m not going,” Emily grumbled. “Fine, we won’t,” James agreed. “Let’s go to Spain instead. After her stunt, I can’t face her.” James tensed, sweating. “We’ll go later. I can’t miss Sophie’s wedding.” “Then why pretend?” Emily recoiled.
Reluctantly, she attended. The extravagance was staggering—a Bentley, a five-star banquet, fireworks. “This dress must’ve cost thousands,” Emily muttered. “All for one day?” James mumbled something—she couldn’t tell if it was admiration or guilt.
The next morning, Emily chirped, “Found cheap flights! Let’s book Spain!” James paled. “We—we can’t. The money’s gone.” “Gone?” She laughed. “We’ve £30,000 saved!” “I lent it to Sophie,” he blurted, avoiding her eyes. “She’ll pay it back—in instalments.” “You *what*?” Emily’s voice cracked. “Without asking? That was *our* money!” “She begged,” James stammered. “I’ll get it—” “I need it *now*!”
Just then, Margaret knocked, clutching wedding photos. “Did you know your son funded Sophie’s wedding?” Emily seethed. “Of course,” Margaret said smoothly. “What are brothers for?” “Unbelievable! We skipped our dream day to save, and he handed it all to *her*!” Emily turned on James. “You *betrayed* me!” “Making a scene over money?” Margaret scoffed. Emily’s fists clenched. “Half that cash was *mine*. Return it by Friday, or I’ll sue.” She stormed out, leaving them stunned.
“Ungrateful witch!” Margaret spat. But Emily wasn’t bluffing. She filed for divorce and court-ordered repayment—and won.
With her share, she flew to Spain. There, under golden sun and lapping waves, she met someone new. Returning to London, her heart was lighter—finally free, finally hopeful.
**Lesson:** Trust is the foundation of marriage. Break it, and love won’t save you from the fallout.
