**Betrayal in the New Home**
Oliver and Emily married and moved into a new flat on the outskirts of Brighton. They were full of joy—decorating, making it cosy, dreaming of their future. But six months later, Oliver’s parents came to visit. At first, they seemed surprised to see Emily there. Then, over dinner, after a few glasses of wine, an argument erupted.
“Why have you brought this girl here?” Oliver’s mother snapped.
“What do you mean? I’m his wife!” Emily shot back, her face flushing with anger.
“Wife?” His mother laughed, sharp and mocking. “Don’t be absurd! Oliver already has a wife—and two children. Our grandchildren! And who are *you*? Just after the flat, are you?”
Emily looked at Oliver, but he just lowered his eyes and muttered, “Go to your mum’s. I’ll sort this out. I’ll send them away in the morning.”
When Emily turned eighteen, her mother started talking about marriage. She didn’t push, but she worried—Emily spent too much time at home with her books. She wasn’t unsociable—at school and uni, she was known for being lively—yet she turned down every boy who showed interest. She preferred getting lost in a novel to going on dates. Her mother feared she’d end up alone.
Emily graduated, got a job as an office manager, but life stayed the same—home, work, home. So her parents decided it was time she lived on her own. They’d bought her a three-bedroom flat in an older building years ago and had been renting it out. After redecorating, they handed her the keys, gently nudging her out of their home.
She felt betrayed. How could they just send her away? But life forced her to adapt. She hated cleaning the big flat and grocery shopping—until Oliver came along. He took over the chores, and that won her heart.
When she introduced him to her parents, her mother frowned. She’d wanted a university-educated man with his own home for her daughter. Oliver was a mechanic who rented a room nearby. Her father just said, “We’ll see.”
But Oliver loved Emily, and that was enough. They had a small wedding—just her parents. His, from a distant village in Cornwall, didn’t come. The couple planned to visit them, but life kept getting in the way.
A year later, they started thinking about children. Oliver suggested selling her old walk-up flat and buying a new one on the outskirts. “What if we have a baby and a pram to haul up five flights?” he reasoned.
Emily agreed, though her mother objected. On the day of signing, Oliver ended up in hospital with appendicitis. Emily had to handle the paperwork alone, bringing her mother along out of habit—used to someone always stepping in.
When Oliver came home, it was to their new flat. They happily arranged furniture, hung curtains—life felt like a dream. Until his parents arrived.
Dinner turned into accusations. Stunned, Emily couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Oliver stayed silent, just telling her to leave. She packed a bag and went to her mum’s, her heart shattered.
The next day, she returned. His parents were gone; the flat was spotless.
“What was your mother talking about yesterday?” Emily asked, fighting tears.
“Don’t worry about it. I had a wife, two kids. But now I’m with you,” Oliver said dismissively.
“You *lied* to me! That’s betrayal!” Emily screamed. “I can’t live with a liar!”
“Then go. The flat stays with me. Take me to court, and I’ll pay your share for the rest of my life,” he smirked.
“*You’re* leaving,” Emily said coldly. “Mum insisted the flat be in my name. She had a feeling.”
Alone in the spacious flat, Emily spent her evenings with books again—but they brought no comfort. Her heart ached from the betrayal. She’d loved Oliver, trusted him… and he’d hidden another family.
Her mother visited, comforting her. “Darling, I told you he wasn’t right. But you’re not alone—I’m here.”
Emily nodded, but the emptiness lingered. She didn’t file for divorce—let *him* do it. The flat, bought by her parents, was now her fortress… and a reminder of broken dreams. Oliver called, apologised—she never answered.
Sometimes, flipping through a novel, she imagined how life might’ve been without the lies. But reality was harsh: alone again, with her books and a heart in pieces.
**Lesson learned: Trust is the foundation of love—without it, even the cosiest home becomes a cage.**
