**Diary Entry – 12th October**
Tonight, I discovered my husband’s betrayal from his own brother.
Charlotte raced through the bustling streets of Manchester, gripping the steering wheel until her fingers ached. Her heart pounded with fury—neighbours had complained again about her brother-in-law, who’d turned her inheritance into a den of chaos. But what she found inside the flat was worse than she’d imagined. Harry, her husband’s brother, revealed the ugly truth about Edward’s infidelity, shattering her world. Now, she stood torn between forgiveness or starting anew.
*”Lottie, he’s family—where else would he go?”* Edward had pleaded months ago when this mess began. *”He’s divorced from Margaret. Should he crawl back to his parents?”*
*”I don’t want him in Gran’s flat,”* Charlotte had muttered weakly.
*”He won’t wreck the place,”* Edward insisted, flashing that persuasive smile. *”A bloke his age can’t live with Mum and Dad. He’s got his own life!”*
Reluctantly, she’d agreed—on one condition. *”If the neighbours complain, he’s out.”*
*”Done!”* Edward had grinned, rubbing his hands.
But Edward had plans of his own. Under the guise of helping Harry, he used the flat for rendezvous with his mistress—something Charlotte, at thirty-five, never saw coming.
*”I’ll drive Harry over now,”* Edward had announced, snatching the keys and darting out.
*”In such a hurry, you’d think it’s *him* moving in,”* Charlotte had scoffed, busying herself with chores.
When Edward returned three hours later, she met him outside. *”Where were you? I nearly sent out a search party!”* she joked.
*”Just showing Harry the place,”* he mumbled, avoiding her eyes.
*”At least tell me he’ll cover utilities?”*
Edward hesitated. *”Can’t charge family, love. Not when he’s down on his luck.”*
She relented—but the moment Harry moved in, the flat descended into madness. Raucous parties, strange women, shouting matches. The neighbours called the police, but fines did nothing to curb the chaos.
Harry complained to Edward. *”Nosy sods keep calling the law on us. Sort it out, or neither of us will be welcome here.”*
*”Keep it down, then!”* Edward snapped. *”If Charlotte finds out, we’re done for.”*
Harry promised—yet that very night, the police were back.
One neighbour, fed up, tracked Charlotte down online. *”Do you *know* what’s happening at your flat?”*
Horrified, Charlotte stormed into the property, fury burning in her chest.
*”Alright, love?”* Harry smirked as he opened the door.
*”You’re *out*,”* she spat. *”The neighbours are revolting!”*
*”*Me*? Bit rich,”* he sneered. *”Ask your husband where *he* spends his time.”*
Her stomach dropped. *”What?”*
*”Edward’s been bringing his bit on the side ‘round for months,”* Harry crowed. *”And you had no clue!”*
The words hit like a sledgehammer. She pointed to the door. *”Get. Out.”*
Harry chuckled as he packed his things. Twenty minutes later, he was gone.
Alone in the wreckage, Charlotte barely recognised Gran’s flat. Stained walls, reeking of smoke, every shred of comfort obliterated. She threw open the windows, as if that could cleanse the betrayal.
Confronting Edward, she watched him crumble from denial to desperate begging. But his pleas fell on deaf ears. The lies, the callousness—it was over. She filed for divorce and demanded maintenance, refusing to let anyone trample her dignity again.
Now, sitting in the empty flat, tears streamed down her face. Not just from heartbreak, but resolve. The illusions were gone, but in their place: strength.
Some lessons come with a price—but they’re worth every penny.
