**Diary Entry**
I was halfway to my mother-in-laws with a freshly baked lasagne when my solicitors call changed everything. Come home NOW, she snapped. What I witnessed that night revealed the darkest sides of the two people closest to me.
I used to think my life was stable. As a finance director at a well-paying firm, I had the independence Id always dreamed ofbills paid, fridge stocked, little luxuries here and there. It felt like I had control, until I uncovered the truth about my husband, William.
That truth shattered the careful life Id built in ways I never expected.
William and I met eight years ago on a hiking trip organised by mutual friends. He was the kind of man who lit up a room without trying. I remember his easy smile making everyone laugh, even as we climbed steep hills. By the weekends end, I was certain Id met one of the most fascinating people in my life.
But we didnt start dating straight away.
For two years, we stayed friendsexchanging messages, meeting for coffee, sharing pieces of our lives. William was always charming, though I noticed his stubborn streak. He insisted everything go his way, whether it was choosing a restaurant or weekend plans. I brushed it off as confidence. No ones perfect, right?
Three years after that hike, we married. I thought we were ready for the next step, though our transition from friendship to romance hadnt been smooth. Yes, he could be pushy, especially about money. He often borrowed small sums, promising to repay me next payday.
Honestly, it didnt bother me. I told myself it was part of building a future.
But marriage revealed another side of Williamone I wasnt prepared for.
Slowly, I realised his mother, Margaret, played too big a role in his life. She was fiercely protective. Often, I felt like I was competing with her for his attention. And William? He always sided with her when conflicts arose. It irritated me how he dismissed my concerns as overreacting.
Once, when I asked why her opinion mattered more than mine, he said, Shes my mum, Emily. Shes been there my whole life. I cant just ignore her.
His words stung. I didnt expect him to justify it, but I convinced myself it wasnt a big deal. Family dynamics are complicated, right?
I kept ignoring it, hoping things would improve. I thought William would grow out of prioritising his mother and learn balance.
But the cracks only widened, and I began doubting if Id been naive about love and partnership.
I wasnt ready for what lay ahead. Fate had a far darker reveal in store.
Looking back, the warning signs were there. William loved luxury but never spent his own money on it. Early on, hed borrow from me, spinning tales about investments or lavish gifts for Margaret. Were building something together, hed say with that disarming smile.
Spoiler: I never saw a penny of those investments again.
Meanwhile, Margaret was another story.
She always made me feel Id never be good enough for her precious son. What grated most was how she found fault in every gift. A few months ago, we bought her a new microwave, thinking shed be pleased.
Its fine, but why isnt it a smart one? she sighed, rolling her eyes.
A luxury spa day William and I treated her to? She called the masseuse dreadful.
No matter how hard I tried, Margaret always had a critique.
Still, I stayed mature. I wanted a good relationship with herfor Williams sake and, yes, my own. I thought kindness might change her mind. But kindness doesnt always win, does it?
Then there was Williams money habit.
His borrowing didnt stop after marriageit worsened. It wasnt just investments anymore. Everything tied back to Margaret. Mum needs a new chair, hed say. Or, Mums birthdays coming upI want to get her something special.
And every time, I gave in.
I told myself it was just money, that compromise was part of commitment. I wanted to believe we were building something, even if it felt like I was the only one contributing.
The night everything changed started normally. Margaret was illor so William claimed.
She hasnt eaten all day, he said, frowning with concern.
That evening, we were supposed to meet our estate agent to finalise buying the house wed rented for five years. It was meant to be our big momenta dream wed worked toward for so long. I couldnt wait to sign the papers and officially call it ours.
But William seemed distracted. As we sat to review the documents, he sighed dramatically.
We need to reschedule, he said. Mums really poorly.
Reschedule? I asked. William, weve waited a year for this. Cant we visit her after?
She hasnt eaten today, Emily, he repeated, his tone sharpening. Ill take care of her. Could you drop off some of your lasagne? You know how much she loves it.
What about the house? I pressed. This has to be done today.
Dont worry, he said, waving me off. Well sort it tomorrow.
Something in his voice felt off, but I pushed the thought aside. He was just worried about his mum, wasnt he?
Despite our tensions, Margaret adored my lasagne. This cheesy masterpiece always earned her rare praise. Maybe making it for her in her time of need would ease things between us. So I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.
As it baked, I couldnt stop thinking of the sacrifices wed made for this houseskipped holidays, overtime, saying no to luxuries. This was meant to be our fresh start.
Legally, the house was in Williams name due to inheritance quirks, but I wasnt worried. In our country, marital assets were split 50/50 in a divorce.
I trusted William, though the arrangement left a small knot in my chest.
Around 6 PM, I got in the car with the still-warm lasagne. William said he had an urgent meeting and couldnt join me.
Twenty minutes into the drive, my phone rang. It was Sarah, my solicitor. She never called after hours unless it was urgent.
Hi, I said. Whats wrong?
Come home NOW, she demanded.
What? Sarah, whats happening?
Its William, she said. Theyre at your house with the estate agent. You need to get back.
Whos they? I asked, already turning the car around.
William and Margaret, she said, her voice hardening. Theyre signing papers to transfer the house into Margarets name.
What?
Just come home now! she cut in, hanging up.
My hands shook so badly I could barely unbuckle my seatbelt when I pulled into the drive.
Inside, the scene was worse than I imagined.
William stood in the living room with papers hed hidden from me. Margaret hovered beside him, looking perfectly healthy. The estate agent, standing awkwardly nearby, seemed to regret everything.
Whats going on? I demanded.
William stepped forward. Love, just listen
No, Sarah interrupted, striding in right behind meshe must have followed once I said I was close. Let me explain, since you clearly cant be honest.
Then, to me:
Theyre transferring the house to Margaret, she said. Your house, Emily. The one you saved for.
I stared at William, unable to process what I was seeing.
Why? My voice was barely a whisper. How could you?
Margaret crossed her arms, lips twisting into a smirk.
Its simple, she said. William was always my son first, and I have to protect his assets. You cant trust just anyone these days.
I said nothing.
But thats not all, Sarah cut in. When the agent flagged this, I did some digging. Margaret planned for William to marry another womanher friends daughter. They were going to push for a divorce, leave you with nothing, and move on like you never existed.
My chest tightened; the room spun.
You planned this with her? I asked William. I trusted you. I gave you everything. Do you even understand what youve done?
Its not like that, William stammered, avoiding my eyes. Mum just thought itd be better
Better for who? I snapped. You? Her? What about me, William? I built this life with you. I sacrificed for this house. For us. And you were ready to erase me!
Emily, I
Enough! I shook my head. You dont deserve forgiveness, let alone me.
Sarah squeezed my shoulder. Dont worry. The house isnt sold yet, and we have proof to fight this
