**Diary Entry 16th October**
The evening was winding down, and in the flat where Emily lived with her husband, James, and his mother, Margaret, things were usually quiet. But today had been off from the start. Little Oliver was fussy, Margaret found fault with everything, and Emily felt utterly drained. Shed tried her bestcooked Margarets favourite meals, kept the flat spotless, tended to Oliverbut pleasing her mother-in-law was impossible.
*”Emily, youve folded the towels wrong again,”* Margaret muttered, passing the bathroom. *”How many times must I say it? Corners inward, not outward!”*
Or:
*”Youve dressed the boy all wrong, Emily! Its chilly out, and youve put him in a thin jumper! Hell catch his death!”*
Emily sighed each time. She never argued, just endured, hoping things would settlethat Margaret would adjust to her, to Oliver, to their life together. James, when it got unbearable, usually stayed silent. If Emily dared complain, hed shrug:
*”Just ignore her, Em. Mums getting on, nerves frayed.”*
Emily had planned a surprise for their wedding anniversary. Shed ordered a small cake, bought James the leather belt hed fancied for ages. A cosy evening, just the three of themOliver included, of course.
On the day, dinner was nearly ready, Oliver thankfully asleep, when Margaret launched another scenethis time over *”over-salted soup”* (though it tasted fine).
*”This is inedible!”* Margaret banged her spoon on the table. *”Are you trying to poison us? Emily, you cant cook to save your life!”*
Emily gripped the ladle, watching their anniversary crumble. She turned to James, who sat staring at his plate. She waitedfor once, just oncefor him to defend her.
He stood and walked out. She followed.
*”Mums right,”* he said, not looking at her. *”You always get things wrong.”*
Emilys eyes burned. The last straw. *”Do you even hear yourself? Its our anniversary! II cooked, I tried! And your mother”*
James turned sharply. No anger in his eyesjust weariness, detachment.
*”Dont like my mum? Then leave.”*
The words were so casual, so ordinary, it took a moment to sink in. As if hed suggested she fetch the milk. Then he walked off. Dinner ruined. Anniversary ruined. Everything ruined.
Emily sat on their bed, holding a sleeping Oliver. Tears dried to salt tracks. Was he serious? This was their home. Their family. Would he really toss them aside so easily? She didnt pack. It couldnt be real. A bad dream, surely.
Days passed. James didnt apologise. He was cold, distantate in silence, shut himself away. Barely spoke to her. Played with Oliver like a chore.
When she tried talking, he brushed her off.
*”Mums hurt. Says you insulted her.”*
*”I insulted her? She screamed at me over soup!”*
*”Doesnt matter,”* he cut in. *”Its on you. Apologise first. Maybe shell forgive you.”*
No reconciliation. Just an ultimatum. And Emily understood: this wasnt her home. She was tolerateduntil she wasnt convenient. Fear gave way to numb clarity. This wasnt a family. It was a one-sided loyalty game. Her duty to James, to Margaret, to their whims. They owed her nothing.
She looked at Oliver. He didnt belong here. Neither did she. This place, this airit was crushing her. Slowly. And James just watched. Pushed her to the edge himself.
—
James met his mate, Thomas, at a pub.
*”Listen, mate, its Emily bit of a mess,”* he started.
Thomas sipped his pint. *”The mother-in-law again?”*
James nodded. *”Mums old, nerves shot. Emilys youngshould adapt. But she wont. Always sulking, always grievances.”*
He was tired of the battles. The bickering, Mums nitpicking, Emilys moods. He wanted peace.
*”I told her straight: dont like my mum? Leave. What else could I say? Mums sacred. Raised me alone. And Emilys never happy.”*
No regret in his voice. Just righteous frustration. He wouldnt take blame. Let Emily leave. Then his conscience would stay clean. Not his fault. Her choice.
*”Let her decide,”* he repeated, convincing himself. *”I want quiet. Come home to silence. No more rows.”*
He saw no fault in himself. Emily was the problemcouldnt get along with his mother. Never mind his inaction, his refusal to stand by his wife. He just wanted the hassle gone. And in his mind, that meant Emily leaving.
—
Next day, Emily rented a small flat nearby. Moved out quietly while James was at work. Just essentialstheir clothes, Olivers toys, a few books. No scenes. No tears.
James came home to an eerily empty flat. No trace of her. A note on the kitchen table:
*”You said itI did it. For your peace.”*
At the bottom, in small print: *”Olivers with me.”*
He read it twice. Shed really gone? Hed assumed shed stay at her mums, sulk, then crawl back. He waited for her call. Days passed. Nothing.
A week later, he rang her.
*”Hi. How are you?”*
*”Fine,”* she said, voice flat. *”Olivers asleep.”*
*”When when are you coming back?”* His voice cracked.
*”Why? You said leave. I left.”*
*”But I didnt mean”*
*”I did,”* she cut in. *”For your peace. And mine. And Olivers.”*
She hung up. James stared at the wall. Hed done this. Not by accident. Not by mistake. Hed pushed her out.
—
Months passed. James lived with Margaret. The flat was silent nowtoo silent. All her nitpicking turned on him.
*”James, sit properly at the table! Youre slouching!”*
*”James, whys the tea there? I said use a coaster!”*
*”James, must you eat so slowly? Ive cleared already!”*
Everything that had grated on Emily now trapped him. No one argued. Just silence and his mothers voice. He woke to it. Came home to it. His own trap.
Hed wanted rid of Emily for peace. And hed got itdead silence and endless dissatisfaction.
Sometimes, he spotted Emily in the park with Oliver. She looked at ease. Free. No shouting, no battles. Shed left, as hed told her to. Taken everything that made his life whole.
He was master of his house. But it held no love, no joy, no warmth. Just silence and someone elses rule. And thisthis was his punishment. Daily.
**Lesson learned too late: some peace isnt worth the cost.**
