**Diary Entry**
One evening, my husband returned from his mothers house, sighed deeply, and suggested we get a paternity test for our two-year-old daughter. Not for me, he said quickly. For my mother.
It wasnt the first time. Months before our wedding, his mother had constantly warned him, Dont marry hershes not good enough for you! recalls Emily, a thirty-year-old with a tremor of hurt in her voice. Shed say, Shes too prettyshell run around on you! Back then, we laughed it off. James would joke that maybe he shouldve married a plain Jane instead, just to avoid confusion. But now? Theres no laughter left. None at all.
Emily doesnt see herself as some striking beauty. Just an ordinary girl from the outskirts of Manchester, she takes care of herself like anyone else. Slim, well-groomed, modestly dressedshes always been particular about relationships and demanded respect. Why her mother-in-law, Mrs. Whitmore, decided she was flighty and unfaithful remains a mystery. But that woman has turned her life into a nightmare.
Married four years, they have a daughter. Emilys on maternity leave, her days an endless cycle of cooking, cleaning, and nappy changes. The only people she talks to are other mums at the playground. But her mother-in-law wont rest. Convinced Emilys cheating, she watches her like a detective from a cheap soap opera.
Shes always spied on me, Emily sighs, eyes brimming with tears. Phoning constantly, dropping by unannounced, trying to track my every move. At first, I brushed it offtold James, and wed laugh. But its exhausting. Ive lost my temper more than once. Weve had ugly rows. Shed calm down briefly, then start again, worse than before.
The first real scandal happened months after the wedding. Mrs. Whitmore showed up uninvited at Emilys office. No warning, no reason. She just needed to confirmwas her daughter-in-law really working there? Or was she lying to James, sneaking off with lovers instead?
I dont even know how she got past reception! Emily recalls, voice shaking with indignation. The building has securityvisitors need appointments. I nearly fainted when the assistant led her over: Youve got a visitor. I said, Mrs. Whitmore, what are you doing here? She just replied, I wanted to see where you work. And she looked around like a hawk! The office is open-planeveryone at their desks, nothing hidden. God knows what shed have done if I had a private office.
Later, the assistant, Sophie, admitted Mrs. Whitmore had grilled her. How long had Emily worked there? Was she ever late? Who did she talk to? Was there someone special in the office? She kept saying, Shes married, you know! Sophie added, bewildered. Emily was livid. That night, she confronted James: Your mothers crossed a line! Talk to herthis isnt normal! She didnt check under the desk for a lover, but whos to say she wouldnt have?
James seemed to have a firm word with her. There was a truce. Mrs. Whitmore called only in the evenings, asked how they were, sent homemade cakes. Emily dared to hope the storm had passed. She was wrong.
The next outburst came when Emily was pregnant but still working. Home sick one day, phone off, she was asleep when violent pounding shook the front doorthe doorbell ringing nonstop. I jumped up, thinking it was an emergency! she remembers. Peeked through the peepholeand there she was. Face like thunder, kicking the door, jamming the bell. I was terrified. Called James: Get home nowI dont know whats happening! He made it in twenty minutes. She waited the whole time, glaring at the door.
They both scolded Mrs. Whitmore. Emily threatened to call the police and a psychiatrist if it ever happened again. Keep her away from me! she demanded. And again, there was quiet.
When their daughter was born, Mrs. Whitmore barely glanced at the baby. Later, the reason became clear. She didnt believe the child was Jamess. Of coursesince Im supposedly running wild, how could she be his? Emily laughs bitterly. The logic? In Jamess family, only boys were born. A girl, to Mrs. Whitmore, was proof of betrayal. I ignored the madness, Emily says. I dont speak to her. James visits once a month, but not with us. Maybe its better this way. Id never trust her with my child.
But the worst was yet to come. Until, one afternoon, James came home from his mothers, took a deep breath, and hesitantly suggested the paternity test. Not for me, Emilyyou know that! he insisted, waving his hands. I dont doubt you. Its for her! I just want her to drop this, once and for all. Shes lost it, and Im fed up with hearing it!
Emily laugheda sharp, joyless sound. For her? she repeated, voice trembling with fury. Just admit you believe her. You know shell never stop. We could do three tests at different clinics, and shed claim the doctors were bribed! I wont play her game. It ends here.
Its just a test, James pressed.
Why bother? Emily stared at him, holding back tears. I know who her father is. Do you? If you need proof, fine. But first, we file for divorce. I wont live with a man who doesnt trust me.
Her words hung in the air like a verdict. The trust between them was cracking, all because of a mother-in-law whose poison had seeped into their lives. Emily feels teetering on the edge, unsure how to pull her family back from the brink.
