**Diary Entry 18th October**
Its been a strange few monthsever since Mum moved in, its like my wife, Emily, has become a stranger in our own home. This morning started the same as every other: a sharp rap on the bedroom door.
*”Still lazing about, are we?”* Mums voice cut through the quiet. *”Edward, love, youll be late for work!”*
Emily sighed beside me. Mum barely acknowledged her, speaking only to me as if Emily werent even there. I rubbed my eyes and dragged myself out of bed.
*”Whatve you packed him for lunch?”* Mum was already in the kitchen, rifling through the fridge. *”More of those fancy salads? A man needs a proper roast dinner!”*
*”The one I made yesterday,”* Emily thought but didnt say. Three months of marriage had taught her to swallow her words like bitter medicine.
*”Mum, leave it,”* I muttered, fumbling with my tie.
*”Leave it? Im looking out for you!”* Mum huffed. *”And her”* She shot Emily a withering glance, *”cant even cook a decent meal.”*
Emilys throat tightened. Ten years lecturing at Cambridge, a PhD, and here she was, reduced to silence in her own house.
*”Maybe thats enough,”* she whispered, surprising even herself.
Mum spun round. *”Enough? Did you say something, dear?”* The way she said *dear* made Emily flinch. I pretended to search for my briefcase.
*”Im saying maybe stop acting like I dont exist,”* Emily said, firmer now. *”This is our home, Edwardyours and mine.”*
Mum laughed. *”Yours? Love, I bought this house thirty years ago! Every brick is mine. Youyoure just passing through.”*
The words stung worse than a slap. Emily looked to me for backup, but I was already halfway out the door, coat in hand.
*”Running late!”* I called, slamming it shut behind me.
In the quiet that followed, Mums smug chuckle was unmistakable. She started clattering clean dishes into the sink, each movement dripping with disdain.
*”By the way,”* she added, *”the ladies from bridge club are coming round. Make sure the sitting rooms spotless. Last time, there was dust on the mantel.”*
Emily left without a word. Upstairs, in our bedroomthe one place Mum hadnt claimedshe dialled her old friend Charlotte.
*”You were right,”* she whispered. *”I cant do this anymore.”*
*”About time!”* Charlotte said. *”Watching you fade away for months has been agony. Remember that flat I mentioned?”*
*”Is it still available?”*
*”I held it for you. Come see it today.”*
All afternoon, Emily went through the motions, but her mind was elsewhere. By evening, as Mum held court with her bridge club, Emily slipped out.
*”Where are you off to?”* Mum called.
*”The shops,”* Emily said evenly. *”For your dinner.”*
*”Dont dawdle!”*
The flat was small but brightcream walls, a bay window, blissful quiet.
*”Ill take it,”* Emily said, handing over her ID. *”When can I move in?”*
*”Straight away,”* the agent smiled. *”Just sign here.”*
Back home, the bridge clubs chatter carried from the sitting room.
*”Shes not right for Edward,”* Mum was saying. *”Cant cook, cant keep house. All she knows is books.”*
*”Modern girls,”* her friend Marjorie tutted. *”All degrees, no sense.”*
Emily stood frozen in the hall, groceries heavy in her arms. But for the first time, the barbs didnt pierce. Shed made her choice.
Next morning, she woke early and laid out breakfast before Mum could take over. I was scrolling through my phone when she spoke.
*”We need to talk.”*
*”Later, loveIm in a rush.”*
*”No. Now.”*
Something in her voice made me look up. The Emily Id marriedbright, livelywas gone. In her place was someone weary, resolved.
*”I wont live like this anymore,”* she said. *”This isnt a marriage. Its a farce where I play the silent servant.”*
*”Emily, dont be dramatic”*
*”Dramatic?”* She cut me off. *”Letting your mother dictate our lives isnt dramatic? Watching her belittle me while you look the other way?”*
*”Shes just set in her ways”*
*”No, Edward. Shes a tyrant. And youve let her choose between us every single day.”*
Mum swept in then, robe swishing. *”Edward, youll be late! Whats all this whispering?”*
Emily turned to her. *”Still cant help yourself, can you?”*
Mums face purpled. *”Edward, do you hear how she speaks to me?”*
But Emily was done. She pulled a folder from her bag and set it on the table.
*”Three months of notes. Every insult, every snide remark. Dates, witnesses. Even recordings of your little chats with Marjorie.”*
Mum went pale. I stared between them, lost.
*”Youyou recorded me?”* Mum gasped.
*”I protected myself,”* Emily said. She tossed down a set of keys. *”These are for my new flat. Im leaving today.”*
*”You cant!”* I shot up. *”Were family!”*
*”Are we?”* Emilys smile was bitter. *”Families dont destroy each other.”*
*”See!”* Mum crowed. *”I told you shed walk out! These modern girls”*
*”Enough!”* Emilys voice rang out, sharp as glass. *”You gave me no choice. I cooked, cleaned, bit my tonguefor what? You dont want a daughter-in-law. You want a maid.”*
She turned to me.
*”And youhiding behind work, pretending not to see. A man whos scared of his mother isnt a husband.”*
Silence. Then Mum clutched her chest with a gasp.
*”Edwardmy pills! Im having palpitations!”*
I moved to help, but Emily caught my arm.
*”Look at me,”* she said. *”Really look.”*
In her eyes: exhaustion, resolve. In mine: fear, confusion.
*”This is your choice,”* she said. *”Not between me and your motherbetween being a child or a man.”*
*”Shes ill!”* I protested.
*”Is she?”* Emily turned to Mum. *”Shall we call an ambulance? Let the doctors check.”*
Mum sat up straight, scowling. *”No need! Just get out, you ungrateful girl!”*
*”See?”* Emily said softly. *”The same act, every time. And you fall for it.”*
She handed me a card. *”My new address. When youre ready to be an adult, come alone. No chaperones.”*
—
The first week in her flat, Emily ignored my calls. Mum swung between threats and weepy pleas. Then, one evening, I showed up at her doorunshaven, hollow-eyed.
*”Can I come in?”*
She stepped aside. I slumped at her kitchen table.
*”I understand now,”* I said. *”Maybe too late.”*
*”Understand what?”*
*”That Ive never lived my own life. Let Mum pick my clothes, my job even my wife.”*
*”And?”*
*”I bought her a flat. She raged, threatened to cut me off”*
*”And?”*
*”For the first time, I didnt back down. And dyou know what? She gave up. Just like that. All those attacksjust theatre.”*
Emily studied me. *”You think moving her out fixes everything?”*
*”Doesnt it?”*
She shook her head. *”The problem isnt your mother, Edward. Its that for three months, you watched her tear me apart and did nothing.”*
A pause. Then: *”Remember our first date? That tiny bookshop in Bloomsbury? You said you loved how independent I was. Then you let her smother it.”*
*”I didnt mean”*
*”You never do,”* she said. *”You just drift.”*
I reached for her. *”Can I
