**Diary Entry**
When my husband came back from his mothers house yesterday, he sighed and suggested we get a paternity test for our two-year-old daughter. Not for me, he muttered. For Mum
For six months before our wedding, shed been drilling it into him: Dont marry her, shes not right for you! My voice still shakes with anger just thinking about it. Too prettyshell cheat on you! We used to laugh it off, joking that Oliver shouldve picked a crocodile instead if he wanted to avoid betrayal. But now? Theres nothing funny about it.
Ive never thought of myself as stunningjust an ordinary young woman from a Manchester suburb, well put-together like most. Slim, neat hair, simple clothes. Ive always had standards in love and self-respect. Why my mother-in-law, Margaret, decided I was some flighty temptress is beyond me. But shes turned my life into a nightmare.
Weve been married four years, have a little girl, and Im on maternity leave. My days are all nappies, cooking, and cleaning. The only people I see? Other mums at the park. But Margaret wont let up. Shes convinced Im cheating, watching me like some bargain-bin TV detective.
Shes always been like this, I sigh, blinking back tears. Calling to check up, dropping by unannounced, trying to track my every move. At first, Oliver and I laughed about it. But its exhausting. Ive snapped at her so many times. Shed back off then come back worse.
The first real scandal happened a few months after the wedding. Margaret showed up at my office out of the blueno warning, no reason. Just to see: Does she *actually* work here, or is she lying to my son while running off with lovers?
I dont even know how she got past security! I still fume. Visitors have to sign in. I nearly collapsed when the receptionist brought her over: Someone here to see you. I gaped. Margaret, what are you doing here? She just shrugged. Wanted to see where you work. While scanning the room like a bloody spy! Our office is open-plan, everyone at their desks. God help me if Id had a private office
Later, the receptionist, Emily, told me Margaret had grilled her. How long have you worked here? Does she arrive on time? Who does she talk to? Emily frowned. I told her you were *married*. I was livid. That night, I exploded at Oliver: Your mums crossed a line! Sort her outthis is madness! Shed have checked under my desk for a secret lover if she could!
Oliver *seemed* to have a firm talk with her. Things settledfor a while. Shed call in the evenings, ask about our day, even send over cakes. I dared to hope the storm had passed. I was wrong.
The next disaster struck during my pregnancy. I was home on leave, phone off, napping when a racket jolted me awakebanging on the door, the bell ringing nonstop. I nearly had a heart attack! I remember telling Oliver later. Looked through the peephole*Margaret.* Face twisted, hammering like a madwoman. I was too scared to open up. Called Oliver in a panic. He got there in twenty minutes. She just stood there, waiting.
We screamed at her. I threatened to call the police or a mental health team if she ever did it again. Keep her away from me! I demanded. And for a while it worked.
When our daughter was born, Margaret refused to even meet her. Why? Because Olivers family only has boys. A girl, in her mind, was proof of infidelity. I didnt even entertain that rubbish, I told Oliver. Im done with her. He sees her once a month nowalone. Fine by me. Id never trust her with my child.
But the worst came later. Last night, Oliver came home from his mums, looking grim, and brought up the paternity test. Not for me, Charlotte, he stammered. Its for Mum. Just to shut her up! Shes driving me mad with this
I let out a bitter laugh. For *her*? My voice trembled. Or do you believe her? Shell never stop. Even with three tests, shed say we faked them! I wont play her game. Full stop.
Its just a test he pressed.
*Why?* I stared him down, tears burning. *I* know who my daughters father is. Do you? If you need it, fine. But first, we divorce. I wont stay with a man who doesnt trust me.
The words hung there, sharp as a blade. That trust between us? Crackedpoisoned by his mother. Right now, I feel like were teetering on the edge, and I dont know how to pull us back from this madness.
