**Diary Entry**
I suppose I was just convenient. Until they needed me, I was forgotten.
Oliver arrived at his mother-in-law’s to collect his wife after yet another “little disagreement.” He parked his car outside the old concrete tower block, straightened his collar, and walked toward the entrance. Just as he reached the door, movement from a first-floor window caught his eye. His heart lurched.
“Mum? What are you doing here?” he asked, recognising his mother, Margaret.
“Quiet,” she whispered, motioning him closer. “Just come here.”
“What’s going on?” Oliver frowned.
“Listen,” she murmured, pointing to the slightly open window.
From inside his mother-in-law’s flat, raised voices carried easily—his wife, Emily, and her mum, speaking without restraint.
“Mum, you should’ve seen their faces! Especially her, all weepy and guilty—‘I’m sorry, I should’ve watched the grandchild!’” Emily burst into laughter. “Right on schedule. And my Oliver—such a gift. The slightest drama, and he comes running like a loyal little dog. Even rushed me to hospital. I knew if I didn’t trap him with that ‘pregnancy’ nonsense, he’d never propose.”
“Emily… that’s cruel,” her mother said hesitantly.
“Oh, Mum, you don’t get it. The flat’s the real prize—three bedrooms, right in the city centre. I’ve already convinced them we should move in together now that the ‘baby’ is coming. After that, we’ll nudge the old folks out. The best part? Oliver will swallow it all. He’s not the type to make a scene. Just guide him gently—exactly how I need.”
Oliver stood frozen, as if his heart had been torn clean out of his chest. Every word struck like a blade. His mother gripped his hand tightly.
“You heard?” she whispered.
He nodded, his face ashen.
“Let’s go.”
They went upstairs. Oliver jabbed the doorbell. Emily answered, all smiles—still basking in her own treachery.
“Darling! You’re early?” she said, her grin strained.
“Save the act. You can collect your things tomorrow,” Oliver said coolly. “I’m filing for divorce.”
“What?! Have you lost your mind? Why?”
“Because I heard everything. The fake pregnancy. The flat. How ‘convenient’ I am. Thanks for showing your true colours so quickly.”
Emily opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Margaret just glanced at her former daughter-in-law. “I blamed myself, you know. Thought I hadn’t tried hard enough to accept you. Turns out—a mother’s instinct was right. I just didn’t want to see it.”
They left without another word. Oliver didn’t look back. His chest felt lighter, as though an unbearable weight had finally lifted. He walked in silence—and for once, so did his mother. No lectures, no comments. Just her hand clasping his, steady and silent. Sometimes, silence speaks louder than words ever could.
