**Diary Entry 12th June, 2024**
*”You knew he was weak,”* my mother-in-law whispered as he left the room.
*”I dont see the point in buying so much meat,”* grumbled Margaret, inspecting the fridge. *”Half this amount would do for three adults.”*
Emma silently continued chopping onions for the salad. Tears rolled down her cheeksnot from the onions, but from the daily remarks about how she ran the household.
*”And these potatoes are all soft,”* the older woman went on. *”Where do you even shop? Some corner shop?”*
*”At the market, Margaret,”* Emma replied quietly. *”Same as always.”*
*”Right, right. And what good does that do? Money down the drain.”*
Emma set the knife down and took a deep breath. Five years of marriage, and every day the samecriticism, dissatisfaction, complaints. And her husband, James, stayed silent, pretending not to hear.
*”James, lunch is ready!”* she called toward the living room, where he lounged on the sofa with his phone.
*”Be there in a minute,”* he muttered, eyes still glued to the screen.
*”What do you mean, a minute?”* Margaret huffed. *”The foods getting cold, and hes playing with his gadgets. James, come to the table now!”*
Obediently, he set his phone aside and trudged into the kitchen, taking his usual seat beside his mother, opposite Emma.
*”Whats for lunch?”* he asked, unfolding his napkin.
*”Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding,”* Emma said, serving the plates.
*”Roast beef again?”* Margaret wrinkled her nose. *”Gives me indigestion. Emma, you know rich food doesnt agree with me.”*
*”You could skip the gravy,”* Emma suggested. *”I didnt make it too heavy.”*
*”Hardly matters. Still too rich. And why so many carrots? You know they give James heartburn.”*
Emma glanced at her husband, waiting for him to say something. But James just spooned his food silently, as if the conversation had nothing to do with him.
*”Next time, Ill just make plain chicken broth,”* Emma surrendered.
*”Thats more like it. No need for all these fancy dishes. Back in my day, simple food was good enoughand healthier too.”*
Lunch passed in tense silence. Margaret picked apart every dish, James nodded along, and Emma counted the minutes until it was over.
Later, as Emma cleared the table, James tried to slip back to the sofa. She stopped him.
*”James, we need to talk.”*
*”About what?”* he sighed, lingering in the doorway.
*”Your mother. I cant live like this anymore.”*
*”Whats the problem? Mum doesnt mean any harm.”*
Emma nearly dropped a plate in disbelief.
*”No harm? James, she criticises everything I docooking, cleaning, shopping. I feel like a servant in my own home!”*
*”Shes just used to being in charge. Ran her own house for years.”*
*”Her house? Then what am I? A temporary lodger?”*
James rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
*”Em, dont overreact. Shes set in her ways. Give her time.”*
*”Five years, James. Five years Ive waited. And she only gets worse.”*
*”What do you want me to do? Throw my own mother out?”*
*”I want you to stand up to her. Tell her this is my homeyour wifes home.”*
James shook his head.
*”I cant talk to her like that. She raised me.”*
*”And what am I? A stranger? Were family!”*
*”Of course we are. But Ive only got one mother.”*
The words cut deep. Every time, it came down to thishis mother mattered more.
*”Fine,”* Emma said, forcing back tears. *”Understood.”*
*”Em, dont be like that. You have to be patient with older people.”*
He reached to pat her shoulder. She stepped away.
*”Go to your mother. Shes probably missed you.”*
He hesitated, then left. Emma was alone againwith the dishes, and the weight of her thoughts.
Shed met James at university. Hed seemed steady, kindunlike her exes, all loud and quick-tempered. James never raised his voice, always polite. Too soft, maybe, but shed thought that a relief after the shouting matches of her childhood.
Margaret had seemed pleasant enough at the weddingstrict, but warm. Said shed always wanted a daughter-in-law to love as her own.
The trouble started when they rented a flat near Margarets. She began dropping by dailyfor sugar, for salt, for a *”quick chat.”* And always, the critiques.
*”Emma, whys the floor so dull? Youre using the wrong polish.”*
*”The bedroom smells musty. Open the windows more.”*
Emma tried ignoring it. Then James lost his job. Money grew tight, and Margaret *”generously”* offered them her spare room. *”Just until youre back on your feet.”*
Three years later, they were still there. James had a low-paying job, but moving out was impossible. And Margaret no longer hid her opinion: Emma wasnt good enough.
*”My friend Judiths daughter-in-law is different,”* shed say. *”Thrifty, organised. Home like a magazine. And respects her husband.”*
The message was clear: Emma didnt respect James if she dared disagree.
That night, Emma tried talking to James again.
*”James, your mother discussed our marriage with a stranger today. Said youre weak. Said I dont respect you.”*
*”She didnt mean it like that. Just womens talk.”*
*”Its my life, James! I wont be gossiped about!”*
*”Then Ill talk to her tomorrow,”* he saidbut his eyes were already on the telly.
Morning came. Margaret was at the table, sipping tea.
*”We need to talk,”* Emma said.
*”About?”*
*”You told your friend Judith things about us. Private things.”*
Margaret set her cup down. *”Judiths like family. And its true, isnt it? My boys too soft. Lets you walk over him.”*
*”He trusts me!”*
*”A man should lead his household. Not hide behind his wifes skirts.”*
The words burned. Emma stood, trembling. *”This is your house. Your son. And Im just… temporary?”*
Margaret smiled thinly. *”Marriage certificates tear, love. If a wife doesnt fit, shes replaced.”*
That evening, James came home exhausted. *”Works a nightmare. No bonus this month.”*
Emma waited. Then: *”James, are you happy with me?”*
He blinked. *”What kind of question is that?”*
*”Your mother says youre not.”*
He sighed. *”She worries. Thinks we argue too much.”*
*”We argue about her!”*
*”Em, Im stuck between you two. I cant choose.”*
*”Then Ill choose,”* she said softly.
Next morning, she packed a suitcase.
Margaret watched from the doorway. *”Going somewhere?”*
*”To a friends. For a while.”*
*”Probably for the best. James needs space.”*
Emma turned at the door. *”Tell him if he wants me back, he comes alone. Without you.”*
Margarets smile didnt reach her eyes. *”Well see if he bothers.”*
The door clicked shut. Outside, the air was crisp. Emma breathed deepand for the first time in years, she felt light.
James called that night. *”Mum said you left. When are you coming home?”*
*”Maybe never,”* Emma said. *”Its your mother or me, James. Decide.”*
Silence. Then: *”Dont make me choose.”*
She hung up. The choice was already made.
Walking away wasnt easy. But with every step, the weight lifted. Not because it was simplebut because this time, shed chosen herself.
And no one would take that from her again.
**Lesson learned:** Love shouldnt mean vanishing into someone elses shadow. Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is walk awayeven if it hurts. Especially then.
