Oh wow, you wont believe thismy ex-mother-in-law just showed up out of the blue. She had no idea wed even split up.
“Can you imagine?” Lydia said, hands shaking as she put her phone down. “Margaret has no clue Oliver and I are divorced. And shes on her way here right now.”
Her friend Bellas eyes went wide. “Seriously? Like, to this flat?”
“Thats the problem,” Lydia sighed, rubbing her temples. “Shes convinced were still together. Says she misses the grandkids.”
Bella snorted. “Why are you so scared? Shes nothing to you now.”
“Easy for you to say. Youve never met her. Shes intense. Has connections, you know? If she thinks Ive been hiding this from her, shell lose it. Might even try to get back at me.”
Bella frowned. “Wait, you havent spoken in two years?”
“Not since she last visited from Manchester. We had a massive row.”
“Over Oliver?”
“Not just him,” Lydia muttered. “Everything. How we hosted her, how we raised the kids just everything. She had an opinion on all of it.”
“And?”
“And? She said her piece, I said mine. One thing led to another, and she stormed off, said she never wanted to see me again. After that, she only spoke to Oliver.”
“And he never told her?”
“Nope. Probably thought it worked in his favour. Another way to blame me for something. Said if I didnt respect his mum, I didnt love him. Then he vanished for a week, called to say hed met someone else, and that was that.”
Bella crossed her arms. “So Oliver let his mum believe you were still married.”
“Exactly.”
“And he never mentioned he took half the flat? That youre stuck in this tiny place with the kids, the cat, and the dog?”
“Thats the kicker. She thinks were fine. Said shes got business in London and needs to stay with us for a week.”
Bella glanced around the cramped room. “Here?”
Lydia nodded just as the doorbell rang.
Her stomach dropped. “Thats her. What do I even say?”
“Just tell her the truth.”
“Shell scream. Blame me. I cantwhat if I dont answer?”
“Worse idea. Then shell really think youre hiding something.”
The bell rang again.
Bella gave her a firm look. “Open it. And dont back down. Youve done nothing wrong. Ive got your back.”
Lydia took a breath and turned the knob.
“Hello, Margaret,” she said quietly.
The older woman strode in, two suitcases in tow. “Took you long enough. Hiding someone?”
“No, just chatting with Bella.”
Margarets sharp gaze flicked to the other woman. “And whos this?”
Bella stepped forward. “Bella. Lydias friend.”
A dismissive sniff. “Wheres Oliver? At work?”
Lydia hesitated. “Probably.”
“Probably? You dont know where your own husband is?”
Bella cut in. “Because hes not her husband.”
Margaret went still. “Excuse me?”
“Lydia and your precious son divorced a year ago,” Bella said, chin up. “He took half the flat, sold his share, and left her with the kids and pets in this shoebox. Any other questions?”
Margaret turned to Lydia. “Is this true?”
“Yes. We split last autumn.”
“Not that. Did he really take the flat?”
“He had every right. It was joint ownership. Besides, hes remarried now.”
“Remarried?”
“Says his new wifes pregnant. Asked me to go easy on child support, promised hed pay me back later. Claims hes struggling at work.”
Bella rolled her eyes. “And you believed that? Please. Hes lying. No job troubles, no baby, probably not even a wife. Just another scheme to guilt you.”
Margaret frowned. “Why wouldnt he tell me?”
Lydia bit her lip. “Maybe he didnt want to upset you?”
“Maybe,” Margaret said slowly.
But the truth was simpler: Oliver had a plan.
“Let her think were still together,” hed figured. “Mum hates Lydia, but she loves the grandkids. If she thinks theyre suffering in that tiny flat, shell help me buy a bigger place.”
So every month, hed call, complaining about cramped living, sending photos of the girls to tug at her heartstrings.
“Emily starts school soon,” hed sigh. “Nowhere to put a desk. Wed buy a bigger place if we could, but moneys tight. Honestly, Mum, the girls even wrote to Father Christmas asking for a flat near Kings Cross. Sweet, isnt it? They ask about you all the time. But dont worrywell manage. Even if Emily has to study at the kitchen table.”
He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Shell cave,” hed thought. “Sell that cottage in the Cotswolds, and Ill get my four-bed near Regents Park. The girls can have their own roomsperfect cover.”
But now, standing in Lydias cramped flat, Margaret finally saw the truth.
“I see,” she said coolly. “Where are the girls?”
“Nursery.”
“And your job?”
“I work remotely.”
“Neighbours?”
“Just one. Nice woman. Doesnt mind the pets. Recently divorced tooshes at work now.”
Margaret smirked. “Nice, is she? Right. Ill be off.”
The door shut behind her.
Lydia exhaled. “That wasnt as bad as I thought.”
Two months later, Oliver finally called his mum.
“Hey, Mum! Everything good? Glad to hear it. Us? Oh, same oldstill squeezed into that two-bed. Actually, about that idea you had selling the cottage? We could really use”
“What cottage?”
Oliver froze. “What do you mean? Did it burn down?!”
“Sold it.”
His voice cracked. “Youwhat? Wheres the money?”
“Spent it.”
“On what?!”
“A four-bed. For the girls.”
Olivers vision blurred. “But theyre children! You cant justwhy wouldnt you ask me?!”
A pause. Then: “I did visit, Oliver. You werent home.”
His knees buckled. “Wheres the flat?”
“Near Angel station.”
The next day, Oliver stormed into Lydias new place, silently seething as he paced.
“This shouldve been mine,” he thought. “Lydia played me. But its not over. Ill marry her again, then make sure shes out for good.”
He turned to her, dead serious. “After all this, were giving it another shot. Mum clearly forgave youwhy else would she buy this place?”
Lydia folded her arms. “She didnt buy it for *us*.”
“Then who?”
“The girls.”
“Thats the same thing. And you *will* marry me.”
“Will I?”
Olivers glare turned icy. “Let me rephrase: Im not asking. Were meeting at the registry office. Day after tomorrow, 10 AM. By the lamp post out frontremember?”
Lydia smiled faintly. “How could I forget?”
“Dont be late.”
“Wouldnt dream of it.”
She stood him up. Twice. Then a third time.
“Sorry,” shed say breezily. “Totally slipped my mind.”
Six months later, Oliver still showed up every time, rain or shine.
The registry staff watched in awe.
“Now *thats* true love,” theyd whisper. “Even during that stormtrees uprooted, roads floodedhe was here.”
One clerk grinned. “If he ever stops coming, we should build him a statue. Symbol of Undying Devotion.”
