**Diary Entry 8th May**
Emily lined up three yoghurt potsstrawberry, peach, and blackberry. In that exact order. Rules were rules. The pots stood neatly side by side, just as they should.
The sound of a key in the latch broke the silence. William had come home from work earlier than usual.
«Em, you in?» he called, poking his head into the kitchen before making a beeline for the fridge.
«No, Im not here,» Emily replied dryly, sorting through a bag of rice without turning around.
«Why the long face?» Will grabbed the blackberry yoghurtthe last in the rowand sat at the table.
«Where are the bank papers? I left them on the counter.»
«Oh, those,» William hesitated. «In the study. I was sorting through a few things.»
Emilys frown deepened. Something in his tone didnt sit right. She marched to the study. The desk drawer wasnt fully shut. Yanking it open, she froze. Beneath the folder of bank statements was a stamped document. She pulled it out.
A certificate of residence. Margaret Anne Whitmore. Registered at the address *their* address. Dated three weeks ago.
«Will!» Emily stormed back into the kitchen, waving the paper. «What the hell is this?»
William nearly choked on his yoghurt.
«Em, I can explain»
«Explain? You registered your *mother* in our flat without telling me?»
«Shes getting on, she needs security»
«Security?» Emily slapped the table. «We bought this place *together*! Did you ask me? No!»
«Mums worried about the future»
«And Im not? *She* gets a say, but *I* dont?»
William stayed silent. Emily stared at him, seething. Twenty-five years together! Shed scrimped and saved for this flat. Twenty-five years! And now thisdone behind her back.
«How long have you been plotting this?»
«Em, its just paperwork.»
«Paperwork?» Her voice shook. «Adding someone to our property is *just paperwork*?»
«It eases her mind. Shes afraid of being left with nothing»
«And *I* should be afraid of a third owner in our home?»
Emily crumpled the document in her fist. William looked down, guilty.
«Does Margaret know Ive found out?»
«Not yet.»
«Brilliant!» Emily threw the paper onto the table. «Just brilliant, Will.»
He reached for her.
«Em, dont be angry. Mum meant no harm.»
Emily jerked away.
«Its not about *her*! Its *you*! You lied to me for *three weeks*!»
«I didnt *lie*»
«Omissions just as bad!» Emily threw up her hands. «Im bloody speechless, Will!»
She left the kitchen and slammed the bedroom door. Her heart hammered. Shed never expected this betrayal from William. For the first time in twenty-five years, she wanted to scream from the hurt. The phone rang. Caller ID: *Margaret Whitmore*. Of course.
«Hello, love! How are you?» Her mother-in-laws voice dripped with false sweetness.
«Fine,» Emily replied flatly.
«Ive got news! Ill pop round tomorrow. Need to bring my things, clear a bit of wardrobe space, alright?»
Emily nearly choked.
«Wardrobe space?»
«Well, naturally,» Margarets tone turned smug. «Ive got rights now. Didnt Will tell you? Im registered here.»
«I know.»
«Lovely! Expect me tomorrow. And do make that leek soupI adore yours.»
Emily hung up. So that was the game. Not just registrationshe meant to *move in*. Over her dead body.
The next morning, Emily took the day off and went to the council office. They told her: without the second owners consent, the registration was void.
«I need a solicitor,» she said firmly.
By afternoon, she sat in Mr. Thompsons office, sliding the property deeds across his desk.
«Registration without your consent is invalid,» he confirmed. «Ill draft the appeal. Should take a week.»
«Do it,» Emily nodded.
That evening, she cooked dinner calmly. William hovered, guilt written all over him.
«Em, still cross?»
«No,» she smiled. «All sorted.»
«Really?» His face lit up.
«Absolutely. Handled it.»
William froze.
«Handled *what*?»
«Youll see,» Emily shrugged. «Dinners ready.»
On Saturday, she invited Margaret over. The woman arrived with a bulging suitcase.
«Brought my things,» she announced. «And my own linens. Cant stand sleeping on someone elses.»
«Thoughtful,» Emily smiled.
Over dinner, Margaret held court.
«Now well be one happy family! Ive already picked my roomthat little study of yours.»
«Mum, we never agreed to that,» William said nervously.
«Whats to agree? Im registered hereits my *right*!»
Emily stood, retrieving a folder from her bag.
«Margaret, heres the notice revoking your registration. As of tomorrow, youre no longer on the deeds.»
«*What?*» Margaret turned puce. «William, explain this!»
«Em, whatve you *done*?» He gaped between his wife and mother.
«Justice,» Emily said coolly. «No consent, no legal standing. I never gave consent.»
«How *dare* you!» Margaret slammed the table. «William, *speak*!»
William stayed silent, staring at his plate.
«Take your things, Margaret,» Emily nodded at the suitcase. «Moving days cancelled.»
«William!» His mother shot up. «Youll let her treat me like this? Im your *mother*!»
William kept his head down. Emily met his eyes steadily.
«Mum, Emilys right. I shouldve discussed it with her.»
«*Discuss*? With your *wife*? About your own *mother*?» Margaret clutched her chest. «My *blood pressure*! Wheres my medicine?»
She rummaged through her handbag. William jumped up.
«Mum, calm down. Ill fetch water»
«No *water*!» she snapped. «Take my things and *drive me home*! I wont stay another *minute*!»
Emily crossed her arms.
«Perfect.»
When the door shut behind them, Emily sank into the armchair, exhaling. Her hands shook, but shed done it. She wouldnt be swindled. Shed worked her fingers to the bone for this flat. No one would steal her home.
William returned two hours later, creeping in like a scolded dog.
«Em»
«Hows your mum?» Emily cut in. «Calmed down?»
«Not exactly. Says Ive betrayed her.»
«And you?»
William rubbed his temples. «I dont know, Em. Shes my mum. Shes not getting any younger.»
«So your solution was to sneak her onto the deed?» Emily shook her head. «You know what cuts deepest? Not the actthe *lie*.»
He sat beside her.
«I was scared youd say no.»
«Damn *right* I would! So lying was better?»
«I didnt mean to lie. I just didnt know how to tell you.»
«And now?»
He sighed. «Now Ive botched it all.»
Silence. Then Emily asked softly:
«Why didnt you tell her *I* cancelled it?»
«Wasnt it you?»
«No, Will. The *law* cancelled it. Because its illegal without my consent. *You* broke the law, not me.»
He slumped.
«Mum says shell die alone. That no one cares.»
«So her solution was to *move in*?»
«I never thought shed actually *do* it!»
«Really?» Emily scoffed. «Then why the registration?»
«For security,» he faltered. «If something happens to me.»
«Will,» Emily took his hand. «Your mum was testing us. Registration first, then her moving in, then *running* the place. Ill help herbut live with her? *No*.»
William was quiet a long while before nodding.
«Youre right. I wimped out. Im sorry.»
«I can forgive fear. Not deceit.»
«So what now?»
Emily stood.
«New rules. One: no secrets. Two: your mum stays in her own place. We help, we visitbut she lives *separately*. Three: big decisions*together*.»
«And if I refuse?»
«Then choose: me, or your mum in this flat.
He looked up.
«Em, is that an ultimatum?»
«Im drawing a line, Will. Twenty-five years, and you pull this stunt. How do I trust you now?»
Williams phone rang. *Mum*.
«Not answering?» Emily asked.
He stared at the screen, then declined the call.
«Ill call her later. We need to sort *us* first.»
Emily nodded.
«Good. Were a family. No more secrets.»
The next day, William visited his mother. He returned three hours later, red-eyed.
«Rough?» Emily asked, pouring tea.
«Understatement,» he sighed. «She cried. Said Id stabbed her in the back. That she *sacrificed* everything for me And I» He waved a hand.
«And you what?»
«I told the truth. That you and I are *partners*. That this is *our* home. And that I was wrong to go behind your back.»
Emily set his cup down.
«How is she?»
«Furious. Says Im whipped. That I chose you over her.»
«And *did* you choose?»
William met her gaze.
«I chose *fairness*, Em. Twenty-five years together. Everything fifty-fifty. I messed up.»
Emily smiled faintly.
«Funny. I feared a different answer.»
«Which?»
«That youd say, I chose you, not Mum. *That* wouldve been wrong. Theres no *choosing*just balancing.»
William nodded.
«Thats what I told her. But she thinks youve poisoned me against her.»
«Shell come round,» Emily shrugged. «Main thing is, *you* understand now.»
For a week, tension hung thick. Margaret didnt call. William stewed but held firm.
On Saturday morning, the doorbell rang. Margaret stood there, holding a Victoria sponge.
«Hello,» she said stiffly. «May I come in?»
Emily stepped aside.
«Of course. Wills here.»
Margaret set the cake on the table. William startled.
«Mum? Whats wrong?»
«Nothing,» she smoothed her skirt. «Ive had a think, and well, I was out of line.»
Emily and William exchanged glances.
«Sit down, Mum,» he pulled out a chair.
Margaret sat, fussing with her handbag.
«I overstepped. Youre right, William. You and Emily built this life. This is *your* home. And I I panicked about growing old alone.»
«Mum, were *here*,» William took her hand.
«I know,» she sighed. «But sometimes it feels like Im just in the way.»
«Dont be daft,» Emily said. «No one thinks that. We all just need our own space.»
Margaret smiledgenuinely, for once.
«Youre right, love. Im too used to calling the shots. Raised William alone, made all the decisions. Now» She spread her hands. «Now Ive got to learn to let go.»
They had tea. Margaret chattered about her neighbour who helped with groceries.
Emily suddenly said:
«Will and Ive been meaning to refurbish your flat. The wallpapers peeling, the taps drip.»
Margaret tensed.
«Why?»
«So youre *comfortable*. So youre not tempted to relocate.»
She hesitated. «But I cant afford»
«Well cover it,» William said. «Emilys right. A fresh start. Well visit more, too.»
When Margaret left, Emily hugged William.
«You handled that well.»
«*We* did,» he corrected. «Learnt a lot this past week.»
«Such as?»
«That you cant make someone happy by making someone else miserable. I wanted the best for Mumbut went about it all wrong.»
«And I learnt,» Emily said, «that sometimes you fight for whats yourseven if it hurts the ones you love.»
A month later, Margarets flat got its makeover: new paint, modern fittings, a plush sofa. She softened, visiting *them* nowas a guest, not a tenant.
One evening, Emily found the original registration form in a drawer.
«Look,» she showed William. «Where it all began.»
He took itand tore it in half.
«And where it ended. No more secrets.»
Emily smiled.
«None. And no ones taking our home.»
«Funny thing,» William mused. «Mums actually *happier* now. Less fearful.»
«Because she knows were herebut in *our* homes.»
Rain pattered outside as they sat on the sofa, hand in hand. Their home remained *theirs*. And in that home, the rules were set by *them*together. As it should be.
**Lesson learnt:** Love doesnt mean surrender. A strong marriage needs honesty, boundariesand sometimes, the courage to say *no*. Even to family.
