**Diary Entry 28th February**
Today, my husband came back from his mothers house, sighed deeply, and suggested we get a paternity test for our two-year-old daughter. Not for me, he said quickly, for Mums sake.
It took me back to the months before our wedding, when shed constantly warn him: Dont marry hershes not good enough for you! Im no supermodel, just an ordinary girl from the outskirts of Manchester. I take care of myself, dress modestly, and always held myself to high standards in relationships. Why my mother-in-law, Mrs. Whitmore, decided I was some flighty temptress is beyond me. But shes turned my life into a nightmare.
Weve been married four years, with a little girl. Im on maternity leave now, my days a blur of nappies, cooking, and cleaning. The only adults I speak to are other mums at the park. But Mrs. Whitmore wont let up. Shes convinced Im cheating, watching me like some second-rate detective from a daytime drama.
Shes always spied on me, I muttered, blinking back tears. Phoned constantly, turned up unannounced, tried to control everything. At first, I laughed it off with Danielwed joke about it. But its exhausting. Ive lost my temper so many times. Shed back off for a week, then come back worse than ever.
The first proper row happened months after the wedding. Mrs. Whitmore showed up at my office out of the blue. No warning, no reason. Just wanted to see where I workedas if Id lied about having a job at all.
I dont even know how she got past security! I remember saying, my voice shaking. The building requires appointments. I nearly fainted when the receptionist brought her over: Visitor for you. I asked, Mrs. Whitmore, what are you doing here? She just smirked and said, Wanted to see your workplace. Then she stared around like she was hunting for hidden men!
Later, the receptionist, Emily, told me shed grilled her: How long had I worked there? Was I ever late? Did I chat with anyone special? She kept saying you were married, Emily added, baffled. I was furious. That night, I snapped at Daniel: Your mothers crossed a line! Talk to herthis isnt normal!
He mustve said something, because things quieted down. For a while, she just called in the evenings, asking about our day, even sending homemade scones. I thought the storm had passed. I was wrong.
The next incident happened when I was pregnant. Id taken sick leave, napping with my phone off, when someone started hammering on the door and ringing the bell like the house was on fire. I thought it was an emergency! I recalled. Peeked through the peepholeand there she was, wild-eyed, kicking the door and jabbing the bell. I called Daniel in a panic: Get home nowI dont know whats happening! He took twenty minutes. She waited the whole time, just glaring.
We both tore into her. I threatened to call the police next time. Keep her away from me, I told Daniel. And again, things settled.
After our daughter was born, Mrs. Whitmore barely looked at her. I realised why latershe didnt believe the baby was Daniels. Of course, I scoffed bitterly. Because Im the type to stray, right? Her logic? Their family only had boys. A girl, to her, was proof of infidelity. I ignored it, I said flatly. I dont speak to her. Daniel visits once a month, but never with us. Maybe its for the best.
Then came today. Daniel walked in, hesitated, and dropped the bomb: a paternity test. Not for me! he insisted, hands raised. For MumI just want her to stop! Shes lost the plot, and Im sick of hearing it!
I laugheda hard, hollow sound. For *her*? My voice shook. Admit ityou believe her. And shell *never* stop. We could do ten tests, and shed claim theyre faked! I wont play her games.
Its just a test, he pressed.
Why bother? I stared at him, tears burning. *I* know who her father is. Do you? Finewell do it. But first, we file for divorce. I wont stay with a man who doesnt trust me.
The words hung between us like a verdict. Our familys cracking apartall because of a woman whos poisoned everything with her suspicion. I dont know how to fix this. Or if I even want to.
