I thought my daughter had a happy family until I paid them a visit.
When our Emily announced she was marrying a man eight years her senior, we didnt object. He made an excellent first impressionpolished, polite, and utterly charming. Edward knew how to win people over. He showered our daughter with thoughtful gestures: bouquets, weekend getaways, little luxuries. And when he insisted on covering the entire weddingthe venue, the dress, the photographer, the flowersI nearly wept. We were certain our girl was in good hands.
*He runs his own business, Mum, dont worry,* Emily would say. *Hes comfortable, hes got everything sorted.*
Six months after the wedding, Edward visited us with Emily. He walked through our flat without a word. The next day, workmen arrived to take measurements. A week later, they began renovations. Suddenly, our modest little place in York was fitted with triple-glazed windows, soundproofed no less, and a brand-new balcony. A sleek air-conditioning unit appeared, and even the floors were redone.
My husband and I thanked him, bewildered, but hed wave it off. *A trifle. Nothings too good for my wifes parents.* Of course, we were touched. And who wouldnt be pleased to see their daughter so well cared for, adored by a husband who seemed nothing short of perfect?
Then their first child arrived. It was like something out of a filmthe hospital exit with balloons, a tiny designer onesie, lace-trimmed blankets, a professional photographer. My husband and I exchanged smiles, hearts full. *Look at thema happy little family.*
Two years later, baby number two came along. More gifts, more celebrations. But Emily seemed dimmed. Tired eyes, a smile that didnt reach them. I put it down to exhaustiontwo small children, after all. Yet with every phone call, I sensed she was holding something back.
So I decided to visit. I announced it, packed an overnight bag, and arrived one evening. Edward wasnt home. Emily greeted me without her usual spark, the kids playing in their room. I hugged them, my heart swellinggrandchildren, at the end of the day. Once they were glued to cartoons, I turned to my daughter.
Emily, love, whats wrong?
She startled, glanced away, then forced a smile.
Its nothing, Mum. Just tired.
This isnt just tired. Youre faded. You dont laugh like you used to. I know you. Tell me the truth.
She hesitated. Thenthe front door slammed. Edward was home. Spotting me, his smile tightened for a split second before he greeted me. But his eyes were chilly, as if I were an inconvenience. And thats when I caught itthe scent. Overly sweet, distinctly floral. A womans perfume.
When he took off his coat, I saw it: a smudge of lipstick on his collar. Pink. I couldnt help myself.
Edward were you really at the office?
He stilled. Then straightened, his voice eerily calm.
Jacqueline, with all due respect, stay out of our marriage. Yes, theres another woman. But it means nothing. For a man in my position, its common. Emily knows. It doesnt change anything. We wont divorce. The children, my wifeeverythings under control. I provide. So dont fuss over details like lipstick.
I clenched my teeth. Emily stood and slipped into the childrens room, head down. He strolled off to shower, as if nothing had happened. My heart ached with helplessness. I followed my daughter, wrapped my arms around her, and whispered,
Emily is this really what you want? Him stepping out while you endure it? Is this your idea of a family?
She shrugged and cried. Silently, as if the tears were automatic. I held her, stroked her back, said nothing. There was so much I wanted to saybut it wouldnt help. The choice was hers. Stay with a man who thought money excused betrayal. Or choose herself.
She was trapped in that *gilded cage* where, on the surface, everything was flawless. Everythingexcept respect. And love, the real kind, where you dont lie, where you dont look down on the person beside you.
I left that night. At home, sleep was impossible. My heart shattered. I wanted to bundle her and the children up and run. But I knewuntil she decided, nothing would change. All I could do was be there. Wait. And hope that one day, Emily would choose herself.
