I thought my daughter had a happy family until I visited them.
When our Emily told us she was marrying a man eight years her senior, we didnt object. He made an excellent first impressionrefined, polite, thoughtful. Gregory knew how to make himself loved. He showered our daughter with tender gestures: flowers, holidays, gifts. And when he declared hed cover all the wedding expensesthe venue, the dress, the videographers, the decorationsI nearly cried. We were certain: our little girl was in good hands.
*»He has his own business, Mum, dont worry,»* Emily would say. *»Hes well-off, hes got everything under control.»*
Six months after the wedding, Gregory came to visit us with Emily. He walked through our flat without a word. The next day, technicians arrived to take measurements. A week later, workers. And just like that, our old Manchester flat now boasted triple-glazed soundproof windows, a refurbished balcony, air conditioningeven the flooring was replaced.
My husband and I thanked him, bewildered, but he brushed it off with a wave: *»Small change. For my wifes parents, nothings too good.»* Of course, it pleased us. And how could we not be happy seeing our daughter comfortable, loved, with such a devoted husband?
Then their first child was born. It was like something from a filmleaving the hospital with balloons, a beautiful babygrow, lace blankets, a photographer. Everything was lavish. My husband and I smiled, touched: *»There they are, a happy family.»*
Two years later, a second child arrived. More gifts, more guests. But Emily seemed hollow. Tired eyes, a forced smile. At first, I thought it was postpartum fatigue. Two children arent easy. But with every call, I sensed she was hiding something.
I decided to visit. I warned them beforehand. When I arrived one evening, Gregory wasnt there. Emily greeted me without enthusiasm. The children were playing in their roomI hugged them, held them close. My heart swelledgrandchildren, after all. Then, when the children settled in front of cartoons, I asked my daughter softly:
«Emily, love, whats wrong?»
She flinched, stared into the distance, then gave a strained smile.
«Everythings fine, Mum. Just tired.»
«Its more than tiredness. Youre empty. You dont laugh anymore. Your eyes are sad. I know you, Emily. Tell me the truth.»
She hesitated. Then the front door slammedGregory was home. Seeing me, his face flickered with irritation. He smiled, greeted me, but his eyes were cold, as if I were intruding. And thats when I smelled itthat overly sweet, unmistakably feminine perfume. Floral, definitely not his.
When he took off his jacket, I spotted lipstick on his collar. Pink. I couldnt help but murmur, clearly:
«Gregory were you really at the office?»
He froze for a second. Then straightened, looked at me with icy calm, almost brutal, before replying:
«Margaret, with all due respect, dont interfere in our marriage. Yes, theres another woman. But it doesnt mean anything. For a man of my standing, its common. Emily knows. It doesnt change our family. We wont divorce. The children, my wifeeverythings under control. I provide for them, Im here. So dont dwell on details like lipstick.»
I clenched my jaw. Emily stood and slipped into the childrens room, head down. He went to shower as if nothing happened. My heart shattered with helplessness. I went to my daughter, held her tight, and whispered:
«Emily do you think this is normal? That he sleeps with someone else and you endure it? Is this what a family is?»
She shrugged and began to cry. Silently, as if the tears fell on their own. I stroked her back, saying nothing. There was so much to say, but it was pointless. The choice was hers. Stay with a man who believes money excuses betrayal. Or choose herself.
She was trapped in this *»gilded cage,»* where on the surface, everything was perfect. Everythingexcept respect. And love, the real kind, where theres no lying, no contempt.
I left in the night. At home, sleep was impossible. My heart ached. I wanted to take her and the children 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.
