**Diary Entry**
I thought my daughter had a happy family until I visited them.
When our Emily announced she was marrying a man eight years her senior, we didnt object. He made an excellent first impressionrefined, polite, thoughtful. Gregory knew how to charm. He showered our girl with affection: flowers, holidays, gifts. And when he insisted on covering all the wedding expensesthe venue, the dress, the videographers, the décorI nearly cried. We were certain: our little girl was in good hands.
*He runs his own business, Mum, dont worry,* Emily would say. *Hes comfortable, hes got everything under control.*
Six months after the wedding, Gregory visited us with Emily. He walked through our flat without a word. The next day, technicians arrived to take measurements. A week later, workmen. And just like that, our old flat in Manchester was fitted with luxurious triple-glazed windows, soundproofed. Then came the refurbished balcony, air conditioning, even the tiles were replaced.
My husband and I thanked him, bewildered, but he waved it off: *A trifle. For my wifes parents, nothings too good.* Of course, it pleased us. And how could we not rejoice, seeing our daughter so well-provided for, loved by such a devoted husband?
Then their first child arrived. It was like something from a film: balloons at the hospital, a beautiful babygrow, lace blankets, a photographereverything was lavish. My husband and I smiled, moved: *There they are, a happy family.*
Two years later, a second child came. More gifts, more guests. But Emily seemed hollow. Tired eyes, a forced smile. At first, I thought it was postnatal fatigue. Two children arent easy. But with every call, I sensed she was hiding something.
I decided to visit. I warned them. I arrived one evening. Gregory wasnt home. Emily greeted me without warmth; the children played in their room. I kissed them, held them close. My heart swelledgrandchildren, after all. Then, when they were lost in their cartoons, I asked softly:
*Emily, love, whats wrong?*
She flinched, stared into the distance, then forced a tight smile.
*Im fine, Mum. Just tired.*
*Its not just 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 almost imperceptibly. He smiled, greeted me, but his eyes were cold, as if I were an intrusion. And thats when I smelled itthat cloying, overly feminine perfume, nothing like him. A distinctly English scent, unmistakably a womans.
When he took off his jacket, I caught a lipstick stain on his collar. Pink. I couldnt help but murmur, bluntly:
*Gregory were you really at the office?*
He froze for a second. Then straightened, looked at me with icy calm, almost cruel, before answering:
*Jacqueline, with all due respect, dont meddle in our marriage. Yes, theres another woman. But it means nothing. For a man of my standing, its common. Emily knows. It doesnt change our family. We wont divorce. The children, my wifeits all under control. I provide, Im here. So dont dwell on something as trivial as lipstick.*
I clenched my jaw. Emily stood and slipped into the childrens room, eyes downcast. He went to shower as if nothing had happened. My heart shattered with helplessness. I went to my daughter, held her, and whispered:
*Emily you think this is normal? That he sleeps with another woman and you endure it? Is this what a family is?*
She shrugged and began to cry. Silently, as if the tears fell of their own will. I stroked her back, wordless. There was so much to say, but it was useless. 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 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.
**Lesson learned:** Riches cant buy decency, and silence isnt peace. Some cages, no matter how golden, are still prisons.
