Victoria got on much better with my mum, you know.
Listen, if I started listing all the ways my ex was better than you, wed both be mortified. Though Im not so sure about myself, Emily cut in sharply, scrubbing the kitchen table with more force than necessary. If you and Victoria were so perfect together, why did you even break up?
William turned away, his jaw tight, staring pointedly out the window.
You already know how it ended…
Exactly. So spare me the praise for your precious Victoria, Emily snapped. Or Ill be the next ex youre whining about.
She wasnt bluffing. Shed reached her limit.
Shed met William nearly a year ago, introduced through mutual friends. Shed even known Victorianot well, but enough. Victoria had brought William along, then vanished from the group entirely a few months later.
One night, after too many pints, William had confessed the truthhed caught Victoria cheating. Hed even shed a tear. At the time, Emily had found it endearing. A man unafraid to show emotion, who valued love. Something inside her had stirredthe urge to comfort him, to heal that hurt.
Now, she realised that something had likely been maternal instinct, not attraction. But back then, it had been enough to start something between them.
At first, it had been lovely. Hed wait for her after work, drive her home, send sweet texts every day, checking if shed dressed warmly enough. Shed felt cherished.
The first warning had come from Victoria herself.
Hey. Heard youre seeing William. Not my business, but be careful. He and his mum are a package deal.
Emily had noted it but brushed it off. Love conquered worse obstacles, didnt it? Just because it hadnt worked with one woman didnt mean it would fail with her.
Thanks for the heads-up, but well figure it out, shed replied, eager to shut down the conversation. It felt disloyal to entertain it.
William, however, had no such qualms about her comfort.
When his mother, Margaret, first turned up unannounced, Emily had tried to be understanding. Maybe neither of them realised how intrusive it was. Perhaps Margaret just wanted to see who her son was living with.
Emily had shoved William out to greet her while she hastily threw on clothes, scraped her hair into a ponytail, and stumbled outbleary-eyed and groggyto meet her potential mother-in-law. Margaret was already rifling through the drawers in the living room.
Goodness, what a mess, Margaret said with a pitying smile. No wonder your socks never match. Emily, dear, after breakfast, Ill show you how to fold things properlyno wrinkles, no lost items.
Not a hello in sight. Emily was too stunned to react. A stranger, digging through her underwear in her own home, and acting like it was normal? Rude didnt cover it. But snapping back felt just as wrong, so she bit her tongue.
Oh, sweetheart, those dark circles! Margaret clucked sympathetically. You need cucumber masks. Or better yet, get your kidneys checked. My friend Margaret had the same
Emily smiled, nodded, pretended fascination with strangers ailments while longing to crawl back into bed. It was eight a.m. on a Sunday. Shed stayed up late, planning to sleep in.
Wishful thinking.
Margaret stayed until evening, dispensing critiques and unsolicited advicehow to water plants, scrub the tub, polish silverware. Emily even got some hands-on practice. By the end, she was drained. And not once did William step in or hint that they might want privacy.
Is your mum always this involved? Emily asked carefully that night.
She wasnt against family closeness, but boundaries existed for a reason.
Yeah. Why? Shes just trying to be friendly, William shrugged. Victoria and I used to live with herproper lively, it was. Now shes lonely.
Please tell me were not moving in with her, Emily sighed.
Whats the problem? Youve got something against my mum? William tensed. Victoria got on with her just fine.
Emily stayed silent. Victoria had been eight years younger, the type to ingratiate herself with anyone. Of course theyd got on. Shed probably memorised Margarets friends medical histories, ironed sheets to perfection, and baked pies to her exact recipes.
But Emily hadnt signed up for that. Shed lived enough to know: the fewer outsiders meddling in a relationship, the better. William, however, disagreed.
My mums sociable. Gets on with anyone.
Not everyone wants her to, Emily nearly said. She held her tongue.
It got worse. Margaret returned the next morninganother unannounced visit, this time to inspect the fridge.
Chicken eggs? I only ever made William quail eggs. Much better for men, she announced smugly. And these shelves could do with a wipe-down. You eat off these, Emily. Honestly
I dont lick the shelves, Emily thought.
Ill clean them later, Margaret, she said flatly. We were planning to relax today. Its the weekend.
William, of course, was still fast asleep, leaving her to entertain his mother.
Exactly! Weekends are for cooking and cleaning, Margaret said breezily. Fetch a cloth. Next weekend, Ill teach you Williams favourite meat pie. To die for!
Emily froze. Arms crossed, she drew the line.
Margaret, how about I give you my number? So you can call before visiting. In case I have plans.
Call? Can I not visit my own son now? Margarets eyes narrowed.
Of course you can. But your son lives with a woman now. We should all respect each others space.
Victoria never minded, Margaret sniffed.
Well, my exs mum never barged in at dawn, Emily shot back. She brought cherry scones, though. Delicious. Want the recipe?
Margarets face darkened. Wrinkles deepened. Fury flickered in her eyes.
Think carefully, dear. The nightingale wont outsing the lark in this house.
With that, she leftbut the bitterness lingered. Emily didnt know what to do. William refused to listen, his mother treated their home as her own, and Victorias ghost haunted every argument.
Victorias stuffed cabbage was better. Her mum taught her, William would muse over dinner.
Lucky her. Maybe she can teach you to cook it, then.
She suspected Margaret was whispering in his ear but refused to engage. She just wanted the topic gone.
A month of peace passedthen it started again. Another early-morning ring at the door. This time, Emily didnt budge. Rude? Maybe. But was it ruder than ignoring her boundaries entirely?
Five minutes later, a bleary-eyed William stormed out.
Why arent you answering?
Because I dont want to. Guests call first. And they dont root through my things.
Shes my mother! Here to see me!
Then meet her outside. Not in my home.
The fight that followed couldve woken the neighbours. William accused her of rejecting his motherand by extension, him. Margaret shouted through the door, demanding entry, ringing her phone off the hook.
Finally, Emily had enough.
Thats it. Either you explain what guest means and send her home, or were done.
William chose the latter.
Emily wasnt heartbroken. They hadnt married. Maybe it was for the bestshe had no interest in a man welded to his exs memory and his mothers apron strings.
Months later, gossip reached her: William had a new girlfriend. A mutual friend filled her in.
She moved in with him and his mum. Already wants out. Asked to meet you.
Why?
Apparently, according to Margaret, youre the perfect woman. Beautiful, strong, brilliant cook.
Were talking about the same Margaret, right?
Seems she only likes them once theyre gone, the friend shrugged.
From then on, Emily paid closer attention to warnings. She still trusted her judgmentbut she no longer ignored whispers. And she steered clear of men who couldnt let go of exes or their mothers.
