I remember those days as if they were a faded photograph of a life that once seemed promising. It began with a hurried apology from my wouldbe motherinlaw, Mrs. Whitaker, who had tried to smooth over a harsh remark Id made to her son.
Forgive me, dear Emily, for the sharp words, she had said, her tone trembling with nervousness. I didnt mean any harm. Perhaps youll drop by sometime? James is still alone, ever since you left, and hes lost in his video games
Emily and James had been together for almost two years, and I had convinced myself that our bond was serious. I often visited the Whitaker household, where I was received politely, though without any warmth. I believed we had a solid future ahead. James, though a bit carefree, possessed charm and a hint of ambition.
Our idyll shattered when James failed a crucial English exam. His negligencespending endless hours gaming during the lockdownhad cost him his studies and threatened his expulsion.
In the heat of the crisis I could not hold back. I turned to Jamess mother and declared:
I cannot be with a man who achieves nothing. I need a selfsufficient partner. I will not be anyones housemaid; we should share both the chores and the earnings.
Those words hung in the air, instantly casting doubt on what we had imagined.
Mrs. Whitaker took my outburst as a personal affront. She had spent her life caring for her husband and son, believing her role was to look after, not to demand results. She now expected me to behave the same way.
Good heavens! she exclaimed. A lady should first be the keeper of the home fire! And a manhe is the head of the family!
I fell silent, unwilling to inflame the quarrel further. After that, the door was no longer opened for me. Our communication dwindled to secret messages, occasional calls, and brief meetings in neutral places. James suffered from the distance, yet he resorted to manipulation instead of honesty.
Emily, we must speak to my mother, he urged over the phone. You need to explain that you dont truly feel that way. Im tired of hiding. Make peace with your parents, will you?
Why should I prove anything to your mother? I snapped. She didnt raise me. These are your problems, not mine. Why should I bend?
Because you love me, and I love you, he pleaded. Its the only way to fix everything. If you dont, well lose each other forever.
With a heavy heart, I agreedout of love, I was prepared to take the humiliating step of confronting a woman who was not even mine.
But the encounter turned out far from what I had imagined.
When I arrived, James let me into the hallway. At that moment his father, Mr. Whitaker, appeared, his voice sharp.
James, what is this girl doing here? he demanded.
James stammered, and I felt my face go pale. The question seemed to treat me not as his beloved, but as a random acquaintance.
Dad, Emily, we were James began, but his father cut him off.
I see who she is. Shes not welcome here! he barked.
From the sitting room, Mrs. Whitaker emerged.
Whos making all that racket? Jimmy, whos with you? she called.
Mr. Whitaker, ignoring me, added, The same one who taught you how to live.
I realized then that I was an unwelcome guest. Hurt and anger surged, driving me to act on instinct.
Im leaving, and you stay, you pitiful, goodfornothing son of a mother! I hissed, storming out and slamming the door behind me.
James, stunned, made no move to stop me.
The moment I stepped into the stairwell, my phone rang. It was James, his voice laced with rage rather than remorse.
Why did you say that?! You ruined everything!
What did I ruin? Your father just reduced me to a callgirl! he shouted.
It matters not who he placed me with! You caused a scandal! Mother is furious, and Father demands I never see you again!
He then delivered the final blow.
And you know whats the worst part? Ill never get to sit at my computer again.
Pain and humiliation hardened into cold resolve.
You blame me for not being able to game? Your familys problems are yours to sort out, not mine, I replied. You should have dealt with them yourself, not drag me into it.
It became clear James had not changed. He remained an immature lad, searching for scapegoats. He offered me no protection.
I cant endure this any longer, James. We are done, I said firmly, blocking him on every platform. The split was abrupt but necessary. His familys burdens were his to bear, not mine.
A year later I recovered from the breakup and began anew. I met a man named Thomas; after three months we were already discussing marriage.
One afternoon, while browsing a shop, I was surprised to see Mrs. Whitaker hurrying toward me.
Emily! My dear, how wonderful to see you! she exclaimed, enveloping me in an unexpected hug and bombarding me with questions.
How long has it been! How are you? I heard you and James splitwhat a disaster! Hes gone mad with his games, refuses work, spends all his time at the computer. When you were together, he seemed far more responsible Do come to our home sometime!
Im sorry, Mrs. Whitaker, Im very busywork, the house I tried to withdraw.
She glanced at the ring on my finger.
And whats this? Are you married?
No, were only engaged. The wedding will be this summer.
A smile twisted on her face, and the earlier kindness vanished.
So thats why! Good riddance to James, then! We dont need her! she snorted.
I shrugged and turned away toward the shelves. In a way, she was rightshe had been glad to see James gone. It was a pity, though, that I had wasted so much time on him.
