Victoria always got on so well with my mum.
Well, if I started listing all the ways my ex was better than you, wed both be embarrassed. Though I cant say for sure about me, snapped Emily, scrubbing the kitchen table harder than necessary. If you two were so perfect with Victoria, whyd you even break up?
Oliver turned away, sulking, and glared out the window.
You already know how that ended…
Exactly. So spare me the tales of your precious Victoria, Emily cut in. Or Ill be your next ex.
She wasnt bluffing. Shed reached her limit.
Emily had met Oliver a year ago through mutual friends. Shed even known Victorianot well, but enough. Victoria had introduced them, then vanished from the group a few months later.
One evening, after one too many pints, Oliver confessed hed caught Victoria cheating. Hed even shed a tear. At the time, Emily found it endearinga man unafraid to show emotion, who valued love. Something in her stirred, a need to comfort him.
Now, she realised that “something” had been maternal instinct, not romantic interest. But back then, it was enough to spark a relationship.
It started beautifully. Hed wait for her after work, drive her home, send sweet texts daily, and fuss over whether shed dressed warmly enough. She felt cherished.
The first red flag came when Victoria messaged her.
Hey. Heard youre seeing Oliver. Not my place, but be careful. He and his mum are a package dealthick as thieves.
Emily noted the warning but brushed it off. Love could overcome anything, right? Just because things went badly with one woman didnt mean history would repeat.
Thanks, but well figure it out, she replied, ending the conversation. It felt disloyal to entertain it.
Oliver, however, had no such reservations about her comfort.
When his mother, Margaret, first showed up unannounced, Emily tried to be understanding. Maybe they didnt realise how intrusive it was. Perhaps Margaret just worried and wanted to see who her son was living with.
Emily sent Oliver to greet her while she scrambled to dress, hastily tied her hair back, and stumbled outsleep-deprived and bleary-eyedto meet her potential mother-in-law. Margaret was already rifling through the dresser drawers in the living room.
Goodness, what a mess, Margaret sighed, smiling condescendingly. No wonder your socks never match. Emily dear, after breakfast, Ill show you how to fold clothes properly.
No “hello.” Just criticism. Emily was too stunned to react. A stranger rummaging through her underwear in her own home felt outrageous, but snapping back seemed petty. She bit her tongue.
Oh, love, those dark circles! Margaret tutted. You need cucumber slices. Or better yet, get your kidneys checked. My friend Margaret had the same
Emily nodded politely, feigning interest in stories about strangers ailments while longing to crawl back into bed. It was 8 a.m. on a Sunday. Shed stayed up late, hoping to sleep in.
No such luck.
Margarets “visit” lasted all day. Emily endured a lecture on flower care, scrubbing techniques, and silver polish. She practised under Margarets watchful eye, exhausted. Oliver didnt lift a finger or hint they needed space.
Is your mum always this… involved? Emily ventured that night.
She loved family, but boundaries mattered.
Course. She just wants to be friends, Oliver shrugged. Victoria and I lived with her for a while. Shes lonely now.
Please tell me we wont be moving in with her, Emily sighed.
Whats the problem? You dont like my mum? Oliver tensed. Victoria adored her.
Emily stayed silent. Victoria had been eight years younger, a people-pleaser. Of course shed “adored” Margaretprobably memorised her friends medical histories and baked pies to her exact recipes.
But Emily hadnt signed up for that. She knew the fewer outsiders in a relationship, the better. Oliver disagreed.
Mums sociable. Gets on with anyone.
*Not everyone wants that*, Emily thought but didnt say.
It worsened. Margaret returned the next morning, inspecting the fridge.
Chicken eggs? I only buy quail for Oliverbetter for men, she declared. These shelves are filthy. Youre eating off them, Emily!
*I dont lick the shelves*, Emily seethed silently.
Ill clean them later, she said. We were hoping to relax today.
Oliver, of course, was still asleep.
Relax? Weekends are for cooking and cleaning, Margaret said firmly. Fetch the sponges. Next Sunday, Ill teach you Olivers favourite meat pie. To die for!
Emily froze. Arms crossed, shed had enough.
Margaret, maybe text before visiting? I might have plans.
Text? Cant I visit my own son? Margarets eyes narrowed.
Of course. But he lives with me now. We should respect each others space.
Victoria never minded, Margaret sniffed.
My exs mum never barged in at dawn. She brought cherry scones. Want the recipe?
Margarets face darkened. Wrinkles deepened. Fury flashed in her eyes.
Think carefully, dear. In this family, the early bird catches the worm.
She left, but the tension lingered. Oliver dismissed Emilys concerns, Margaret came and went as she pleased, and Victorias ghost haunted every conversation.
Victorias stuffed peppers were better. Her mums recipe, Oliver mused once.
Great. Get her to teach you, then.
Emily suspected Margaret poisoned Oliver against her but refused to engage. She just wanted the topic gone.
A month of peace passed before Margaret returned, ringing the doorbell at dawn. Emily ignored it. Rude? Maybe. But so was ignoring clear boundaries.
Five minutes later, Oliver stormed out.
Why didnt you answer?
I wont. Guests call first. They dont snoop.
Shes my *mother*!
Then greet her. Not in *my* home.
The fight was explosive. Oliver accused her of rejecting him by rejecting Margaret, who shouted through the door, demanding entry.
Finally, Emily snapped.
Enough. Either you send her home and set boundaries, or were done.
Oliver chose the latter.
She wasnt heartbroken. Theyd never married. Living with a man tethered to his mother and ex? No thanks.
Months later, gossip reached her: Oliver had a new girlfriend. A mutual friend filled her in.
She moved in with him and Margaret. Already wants out. Asked to meet you.
Why?
Apparently, Margaret raves about you now. Perfectbeautiful, strong, cooks like a dream.
*Margaret* said that?
Seems you only earn her praise once youve left Oliver, the friend laughed.
From then on, Emily listenednot blindly, but carefullyto whispers about people. And she steered clear of men who clung to their pasts and their mothers.
**Lesson:** Love shouldnt come with a jury. If someones always comparing you to ghosts, walk awaybefore you become one.
