“Stop talking to your mothershes a bad influence on you,” demanded James, barely glancing up from his phone.
Emily froze in the middle of the kitchen, her tea cup trembling in her grasp. Had she heard him right?
“What?” was all she managed to say.
“I mean it,” James finally looked up, his voice firm. “Your mums always meddling in our business. Every time she visits, we end up rowing.”
“Jim, how can you say that?” Emily set the cup down shakily. “Shes my mummy only family left.”
“Exactly why you dont see how shes tearing us apart,” he retorted, pacing the kitchen tiles. “Every visit, its the sameshe hates the wallpaper, thinks I dont treat you right, or that my salarys not enough.”
Emily sank into a chair. Her mothers words from last night echoed in her head: *”Emily, love, why did James snap at you over supper? I dont like his tone with you.”*
“She just worries about me,” Emily murmured. “Wants me to be happy.”
“She wants to drive a wedge between us!” James snapped. “Cant you see? She resents that youre marriedused to having you all to herself.”
“Jim, thats not true” Tears pricked her eyes. “She was over the moon at our wedding!”
“Was she?” James scoffed. “Remember what she said when we got engaged? *Dont rush, Emilymaybe sleep on it.*”
“She just wanted me to be sure”
“She wanted you to back out!” he cut in. “Now shes chipping away at our marriage. Every visit ends in a fight. Dont you notice?”
Emily wiped her cheek with her sleeve. It was trueafter her mums visits, she and James always clashed. But surely that wasnt Mums fault?
“Its just coincidence,” she said weakly.
“Its not.” James sat across from her, eyes sharp. “She plants doubts in your headtells you Im no good, that youre miserable with me. Then you come at me with her complaints.”
“I dont”
“Last week, who had a go at me for watching football instead of fixing the shelf? Whered that come from?”
Emily bit her lip. Mum *had* muttered about men helping more around the house.
“See?” James pressed. “And suddenly youre on about us not spending enough time together. Whose idea was that?”
“Mum said couples should talk more…”
“Exactly!” He smacked the table. “She brainwashes you, and you bring her scripts to me. We were fine before she started popping round all the time.”
Emily tried to remember. Early in their marriage, Mum had kept her distance, saying newlyweds needed space. Then Dad passed, and suddenly she was over weekly.
“Shes lonely since Dad died,” Emily said. “She needs me.”
“I get that,” James sighed, softening. “But she cant take her grief out on us. Think about itwe barely argue when shes not here. The moment she leaves, youre a different person.”
“A different person?”
“Critical. Restless. Like her voice is coming out of you, not yours.”
Emily frowned. Maybe he was right. After Mums visits, she *did* start scrutinising Jamesthings shed once overlooked now grated.
“But what do I tell her?” she asked helplessly. “That I wont see her anymore?”
“You dont have to cut her off,” James shrugged. “Just meet for coffeeneutral ground.”
“Jim, I cant just… Shes got no one but me now.”
“And *Im* your husband,” he reminded her. “I wont have her dictating our marriage.”
Emilys chest tightened. Choosing between Mum and Jameshow was that fair?
“Listen,” James took her hands. “Im not saying cut ties. But set boundaries. Dont share every detail of our lives. Keep some distance.”
“What if shes hurt?”
“And what if *Im* hurt that my wife values her mothers opinion over mine?”
Emily sighed. His logic was sound, but it didnt ease the ache.
That evening, Mum rang.
“Emily, love, how are you?” Her familiar voice chirped through the phone. “James isnt cross about yesterday, is he?”
“Mum, why would he be?”
“Well, I *did* say your flat was drafty. Maybe he thought I was criticising.”
Emily recalled Jamess muttered *”Nothings ever righttoo cold, too hot, soup too salty…”* after Mum left.
“Its fine, Mum,” she said carefully.
“Listen, Ive been thinkingmaybe you should get a job? Sitting at home all day cant be good.”
“Mum, James and I agreed Id stay home for now”
“Agreed, or *he* decided?” Mums tone sharpened. “Emily, youve got a degree. Why waste it?”
“I like being home”
“Do you? Or have you convinced yourself you do?” A pause. “Darling, I worry youre losing yourself in this marriage.”
“Mum, please”
“Wholl tell you the truth if not me? You used to be so independent. Now youre just… fading.”
After hanging up, Emily sat at the kitchen table, troubled. *Had* she changed?
When James came home, she met him with:
“Jim, why dont you want me to work?”
He froze, halfway out of his coat.
“Your mums idea, I suppose?” he said wearily.
“Im just asking!”
“Em, we talked about this. Why stress over a job? My salary covers us fine.”
“But extra income”
“Wholl keep the house? Cook dinner?” He hung his coat, facing her. “I come home exhaustedI want my wife here, our home peaceful.”
“Other couples manage”
“Other couples divorce,” he said flatly. “Em, why stir trouble? Are you unhappy at home?”
“No, but”
“Then why let your mum mess with your head?” He pulled her close. “I want whats best for *us*.”
Emily leaned into him, but Mums words lingered: *”Youre losing yourself.”*
Next day, Mum arrived unannounced, groceries in hand.
“Thought Id make roast,” she announced, bustling in. “Youre not eating properly.”
“I *am*”
“Ready meals and pasta?” Mum unpacked vegetables. “Wheres the meat? Fresh greens?”
“I *have* veg”
“Potatoes and carrots dont count.” Mum waved her off. “Let me feed you properly.”
As Mum cooked, she chatted about her neighbours, her gardenthen, casually:
“Why was James so glum last week?”
“Work stress”
“He doesnt take it out on you?” Mum eyed her. “If somethings wrong, tell me.”
“Everythings fine”
“Fine?” Mum set down the spoon. “Youve lost weight. Those dark circlesare you sleeping?”
Emily touched her face. Lately, she *had* lain awake, replaying petty squabbles with James.
“Im just tired”
“From what? No kids, no job…” Mum cupped her cheek. “Emily, if hes unkind, you *must* say.”
“Hes not”
“Then why so withdrawn? You used to laugh so easily. Now you tiptoe around.”
The front door clickedJames home early.
“Oh, your mums here,” he said flatly, stepping into the kitchen.
“Hello, James!” Mum smiled. “Roasts nearly readyperfect timing.”
“Not hungry. Ate at work.”
“Nonsense, homemade roast”
“I said *no*.” His voice cut sharp. “Emily, we need to talk. Now.”
“Jim, can it wait? Mum just”
“*Now.*”
In the bedroom, James shut the door.
“We agreed yesterday,” he hissed. “What part of *set boundaries* confused you?”
“She just turned up”
“And you couldnt say we had plans? That you were busy?”
“Jim, she brought food”
“Emily.” He gripped her shoulders. “We agree on one thing, you do another. Hows this marriage supposed to work?”
“I cant just *kick her out*”
“Im not asking that. But you *can* say weve got plans. That were going out.”
Tears welled. “I feel torn between you both”
“And *I* feel like a guest in my own home,” he said bitterly. “Every time shes here, Im the villain. What did she say today?”
“Nothing much”
“
