Love can sweep you off your feet, make you forget everythingexcept the one who fills your thoughts. Thats what happened to James when he fell for Emily, losing sight of everything else, even his conscience and duty as a son. The choice between comfort and morality isnt always easy.
“Jamie, where will we live?” Emily asked sweetly, gazing into his eyes with a sly smile.
“At mine, of course.”
“But… you live with your mum,” she pouted.
“So? Shes kind and easygoingdont worry,” James reassured her.
James wasnt some young lad; he was well into his thirties, and this would be his second marriage. His first wife had left himthey were too different. Shed miscalculated, thinking he earned well, pushing him to start a business. But without capital, it went nowhere. At least they hadnt had children.
He met Emily in a café after work, celebrating his mate Thomass newborn son with a pint. There, they spotted a lonely, sad-looking girl.
“Hey, why the long face?” James grinned, approaching her table. “Join us! My mates got a proper reason to celebratehis lad weighed nearly nine pounds.”
Emily didnt hesitate, sliding into their booth.
“Congratulations,” she said, glancing at Thomas. “A sonthats grand. An heir.”
Later, Thomas headed home, but James walked Emily back to her flat-share near the garment factory where she worked. She was from a tiny village, ten years his junior. That night, he stayed over.
They dated, strolled through parks, and before he knew it, Emily nudged him toward marriage and children.
“Jamie, youre over thirty and no kids? Time to fix that,” shed laugh, tired of the noisy shared flat, craving a proper home.
James, head over heels, proposed.
“Yes! Absolutely!” she beamed. “When do we register?”
“Soon. For now, move in with me and Mum.”
“No, Jamie. I wont live with your mother. You know how it is with mothers-in-lawI wont start my life like that. Lets rent our own place.”
“But, love, I cant afford rent and still live decently. Finewell figure something else.”
Margaret sat by the kitchen window, watching the first snowflakes drift down. Unwell and retired, shed taught maths for years until her health failed. The ambulance had taken her in more than once.
That evening, James brought Emily home. Theyd met beforeshed visited a few timesbut Emily avoided Margaret, breezing past with a quick hello before vanishing into Jamess room, laughter echoing behind her. Shed leave without a goodbye or glance.
“Mum, Emily and I are getting married… so shell live here,” James hesitated, then added, “And… she doesnt want you here. Ive arranged a care homegood place, doctors on hand. You understand, Mum, we need our space.”
The world can be cruel. Sometimes, ageing parents are pushed asidecare homes exist, after all. Duty fades when comfort calls. James didnt think of the nights shed spent by his bedside, the sacrifices shed made.
“I… understand, son,” Margaret whispered, heart breaking.
She packed her meagre belongings into an old suitcase, and James took her awayto a care home outside London.
Now her life was confined to a small room where she sat by the window, a worn photo of James on the bedside tableall that remained of her old life.
She hopedsome stubborn part of her still believedhed come back for her. Widowed at thirty-six, shed raised Jamie alone, working two jobs so hed want for nothing.
“My Jamie,” shed murmur, crying over the photo.
Time passed, but James never visited. With Emily, life was livelyuntil, within months, she started coming home tipsy, staying out late.
“Emily, where do you even go? Your husbands waiting.”
“Out with the girlsVeronicas birthday,” shed slur, careless.
“I married you for a wife, not a pub crawler.”
“Dont lecture me. You can cook for yourselfits not like youll starve,” shed laugh, stumbling to bed.
A year later, James divorced herand remembered his duty.
“God, this is my punishment… I threw Mum away and never even checked on her…”
One day, Margaret sat in her armchair, staring at the grey sky, when the door creaked open unexpectedly.
“Mum…”
She turnedand couldnt believe her eyes. There stood James, gaunt, dark circles under his eyes.
“Jamie! Whats wrong? Are you ill?” she asked, fear pushing aside old hurts.
“Mum, forgive me… I shouldnt have” his voice cracked. “I was a wretch. I treated you horribly. Please…”
He fell to his knees.
“Emily… she wasnt who I thought. She was seeing other men, always out with friends. Stopped working, sometimes didnt come home… She left me for someone else. I filed for divorce.”
Margaret listened quietly, stroking his hair.
“I abandoned you for her… How could I?” He wept, clutching her thin shoulders.
“Its alright, son. You came back. Thats what matters.”
“Pack your things, Mum. Youre coming home.”
Margaret returned to her flat, where faint traces of perfume still lingered. They lived together again, James bending over backward to make amends.
“Mum, look what I got you,” hed say, bringing giftsa warm blanket, a cozy jumper, an orthopedic pillow.
“Son, you shouldnt spend so much,” shed chide gently.
“I want you comfortable. You lived for me all those years. Thank God I realised in time. Well be alright now,” hed say firmly. “Ive a better jobhigher pay. Well get a bigger flat, your own room.”
“Im so proud of you. But you should marry againdont live just for me. You need a family.”
“Alright, Mum. Ill introduce you to Eleanor. Weve been seeing each other.”
The next evening, James brought Eleanor home, holding her hand.
“Hello, Margaret,” she said warmly, kind grey eyes shining. “I baked you an apple pie.”
“Oh, love, you shouldnt have!”
“Its no trouble,” Eleanor smiled as James fetched teacups.
Later, Margaret asked, “Son… is Eleanor alright with me living with you?”
James flushed.
“Mum, when I told her about the care homehow ashamed I wasshe near tore me apart. I had to confess before she heard it elsewhere.”
For the first time in years, Margaret felt warmth in her chest. Not all was lostgood people still existed. Soon, evenings were spent with tea and Eleanors pies, the three of them a proper family. If Margaret dozed off, Eleanor would tuck a blanket over her, and shed whisper,
“Thank you, dear.”
James finally understood true happinessa home isnt walls, but those who wait for you, no matter what.
One dinner, Eleanor beamed.
“Mum, Jamie… were expecting.”
“Oh, my prayers answered!” Margaret wept. “Oh, Eleanor, my sweet girl… Jamie, arent you pleased?”
James, stunned, leapt up and kissed his wife.
“Ellie, youre brilliantI adore you!”
“Youre not so bad yourself,” she laughed.
That night, James lay awake, thinking,
“Its never too late to make things right. Thank God Mums still herethat I could beg forgiveness, that were a family again.”
Time passed. Eleanor gave Margaret a grandson and James a son, filling their flat with laughter. Two years later, they moved to a bright, spacious homea nursery and Margarets own room.
Good fortune and kindness to all.
