Vicky always got on better with my mum, you know.
Well, if I started listing all the ways my ex was better than you, wed both be embarrassed. Though Im not so sure about me, interrupted Emily sharply, scrubbing the kitchen table. If you and your mum were so happy with Vicky, whyd you break up with her?
James turned away, sulking, and stared out the window.
You already know how that went…
Exactly. So spare me the Vicky talk, Emily snapped. Or Ill be your next ex.
She wasnt bluffing. Shed already considered drastic measures.
Shed met James a year ago through mutual friends. She even knew Vickynot well, but enough. Vicky had brought James along, then vanished off the radar a few months later.
One night, after one too many pints, James confessed hed caught Vicky cheating. Hed even shed a tear. At the time, Emily found it endearinga man unafraid to show his feelings, who valued love. Something in her clicked. She wanted to comfort him.
Now, she realised that “something” was probably maternal instinct, not romantic interest. But it had been enough to start a relationship.
At first, it was lovely. Hed meet her after work, drive her home, send sweet texts daily, ask if shed dressed warmly. She felt cared for.
Then Vicky messaged her.
Hey. Heard youre seeing James. Not my business, but be careful. He and his mum are a package deal.
Emily noted it but brushed it off. Love conquered worse obstacles. Just because things went south with one woman didnt mean they would with her.
Thanks for the heads-up, but well figure it out, she replied, keen to end the conversation. It felt disloyal to James.
James, however, had no such concerns for her comfort.
When his mum, Margaret, first turned up unannounced, Emily stayed calm. Maybe neither understood how intrusive it was. Margaret probably just worried about her son and wanted to see who he was living with.
Emily sent James to greet her, threw on clothes, tied her hair up, and stumbled outsleepy, dark circles under her eyesto meet her potential mother-in-law. Margaret was already rifling through their living room drawers.
Everythings a mess, Margaret sighed, smiling condescendingly. No wonder your socks never match. Emily, after breakfast, Ill teach you how to fold clothes properly.
No “hello.” Emily was stunned. A stranger rooting through her underwear in her own home felt brazen. But snapping back seemed wrong, so she bit her tongue.
Oh, love, those dark circles! Margaret tutted. You need cucumber slices. Or a kidney check. My friend once…
Emily smiled and nodded, feigning interest in strangers ailments while longing to crawl back into bed. It was 8 AM on a Sunday. Shed stayed up late, planning to sleep in.
No such luck.
Margaret stayed until evening, critiquing Emilys flower care, bathroom scrubbing, and cutlery polishingeven making her practice. By the end, Emily was drained. James never once stepped in or hinted they needed space.
Is your mum always this… full-on? Emily asked carefully that night.
She loved family, but boundaries mattered.
Yeah. She just wants to be friends, James shrugged. Vicky and I used to live with herwas proper lively. Now shes lonely.
Were not moving in with her, right? Emily sighed.
Whats the issue? You got a problem with my mum? James tensed. Vicky got on with her just fine.
Emily stayed quiet. Vicky was eight years younger and a people-pleaser. Of course they got on. She probably knew Margarets friends by name and diagnosis, ironed sheets perfectly, and baked pies to her recipe.
But Emily hadnt signed up for that. She had enough life experience to know: the fewer outsiders meddling in a relationship, the better. James disagreed.
Mums sociable. Gets on with anyone.
Not everyone wants that, Emily nearly said, but held back.
It got worse. Margaret returned the next morning, inspecting their fridge.
Chicken eggs? I only used quail for Jamesbetter for men, she declared. Shelves are grimy. You eat off these, Emily.
I dont eat straight off the shelves, Emily thought.
Ill clean them later, she said. We were planning to relax today. Its our day off.
James, meanwhile, snored shamelessly while she entertained his mother.
Exactly! Days off are for cooking and cleaning, Margaret said firmly. Fetch a sponge. Next weekend, Ill teach you meat pieJames favourite.
Emily froze, arms crossed. Running on someone elses schedule for two days straight was too much.
Margaret, maybe call before visiting? I might have plans.
Call? Cant I visit my own son?
Of course. But he lives with me now. We should respect each others time.
Vicky never minded, Margaret sniffed.
My exs mum never barged in at dawn. Brought cherry pies, though. Want the recipe?
Margarets face darkened. Wrinkles deepened. Anger flickered in her eyes.
Think carefully, Emily. The nightingale wont outsing the lark here.
She left, but the tension lingered. James ignored her concerns. Margaret treated their home as her own. And Vickys ghost haunted them.
Vickys stuffed cabbage was better. Her mum taught her, James mused at dinner.
Get her to teach you, then.
Emily suspected Margaret whispered comparisons, but refused to engage. She wanted the topic gone.
A peaceful month passedthen the doorbell rang at dawn again. Emily refused to answer. Rude? Maybe. But was barging in after clear hints any better?
Five minutes later, James stormed out, groggy and furious.
Whyd you ignore the door?
I dont want visitors who dont call firstor snoop through my things.
Shes my mother! Here to see me!
Then meet her outside. Not in my home.
James erupted. Neighbours probably heard. He accused Emily of rejecting his motherand him. Margaret yelled through the door, phoned repeatedly.
Finally, Emily snapped.
Enough. Either you explain what “guest” means and send her home, or were done.
James chose the latter.
Emily wasnt heartbroken. Theyd never married. Maybe it was for the best. A man tethered to his exs shadow and an overbearing mother wasnt her future.
Months later, a mutual friend shared news: James had a new girlfriend.
She moved in with him and his mum but wants out. Asked to meet you, the friend smirked.
Why?
According to his mum, youre the perfect woman. Beautiful, strong-willed, great cook.
Were talking about the same woman, right?
Guess you only earn praise once youve left James, the friend shrugged.
From then on, Emily listened more carefully to others opinions. She kept her wits about her, but didnt ignore warnings. And she steered clear of men who couldnt let go of exesor their mums.
