Emily had made up her mindno matter what, she was going to be happy.
In her fourth year at university, she fell head over heels for a guy. And not just any guyLiam was the sort of lad every girl on the course fancied. He came from money, after all.
Emily was pretty, clever, and had her wits about her, but she and Liam were from different worlds. Her parents were working-class, while his family was comfortably off. She knew the gap was there, but love didnt care about any of that.
“Em, youre wasting your time with Liam,” her flatmates in the student halls would say. “Hes got his head in the clouds, looks down on half the lads on the course. Only hangs with his posh mates.”
“So what?” Emily would shoot back. “I know my worth. Im not some wallflowerIm smart, Ive got looks, and I can hold my own in any conversation.”
“Just dont come crying to us later,” theyd sigh. “Bet his mum and dad are proper snobs. You wont even get a foot in the door.”
“Oh, stop trying to scare me,” Emily would laugh nervously. “Its meeting his parents Im actually dreadingespecially his mum.”
When she first fell for Liam, she never imagined hed feel the same. But somehow, without even trying, he did. In fact, *he* was the one who asked *her* out firstto the cinema.
They dated most of that last year, and just before summer break, Liam dropped the bomb.
“Em, were going to meet my parents on Saturday. Mums been naggingwants to know who you are.”
“What? So sudden!” Emily panicked. “Im not ready!”
“Relax,” Liam chuckled. “Theyre just people. Dads quiet, keeps to himself. Mums the chatty oneshell grill you, but dont let it rattle you.”
By then, Emily was certain theyd get married. She just had to win his parents over. The invitation to their family lunch was official, and she was terrified of putting a foot wrong. So for two days straight, she studied etiquette bookshow to sit, how to eat, how to talk.
Saturday came. Liam picked her up, and they walked to his parents flat. Her heart pounded as she braced herself for her future mother-in-law.
“Hello,” Emily managed as she stepped inside, forcing a smile at the elegant woman waiting for them.
“Hello, love. Im Margaret,” the woman said warmly, and Emily relaxed just a little. “Liam, take her through to the dining room.”
At the table sat Liams father, Richard, who gave them a silent nod as they entered.
Emily sat up straight, elbows off the table, handling her cutlery like shed rehearsed. She barely atetoo nervous, remembering the etiquette books warning about speaking with a full mouth.
But nerves got the better of her. Her fork slipped, clattering onto the thick, cream-coloured carpet. She flinched, shoulders hunching, eyes darting to Margaret. Liam just laughed.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
But Margaret only smiled. “Liam, stop being rude. Get her a clean fork.”
“Alright, Mum,” he muttered, picking it up before disappearing to the kitchen.
“Emily, love, youre wound up tighter than a spring,” Margaret said gently. “Relaxthis isnt a royal banquet. Eat properly, or Ill think you dont like my cooking.”
“Oh, Margaret, no! Its delicious. I just assumed Liam said you had a housekeeper?”
“We do,” Margaret sighed. “But today, I wanted to cook myself.”
“Why?” Emily blinked.
Margaret laughed. “Why do you think? I wanted to impress my future daughter-in-law.”
Emily couldnt believe it. “So *Im* not the only one putting on a show today? I was so nervous!”
“Seems not,” Margaret chuckled. “But honestly, loveour boys done well. Isnt that right, Richard?”
Her husband nodded. “Absolutely, dear.”
The meeting went better than Emily hoped. She relaxed, chatting easily with Margaret. Two weeks later, she and Liam registered their marriage. Two months after that, they had their wedding.
“Where are we going to live?” Emily asked.
“Not sure,” Liam shrugged. “But Mum and Dad have been whispering about something.”
The answer came at the wedding itselfLiams parents gifted them the keys to a one-bed flat, just two floors below theirs in the same building.
Emily was over the moon. Her family, whod come for the wedding, cheered. “There *is* a God,” her mum said, hugging her. “Youve got your own roof over your head now.”
Emily wanted to finish uni at the same time as Liam.
She was sure the future was bright. But in their final year, she found out she was pregnant. Thrilled but scared, she told Liam.
“Guess what? Were having a baby! I just hope I can still graduate on time”
Liams face darkened. “A *baby*? Were not ready! Were still students, living off my parents. I thought wed have at least three years just for us!”
Emily froze, fighting tears.
“Look,” he said coldly, “I dont want it. Were too young to be tied down with nappies and sleepless nights.”
“You want me to*get rid of it*?” She choked out. “No. *Never*.” She ran out in tears, needing air.
Downstairs, she bumped into Margaret.
“Emily, love” Her smile faded when she saw the tears. “Good lord, whats happened? Come upstairs.”
Inside, Margaret sat her down. “Out with it. I can see its bad.”
Emily sobbed. The housekeeper, Mrs. Wilkins, brought her water. Gulping it down, Emily blurted out, “Margaret, he wants me toto end the pregnancy. Because of money, becausebecause were still studying. But I *cant*.”
“Of course you cant,” Margaret said firmly. “And you wont. Stop cryingyou mustnt get worked up now. Men talk nonsense. How far along are you?”
“Eight weeks.”
“Youll still graduate in time. First problem solved. Now, go eatMrs. Wilkins will fix you something. Ill have a word with my son.”
Emily had no idea what Margaret said, but later, Liam shuffled in, sheepish.
“Alright, Em. I was wrong.” He took her hand, leading her home.
“Thank you,” Emily whisperednot to him, but to Margaret, who smiled.
They made up. Emily graduated with Liam, and two weeks later, she gave birth to a son. His parents were overjoyedmore than Liam, who was distant.
He got a job; Emily stayed home with the baby. But Liam started coming home latethen drunk.
“Why do you *need* to drink every night?” she finally snapped.
“Since when do you nag? Cant I have a pint with my mates?”
She bit her tongue, never complaining to Margaret. But when their son was nearly two, she noticed Liams late returns, the unfamiliar perfume, the lipstick stains.
She confronted him. “Are you cheating on me?”
He hesitated, muttered something, then walked out.
Emily exhaled. “Right. I deserve better.”
That evening, she spoke to Margaret.
“Emily, dont be hasty. Maybe its just a phase”
“No. Its over. Im taking my son to my mums.”
“Dont be sillyyouve nowhere to go there. Stay with us. Let *him* move out. Were not losing our grandson to some village. Mrs. Wilkins will help when you go back to work. Unless you dont think of us as family?”
Emily knew it was the best option.
“Your main focus now is work,” Margaret said firmly. “Not moneyI just need you out of this flat, around people. You need to *feel* like yourself again.”
“Thank you,” Emily whispered. “I dont know what Id do without you. But one things certainI *will* be happy, no matter what.”
“Good girl. Youll get through this. Youre stronger than you think.”
Emily was grateful. Against all odds, Margaret had become her rock.
Five years later, Emily married a colleague, Ryan. They live with their son and newborn daughter across town. Shes happyRyan is everything Liam wasnt. Margaret and Richard dote on their grandson, summers spent at their countryside cottage. Their little granddaughter adores “Gran Margie.”
And Emily? She kept her promiseshes happy.
