In her final year at university, Emily fell in lovenot with just any boy, but with a handsome, well-off young man named Oliver. The girls on her course all thought he was brilliant, coming from a wealthy family.
Emily was pretty, clever, and kind, but she knew she and Oliver were from different worlds. Her parents were working-class, while his family had money. Still, love didnt care about that.
“Emily, youre wasting your time with Oliver,” her flatmates warned. “Hes full of himself, looks down on people. Even his mates are all posh.”
“So what? I know my worth,” Emily shot back. “Im not some silly girlIm smart, I get top marks, and I can hold my own in any conversation.”
“Yeah, well, dont come crying to us later. His mum and dad probably wouldnt even give you the time of day,” they insisted.
“Honestly, youre scaring me,” Emily admitted. “Meeting his parents is what Im really dreading, especially his mum…”
At first, she never imagined Oliver would return her feelings. But to her surprise, he didwithout her even trying. He was the one who asked her out first, taking her to the cinema.
They dated all through their final year, and just before summer break, Oliver said, “Emily, were going to my parents on Saturday. Mum wont stop asking about youwho you are, what youre like.”
“Oh, Oliver, so soon? I dont feel ready!” she panicked.
“Dont be daft. Theyre just people. Dads quiet, keeps to himself, but Mumwell, shes a talker. Loves asking questions. But dont worry,” he said with a grin.
Emily was sure theyd marry one dayshe just had to impress his parents. The formal invitation to Sunday lunch terrified her. Determined not to put a foot wrong, she spent two days studying etiquette and table manners.
When Saturday came, Oliver met her, and they walked to his parents flat together. Her stomach twisted with nerves, especially at the thought of facing her future mother-in-law.
“Hello,” Emily managed, stepping inside and forcing a smile at Olivers mother, a striking woman whose warm grin relaxed her a little.
“Hello, Emily! Im Margaret. Come through, darling.”
At the table sat Olivers father, William, who nodded silently as they entered.
Emily sat stiffly, back straight, elbows off the table, handling her knife and fork perfectly. She barely ate, remembering the etiquette rule about not speaking with food in her mouth.
But nerves betrayed herher fork slipped and clattered to the thick carpet. She flinched, glancing nervously at Margaret while Oliver laughed.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
Margaret just smiled. “Oliver, dont be rude. Fetch Emily a clean fork.”
“Right, Mum,” he said, scooping it up and heading to the kitchen.
“Emily, love, relax,” Margaret said kindly. “This isnt Buckingham Palace. Eat up, or Ill think you dont like my cooking.”
“Oh, no! Its lovely. I just thought Oliver said you had a housekeeper, Mrs. Thompson?”
“We do,” Margaret sighed. “But today, I wanted to cook myself.”
“Why?”
Margaret laughed. “Well, I had to impress my future daughter-in-law, didnt I?”
Emily blinked. “So its not just me on trial today?”
“Seems not,” Margaret chuckled. “But Ill say thisOliver didnt disappoint. Right, William?”
“Absolutely,” he agreed.
The visit went well. Emily relaxed, chatting easily with Margaret. Two weeks later, she and Oliver applied for a marriage license, and within months, they were wed.
“Oliver, where will we live?” Emily asked.
“Not sure yet. Mum and Dad were whispering about something…”
The answer came at the receptionOlivers parents gifted them keys to a one-bedroom flat just two floors below theirs.
Emily was overjoyed. Her family, visiting from up north, cheered. “There really is a God,” her mother said. “Youve got your own roof over your head.”
Emily wanted to finish uni alongside her husband, certain their future was bright. But in their final year, she discovered she was pregnant. Thrilled but scared, she told Oliver.
“Oliver, Im so happywere going to have a baby! I just hope I can still graduate on time…”
He stared, then scowled. “A baby? Were still students, living off my parents! I thought wed have a few years just for us.”
Emily froze, fighting tears. “So you want me to get rid of it?”
“Basically, yes. Im not wasting my youth on nappies. Youll have time later.”
“No! Never!” She stormed out, straight into Margaret downstairs.
“Emily! Whatsoh, love, whats wrong?”
Once inside, Emily poured out her fears. Margaret handed her tea. “Youre right to keep the baby. Dont listen to himIll sort this.”
Whatever Margaret said worked. Oliver apologised, and life moved on. They graduated, and two weeks later, their son was born. Olivers parents doted on him, though Oliver himself remained distant.
He started working, while Emily stayed home. But soon, Oliver came home late, reeking of beerthen perfume and lipstick.
“Are you cheating on me?” she demanded.
He hesitated, muttered something, and left.
That evening, she confided in Margaret.
“Dont rush into anything,” Margaret urged. “Maybe hell come round.”
“No. He didnt even deny it. Im taking our son and leaving.”
“Where? Back to that tiny flat up north? Stay with us. Let *him* move out. Well help with the baby. Just get back to workkeep busy. Youll feel like yourself again.”
Emily nodded. “Thank you. I *will* be happy, no matter what.”
Five years later, she was. Shed married a colleague, James, and now lived happily with their son and daughter. Margaret and William adored their grandkids, spending summers with them at their countryside cottage.
Life had tested her, but Emily learned this: happiness isnt givenits claimed. And sometimes, the family you marry into is the one that saves you.
