Fate has a funny way of twisting lifes path in ways no one could ever predict.
Emily and James have been married for nearly a decade, happily raising their two sons. Emily, a teacher by trade, once taught history at a local school. But after their youngest, little Oliver, was born with health complications, she had to leave her job. Oliver needs constant care, and his mother must always be by his side.
“Were off to the hospital with Oliver today,” Emily told James over breakfast as he got ready for work. “Our appointment’s at eleven. Could you drop us off?”
“Of course,” James replied. “Ive got a meeting with the boss first, then I need to pop into the branch office. Ill call when Im on my way.”
“You could just take the bus with Ollieits not like youre royalty,” muttered Jamess mother, Margaret, pursing her lips disapprovingly.
Emily stayed silent. James grabbed his car keys with a quick nod and left. The couple lived in Margarets flata fact that wouldnt be so bad if she werent so domineering. The daughter of a retired colonel, she was used to giving orders, and everyone knew crossing her wasnt worth the trouble. Emily learned that lesson early on when Margaret made it clear who was in charge.
“This is my home,” Margaret had snapped the first time Emily tried cooking dinner. “I wont have another woman acting like she owns the kitchen. Do I make myself clear? I wont repeat it.”
Emily got the message. Arguing was pointless. Margaret had been widowed young and clung to her son fiercely, insisting they all live together.
Youd think shed be happyher son married, grandchildren born, a daughter-in-law who never caused trouble. But her commanding nature meant all her affection went to James and the boys, while Emily might as well have been invisible.
“Dont touch anything in this flat you cant even do the laundry right, let alone cook. Youre hopeless with my son and grandchildren,” Margaret would say, even though Emily scrubbed every inch of the house spotless.
Nothing Emily did was ever enough. The constant criticism wore her down, especially after Olivers birth, when she had to quit her job. She cried in secret, sometimes breaking down to James.
“James, I respect your mum, but living separately would be better,” shed say carefully, trying not to sound ungrateful.
“Whats she ever done wrong?” hed snap. “The house is spotless, meals are made, laundrys done, the kids are fed. You dont even workyou should be doing this yourself. Instead of complaining like some old nag, you ought to thank her for helping.”
“James, youve no idea how much I want to take care of my own children, cook my own meals, but your mum”
“We cant afford our own place,” hed cut in sharply. “End of discussion. Or have you forgotten Im the only one bringing in money?”
So Emily resigned herself to it.
“Emily, meet me downstairs with Ollie,” James called when she was ready for the hospital.
“Margaret, could we stop by the shops after the appointment? We need a few things,” Emily ventured.
“Absolutely not,” Margaret sniffed. “Ill get whats needed. You wouldnt know good produce if it hit you.”
Emily sighed inwardly. *Why is nothing ever good enough for her?*
After the hospital, she and Oliver wandered through the park, swinging and sharing an ice cream on a crisp autumn day. Oliver was six, too unwell for nursery, but next year hed start primary school. The doctor had reassured her:
“Hes doing brilliantly. Oliver will go to a regular school like any other child. His condition isnt worseningthanks to you. Youve done an incredible job caring for him. Well done.”
“Thank you, Doctor. That means so much.”
They walked home happy, though Emily knew Margaret wouldnt care about the doctors praise. Still, she had long since stopped expecting approval.
“How was it, Ollie?” Margaret asked when they returned.
“Great, Granny! The doctor said Im clever, and Mum takes really good care of me!” Oliver beamed.
“Of course he praised *her*. As if I had nothing to do with it.”
Margarets sixtieth birthday was coming up, and Emily and James agonised over gifts.
“Em, what if we take Mum out for dinner?” James suggested. “Give her a break from cooking. She might like it.”
“Dinner out? I dont know shell find something wrong,” Emily said doubtfully.
“Decision made,” James said, ignoring her. “But lets keep it a surprise.”
Emily liked the idea but knew Margaret would moan anyway.
“Mum, were taking you out for your birthday,” James announced the night before.
Margaret didnt protest, though she hardly looked thrilled. Still, her agreement was a small victory.
At the restaurant, the children were giddy, James and Emily relaxed, but Margaret sat stiffly, her face sour.
“James, well be bankrupt at this rate,” she finally sniffed. “You couldve had dinner at home for half the price. And Emily, if you were a proper wife, youd have talked him out of this nonsense.”
Emily stayed quiet, not wanting a scene. Across the room, an older man kept glancing their way. James grew agitated.
“Whys he staring? Stop looking at him,” he muttered, kicking her under the table.
“I dont even know who you mean!”
Jamess face reddened, veins bulginguntil the stranger stood and approached Margaret.
“May I have this dance?”
To everyones shock, Margaret smiled coyly and took his hand.
They danced all evening, laughing like teenagers.
“This is Robert,” Margaret announced later. “We went to school together. Fancy meeting him here! What a birthday gift.”
That night, Margaret didnt come home. The next afternoon, she rang the bellRobert beside her, beaming.
“Hello, darlings! Ive just come for my things.”
They stood stunned.
“Well? Im moving out! Robert and I have decidedhavent we?” She glanced at him, and he nodded eagerly.
After packing, Margaret kissed them all goodbye and left with Robert. They married soon after.
Emily and James were overjoyedespecially Emily.
“Finally, Im the one running my own home!”
“Love, I had no idea you were such a brilliant cook,” James marvelled. “The house has never looked better. Youre amazing.”
“Told you I could do it.”
Margaret and Robert visited sometimes. Now, she showered Emily with praise, calling her “darling” and “a treasure.” James couldnt be happier. And whenever Margaret gazed adoringly at Robert, shed sigh,
“I always said a home should have just one mistress. Emily, youre wonderfulmy sons so lucky.”
Emily and James would exchange a glance and smile.
