I’m sorry, love, for the harsh words, the wouldbe motherinlaw blurted, rushing to smooth things over. I didnt mean them, truly. Perhaps youll drop by sometime? Victors still on his own, still hasnt found his path since you left. Hes lost in video games
***
Emma Clarke and James Whitmore had been together for almost two years. To Emma, the relationship felt serious: she spent many evenings in the Whitmore house, where she was always welcomed politely, if not warmly. She believed they had a solid future. James, though a little carefree, possessed charm and a surprising streak of determination.
Their idyll shattered the day James flunked his crucial English exam. It was the direct result of his laziness: during the lockdown he had spent countless hours glued to his computer, abandoning his studies. The threat of expulsion hung over him.
In the midst of the crisis Emma could no longer hold back. She turned to Jamess mother, Margaret, and shouted:
I dont want a man who achieves nothing. I need a selfsufficient partner. Im not going to be anyones maid; I want us to share everything the chores, the bills, the life!
Her words lingered in the air, instantly casting doubt on their future.
Margaret took the outburst as a personal affront. She had spent her whole life supporting her husband and son, believing her role was to care, not to demand results. Now she expected Emma to behave the same way.
Oh, thats rich! She wont be a maid, will she? A womans first duty is to keep the hearth warm, and a mans to be the head of the house!
Emma fell silent, unwilling to fuel the argument. From that moment the Whitmore front door seemed to close on her. Their contact dwindled to secret messages, rare phone calls, and brief meetings in neutral cafés. James suffered from the distance, yet instead of honesty he fell back on manipulation.
Emma, we have to talk to my mother, James pleaded over the phone. You need to tell her youre not serious about it. Im tired of hiding! Can we just make peace with them?
Why should I prove anything to your mother? She didnt raise me. This is your problem, not mine. Why should I bend for her?
Because you love me, and I love you. Its the only way to fix this. If you dont, well lose each other forever
With a heavy heart, Emma agreed. For love she was willing to take the humiliating step of confronting a strangers mother.
But the night didnt go as she imagined.
When Emma arrived, James let her into the hallway. At that exact moment Edward Whitmore, Jamess father, descended the stairs.
James, whats this girl doing here? he demanded sharply.
James froze. Emma felt her blood drain from her face. The question sounded as if the girl standing there were a mere acquaintance, not his sons beloved.
Dad, Emma, we James started, but Edward cut him off:
I see who she is. Shes out!
From the living room Margaret emerged, eyes flashing.
Whos making all that noise? Victor, whos with you?
Edward, ignoring Emma, tossed back:
The one who tried to teach you a lesson about life.
Emma understood then: she was not welcome. Humiliation surged, and instinct took over.
Im leaving, and you stay here, you pathetic, useless little boy! she hissed, storming out, slamming the door behind her.
James, stunned, didnt even try to stop her.
Barely outside the flat, Emmas phone rang. Jamess voice crackled, not with remorse but with rage.
Why did you say that? Youve ruined everything!
What have I ruined? Your father just put me in the position of a callgirl!
It doesnt matter who he put me with! You caused a scene! Now Mum is furious, and Dad wants me to cut ties with you!
He added the final blow.
And the worst part? Im definitely not getting any more time on my computer.
Pain turned to cold resolve inside Emma.
You blame me for not being able to game? Your familys problems are yours to sort out, not mine. You should have dealt with them yourself, not turned me into the scapegoat.
It was clear: James hadnt changed. He remained the immature boy looking for someone to blame. He hadnt protected her at all.
I cant take this any longer, James. Were done. This is the end. Emma declared, her voice steady.
She blocked him on every platform. The breakup was abrupt but necessary. His familys drama was his cross to bear, not hers.
***
A year later, Emma had recovered and begun a new chapter. She met a new boyfriend; after three months they were already talking about marriage.
One afternoon, while shopping, she ran into Margaret Whitmore, now affectionately called Muminlaw by the locals.
Emma, love, hello dear! Margaret rushed over, arms wide.
Emma flinched.
Hello
Margaret enveloped her in a hug, peppering her with questions.
Its been ages! How are you? Hows life? Im so sorry you and James broke up. Hes gone off the deep end with those games! Wont work, always at his computer. When you were together, he seemed so responsible Come over sometime!
Im sorry, Margaret, Im busy. Work, home
Margarets gaze fell on the ring Emma wore.
And this? Are you married?
No, were only engaged. The weddings set for the summer.
The smile on Margarets face vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold sneer.
Ah, so thats why! Good thing James left you! We dont need someone like you!
Emma shrugged and turned toward the shelves. In that moment, Margarets old warning rang true: perhaps it was for the best that shed walked away from James. She only regretted the time shed wasted on him.
