**Married to the Wrong One**
Emily Whitmore couldnt do a thing about her only daughter, the headstrong Poppy. Theirs was a perfectly respectable familyPoppys father, Dr. Oliver Whitmore, was a physician, and Emily herself worked as an accountant at a modest firm.
Poppy had fallen for Daniel, a decent and serious young man, but in Emilys eyes, he was *not* from the right sort of family. Daniels mother had died in childbirth, so hed been raised by his father, George, and his grandmother. When Daniel was fifteen, his grandmother passed away, leaving just him and Georgewho, despite working as a lorry driver and never remarrying, had raised his son impeccably. They got on brilliantly, with George never touching a drop and always supporting Daniel, who kept himself fit and never demanded expensive things.
“Dad, Ive met this amazing girl, Poppy,” Daniel confessed one evening. “But her mum runs the show at home. Mrs. Whitmores proper posh, and I reckon she cant stand me. Every time Im round theirs, I can feel her sizing me up.”
“Son, its not her mum who matters,” George reassured him. “Its the love between you two that counts.”
But Poppy and Daniel were too smitten to care. They planned their wedding, while Emily quietly plotted to derail the whole affair. She *loathed* the idea of her daughter marrying a mechanic.
The wedding itself was more like a wake than a celebration. The only people smiling were the bride, groom, and their mates.
“Well, this isnt the wedding Id imagined for my only daughter,” Emily sighed, eyeing Poppys outfit with dismay. Instead of a traditional white gown, Poppy had chosen a chic coffee-coloured dress that complemented her caramel highlights, topped with a delicate floral headband. Andhorror of horrors*trainers* on her feet. Daniel matched her in a shirt of the same shade, jeans, and his own pair of sneakers.
“Oliver, what *is* this?” Emily hissed, jerking her chin toward the couple.
“That, my love, is our daughter and her new husband,” Oliver replied, utterly unruffled.
“I meant their *outfits*,” she snapped.
“Bit modern, isnt it? Bold. Youthful. But look at themtheyre happy. Thats what matters.”
Emily wasnt just mortified by the attireGeorge, Daniels father, sat awkwardly in his worn-out suit, clearly out of place at the posh reception. Worse still, Poppys gran, Margaret, a stern old bird, had spent months trying to talk her out of the marriage.
“Poppy, *please* reconsider,” shed begged. “Daniels from a broken homeno mother, raised by a working-class father. Hes got no proper education, just fiddles with cars. How will he provide for you?”
“Gran, Daniel didnt *choose* his family. And I dont care what he doeshes my other half. End of.”
Margaret huffed but saw the steel in her granddaughters eyes. At the reception, she muttered to Emily, “How could you let this happen?”
“Mum, I tried *everything*. You know Poppyonce she digs her heels in, thats that.”
“Hmph. Takes after you, then,” Margaret grumbled.
Emily stiffened. “Lets not go there.”
Years ago, when Emily had met Oliver, shed been pushing thirty and *very* particular. Her mother had disapproved of most suitors, but Emily wanted a man with a degree, a sense of humour, and good looks. Oliver, meanwhile, had been hopelessly tangled with an ex, Eleanora woman whod string him along, vanish for months, then reappear as if nothing happened.
Then he met Emilysharp, stubborn, and utterly sure of herself. One evening, while Emily was at his flat, Eleanor turned up unannounced.
“Oliver, why wont you let me in?” she whined, as if shed only popped out for milk. “Ive missed my darling Ollie.”
Then Emily strolled into the hallway, wrapped in a towel.
“And whos *this*?” Eleanor sneered.
“My girlfriend,” Oliver said, pulling Emily close.
Eleanor flounced off, but not without a final jab: “Well see who he ends up with!”
She later married and left town, though not without a few failed attempts to reclaim Oliver. Emily had won.
Still, Margaret had never warmed to Oliver. He took it in stride, knowing no man would ever meet her standardsespecially not a doctor who couldnt so much as fix a leaky tap.
At the wedding, he caught Emily whispering with Margaret and smirked. “Discussing my flaws again?”
“Oh, we covered those decades ago. Now were onto your *son-in-law*.”
“Daniels a good lad. Lifell sort him out. And we dont pick family, do we? They just come with the package.”
The evening eventually wound down, and the newlyweds spent their first night in a hotel. They moved in with Poppys parentsEmilys idea, of course. She hadnt given up on splitting them, convinced theyd divorce before children complicated things.
But fate had other plans. Years later, a friend mentioned Eleanor had returned to town. Emily *panicked*. Suddenly, her scheming against Poppy and Daniel seemed trivialshe was too busy sniffing Olivers clothes and lurking outside his surgery.
One evening, he finally snapped. “Em, why not just hire a private investigator?”
She folded. “Fine! I want to know if youd run off with Eleanor if she showed up.”
“Oh, she *has* shown up,” he said, grinning. “You didnt notice?”
Emily went rigid. “*When?*”
“Last week. Came to my clinic.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Blimey, my wifes *jealous*. Dont you know theres only one woman for me?” He pulled her close. “Its you.”
Emily melted, relief washing over her. She loved Oliver fiercely, and that love had only deepened over the years.
Meanwhile, Poppy and Daniel were blissfully happy. One evening at dinner, they exchanged a look, and Poppy announced, “Mum, Dadyoure going to be grandparents.”
Emily nearly choked. “*What?*” Oliver just beamed.
“Mum, dont you know where babies come from?” Poppy teased.
“Of *course* I do! But so soon? Im not ready to be a granIm still young!”
“Then youll be a *young* gran,” Poppy laughed.
Emily gave up. If fate had stepped in to protect Poppy and Daniel, who was she to argue?
Life had its own rules, after all. And Oliver? He couldnt wait to meet his grandchild.
