**Married to the Wrong Man**
There was little Imogen Whitmore could do about her stubborn daughter, Poppy, the apple of her eye. Theirs was a comfortable familyPoppys father, Henry Whitmore, was a doctor, while Imogen worked as an accountant at a modest firm.
Poppy had fallen for Ethan, a serious but kind young man, though Imogen disapproved. To her, he wasnt from the right sort of familynot the son-in-law shed imagined. Ethans mother had died in childbirth, so his father, Oliver, and grandmother raised him. His grandmother passed when he was fifteen, leaving just him and his father, who worked as a lorry driver at a factory.
Father and son had a strong bond. Oliver never drank, always supported Ethan, who was athletic and disciplined. Money was tight, but neither complained. Ethan never demanded luxuries, and Oliver was grateful for his sons understanding.
“Dad, Ive met this amazing girl, Poppy,” Ethan said once. “But her mum, Mrs. Whitmoreshes strict, and I dont think she likes me much.”
“Son, its not her mother who matters,” Oliver reassured him. “What counts is the love between you two.”
Poppy and Ethan were oblivious to the disapproval, too wrapped up in each other. They planned their wedding, while Imogen plotted to tear them apart. She couldnt stand the thought of her daughter marrying a mechanic.
The wedding felt more like a funeral. Only the bride, groom, and their mates smiled.
“Not the wedding Id have chosen for my only daughter,” Imogen sighed, eyeing Poppy, who hadnt even worn white.
Her parents had offered to buy her an extravagant dress, but Poppy knew Ethans family couldnt afford it, so she refused. “You can give me the money, but Ill choose the dress with my friend Emily,” she said firmly. “Ethans paying for his own suit.”
Imogen didnt see the dress until the day itselfsoft taupe, not traditional at all, but it suited Poppys caramel hair, topped with a delicate floral crown. And on her feet? Trainers.
Ethan matched her, wearing a shirt the same colour with jeans and trainers. To the younger crowd, it was bold and modern. To Imogen, it was a scandal.
“Henry, what on earth is this?” she hissed.
“That,” Henry replied calmly, “is our daughter and our son-in-law.”
“I meant their outfits!”
Henry chuckled. “Its fresh, isnt it? They look happy, thats what matters.”
Oliver, Ethans father, wore a well-worn suitclearly uncomfortable amidst the finery. Poppys grandmother, Beatrice, was even more disapproving. Before the wedding, shed tried to talk Poppy out of it.
“Poppy, love, cancel this. Ethans from a rough backgroundno mother, raised by a single father. No proper education, just a mechanic. How will he provide?”
“Gran, Ethan didnt choose his family. Hes my other half, and thats that.”
Beatrice huffed but saw Poppy wouldnt budge.
“Daughter, how could you allow this?” she muttered to Imogen at the reception.
“Mum, I tried everythingyou know how she is once her minds made up.”
“Takes after you, then,” Beatrice sighed.
“Dont start,” Imogen snapped.
Years ago, Imogen had been just as headstrong. When she met Henry, both were nearing thirty. Imogen had been pickyher mother disapproved of every suitor. She wanted someone educated, handsome, with a sense of humour.
Henry had been hung up on an old flame, Eleanor, who strung him along for years, vanishing and reappearing at whim. Then he met Imogensharp, confident, and stubborn. She won him over, though Eleanor tried one last time, showing up unannounced to find Imogen in Henrys flat.
“Whos this?” Eleanor sneered.
“My girlfriend,” Henry said, pulling Imogen close.
“Well see who ends up with him,” Eleanor spat before leaving.
Soon after, she married and moved away. Henry and Imogen wed, though Beatrice never approvedno man would ever be good enough for her daughter.
Now, watching Imogen fret over Poppy, Henry teased, “Plotting my downfall again?”
“Nothing left to plotnow its your son-in-laws turn.”
“Give the lad a chance,” Henry said. “Time will tell.”
The reception ended, and the newlyweds spent their first night in a hotel before moving in with Poppys parentsImogens idea, convinced she could split them up before children tied them together.
But fate intervened. Imogens old friend mentioned Eleanor was back in town. Panicked, she forgot about sabotaging Poppy and turned detective, inspecting Henrys clothes, lurking at his surgery.
Henry noticed. “Hiring a private investigator next?”
Imogen caved. “Would you run off if Eleanor asked?”
Henry smirked. “She already didshowed up at my clinic.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Youre the only woman I love.”
Relieved, Imogen laughed and clung to him.
Meanwhile, Poppy and Ethan thrived. One evening, Poppy announced, “Mum, Dadyoure going to be grandparents.”
Imogen gasped. “So soon?”
“Youll be a young grandma,” Poppy teased.
Resigned, Imogen sighed. “If Gods siding with them, who am I to argue?”
Henry couldnt wait for the baby. Life rarely follows our planssometimes, its better that way.
