“Mum said youre not the right fit for us,” explained the groom, calling off the wedding.
“Have you ordered the flowers yet?” asked Margaret Thompson, scanning her daughters checklist in the notebook. “Florists get booked up fastwedding season and all.”
Katie nodded without looking up from the wedding dress hanging by the mirror.
“Done. White roses and lisianthus, just like we decided.”
“Good girl. What about the band? Is that host from Beckys wedding free?”
“Mum, everythings sorted,” Katie sighed. “I told you yesterday.”
Margaret set the notebook aside and studied her daughter. Katie stood with her back turned, adjusting folds in the dress, but the tension in her shoulders gave her away.
“Katie, love, whats wrong? The weddings in a week, and youre moping about like its a funeral.”
“Im fine, Mum. Just nervous.”
“Perfectly normal. I was a wreck before my wedding too.”
Katie turned around. Her face was pale, dark circles under her eyes.
“Did you ever regret marrying Dad?”
Margaret blinked at the question.
“Of course not. Your father was a good man. Why would you ask that?”
“Sometimes I wonder if this is the right choice. What if James and I are too different?”
“Dont be silly. James is lovely. Hardworking, doesnt drink or run about. His mums respectable, hes got a flat. What more could you want?”
Katie turned back to the mirror. Her reflection showed sad, tired eyes.
“Mum, how do you know if you truly love someone?”
“Katie!” Margaret threw her hands up. “Asking that a week before the wedding! Of course you love him. Why else would you say yes?”
“I dont know. Maybe because its expected. Im twenty-eightall my friends are married.”
“Exactly. Time to settle down, start a family. You dont want to be left on the shelf.”
The doorbell cut them off. Katie went to answer, and a minute later, James walked in with a bouquet of carnations.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Afternoon, Margaret.”
“Hello, son,” Margaret smiled. “Ready to become a husband?”
“Absolutely,” James slid an arm around Katies waist. “Arent I, love?”
Katie forced a smile. “Yes, of course.”
“Wheres your mum?” Margaret asked. “We were supposed to finalise the details today.”
James hesitated. “Shes not feeling well. Sent her apologies.”
“Again?” Margaret frowned. “First headaches, now blood pressure. Odd.”
“Shes a worrier. Stresses about the wedding.”
Katie watched him closely. His eyes darted, fingers fidgeting.
“James, maybe we should check on her?”
“No need,” he said quickly. “Shes resting. Best not disturb her.”
“Stay for tea, then,” Margaret offered. “I baked biscuitsyour favourite.”
“Thanks, but I cant. Got things to sort.”
He kissed Katie againhurried this timeand headed for the door.
“James, wait.” Katie stopped him. “Ill walk with you. Need some air.”
“Not necessary. I drove.”
“Then drop me at the shops. I need groceries.”
Reluctantly, he gave in.
Outside, they got into his old car. Katie buckled up, studying him.
“James, whats going on? Youve been off all day.”
“Just tired. Works been mad.”
“And your mumis she really ill?”
He started the engine, pulling away before answering.
“Katie we need to talk.”
Her stomach dropped. “About what?”
“The wedding.”
“Whats wrong?”
He pulled over, cutting the engine. Avoiding her eyes, he blurted out, “Mum said youre not right for us.”
The words hit like ice.
“What?”
“Shes against the wedding. Says were mismatched.”
“James, this is sudden. Weve been together eighteen monthseverything was fine!”
“Dunno. She feels strongly.”
“And what do you think?”
He shrugged. “Mums lived longer. Knows best.”
Katie stared, seeing him clearly for the first time. Kind, attentive, but always indecisiveshed assumed hed grow a spine after marriage.
Instead, he was still tied to his mothers apron strings.
“James, what exactly does she dislike about me?”
“Well” He shifted. “She says youre too headstrong. Dont take her advice.”
Katie recalled the nitpickingovercooked meals, wrinkled shirts, “too much” makeup.
“What else?”
“Says you dont want kids. Care more about your career.”
“I never said that!”
“You brushed off the idea of starting a family right away.”
She remembered. Hed suggested kids immediately; shed wanted time as a couple first.
“I do want children, James. Just not yet.”
“Mum says thats selfish. Modern women only think of themselves.”
“And you agree?”
Another shrug. “Mums wise. Knows about life.”
“James, youre thirty-two. Cant you decide what kind of wife you want?”
“I can. But why argue with Mum? She means well.”
Katie leaned back, eyes shut. Memories flashedJames consulting his mother on everything: clothes, holidays, even the cars colour.
Shed mistaken control for care.
“So what now?” she asked flatly.
“Mum says postpone the wedding.”
“Postpone or cancel?”
“Cancel. For now.”
“Until what?”
“Until you change.”
Her eyes snapped open.
“Become someone else to please your mother?”
“Just more traditional. Less career-driven.”
“I see. And if I wont?”
His hands spread. “Then were done.”
Oddly, relief washed over herlike shedding a weight.
“Your mums right, James. We *are* mismatched.”
“Waityou agree?”
“Absolutely. You need a wife who obeys your mother. I need a man who thinks for himself.”
“But I *do* think for myself!”
“After running it by Mummy, yes.”
“Dont say that. I respect my elders.”
“James, your mums three years younger than mine. Yet she decides who you love?”
“She wants whats best.”
“She wants you tethered to her. Thats why she finds fault with every girl you date.”
“Rubbish!”
“Then how many serious relationships have you had?”
Silence.
“Four,” he muttered. “But”
“Let me guess,” Katie cut in. “Something was wrong with each. Too flighty, too serious, not pretty, pretty but dim.”
His mouth fell open. “Howd you?”
“Classic mummys boy. Shell never approve anyone who might take you away.”
“Youre wrong. She wants me happy.”
“*Her* version of happy. Not yours.”
He started the car. “Ill take you home.”
They rode in silence. Katie gazed out, dreading telling her mumcancelling vendors, returning the dress, explaining to guests.
Yet instead of heartbreak, she felt free. Like dodging a bullet.
At her door, James hesitated.
“Katie, maybe talk to Mum? Explain yourself?”
“No, James. This is right. Were wrong for each other.”
“But I love you!”
She pitied him. “No. You love the idea of marriage. You dont know *me*.”
“Weve been together eighteen months!”
“And in eighteen months, you never stood up for me. Never said my opinions mattered. Never defended me from her criticism.”
“I hate conflict.”
“Exactly. Easier to agree with Mummy.”
Stepping out, she leaned through the window.
“James, I hope you find someone your mum approves of. Maybe youll all be happy together.”
“The ring?” he called as she walked away.
She slid it off, handing it back. “Return it. Or save it for the next girl.”
Upstairs, she braced for her mums disappointment. Margaret had been so excited.
But home held a surprise. Her mother sat red-eyed, clutching a tissue.
“Mum, whats wrong?”
“Jamess mum called,” Margaret sniffed. “Said the weddings off. That youre not right for them.”
Katie hugged her. “Mum, its for the best.”
“*Best*? He was steady, hardworking! Now what? Youll be alone!”
“Better alone than unloved.”
“Love grows with time!”
“Not with a man like that.”
As Katie explained, Margarets anger faded.
“A mummys boy,” she
