«Why wont you open the door?» «Because I dont want to! Guests should call ahead, not rummage through my cupboards, fridge, and wardrobes.» «What do you mean, you wont? Thats my mother! She came to see me!» «Fine, then you go greet her. But not in my house.»
«Emily always got on better with my mum, you know.»
«Do you really want me to list all the ways my ex was better than you? Itd be embarrassing for both of us.»
«Though Im not so sure about myself,» snapped Sophie, scrubbing the kitchen table harder. «If you and Emily were so perfect together, why did you break up?»
James turned away, scowling out the window.
«You already know the story.»
«I do. So stop bringing up your precious Emily,» Sophie shot back. «Unless you want me to be your next ex.»
She was dead seriousready to walk away if she had to.
Shed met James nearly a year ago through mutual friends. Shed even known Emily, though not well. Emily had been the one to bring James along in the first place, then vanished from the group a few months later.
One night, after too many pints, James had confessed hed dumped Emily after catching her cheating. Hed even shed a tear.
At the time, Sophie found it endearinga man unafraid to show his feelings, who valued love. Something inside her clicked, stirring a protective instinct.
Looking back, she realised it wasnt attractionjust maternal sympathy. But it had been enough to start something between them.
At first, it was lovely. Hed meet her after work, drive her home, send sweet texts, ask if shed dressed warmly. She felt cared for.
Then Emily messaged her.
«Hey. Heard youre seeing James. Not my business, but be careful. Him and his mum are a package deal.»
Sophie noted the warning but brushed it off. Love conquered worse, didnt it? Just because things went badly with one woman didnt mean they would with another.
«Thanks, but well figure it out,» she replied, ending the conversation. It felt wrong to entertain it behind Jamess back.
James, meanwhile, didnt extend the same courtesy.
When his mother, Margaret, first turned up unannounced, Sophie stayed calm. Maybe they didnt realise how awkward it was. Maybe Margaret just worried about her son and wanted to see who he lived with.
Sophie nudged James to greet her, threw on clothes, tied her hair up, and shuffled outsleepy and puffy-eyedto meet her potential mother-in-law. Margaret was already rifling through the living room drawers.
«Everythings a mess,» Margaret sighed, smiling condescendingly. «Socks wont match like this. Sophie, after breakfast, Ill teach you how to fold clothes properly.»
No «hello,» just criticism. Sophie froze. A stranger was casually handling her underwear in her own homehow was that not rude?
But snapping back felt wrong, so she bit her tongue.
«Goodness, those under-eye bags!» Margaret tutted. «You need cucumber masks. Or a kidney check. My friend had the same»
Sophie nodded along, pretending interest while wishing she could crawl back into bed. It was 8 a.m. on a Saturdayshed stayed up late to sleep in.
Margaret stayed until evening, doling out «advice» on flower care, bathroom scrubbing, and polishing cutlery. Sophie even got a hands-on lesson. By the end, she felt wrung out.
And James? Didnt lift a finger or hint they needed space.
«Is your mum always this involved?» Sophie asked carefully that night.
She didnt mind close families, but boundaries mattered.
«Sure. Shes just being friendly.» James shrugged. «Emily and I used to live with herit was lively. Now shes bored alone.»
«Please tell me we wont be moving in with her,» Sophie groaned.
«Whats the problem? You dont like my mum?» James tensed. «Emily got on brilliantly with her.»
Sophie stayed quiet. Emily had been eight years younger, eager to please. Of course they got on. She probably memorised Margarets friends names, medical histories, and starched sheets just right.
But Sophie hadnt signed up for that. Experience taught her that fewer meddlers meant healthier relationships. James disagreed.
«My mums sociable. Gets on with everyone.»
«Not everyone wants that,» Sophie almost said, but didnt.
It got worse. Margaret returned the next morning, inspecting the fridge.
«Chicken eggs? I only cook quail for Jamesbetter for men,» she declared. «These shelves are grimy. You eat off them, you know.»
«I dont lick the shelves,» Sophie thought.
«Ill clean them later,» she said. «We were hoping to relax today. Its the weekend.»
James, of course, was still asleep.
«Relax? Weekends are for cooking and cleaning!» Margaret snapped. «Grab a sponge. Next weekend, Ill teach you Jamess favourite meat pie. Youll love it!»
Sophie crossed her arms. She wasnt playing maid on command.
«Margaret, maybe text before visiting? So we can plan around it.»
«Text? I cant visit my own son?» Margaret looked wounded.
«You can. But he lives with me now. We should respect each others space.»
«Emily never minded,» Margaret sniffed.
«Well, my exs mum never barged in at dawn. She brought cherry pie, actually. Want the recipe?»
Margarets face darkened. Wrinkles deepened. Anger flashed in her eyes.
«Think carefully, Sophie. The nightingale doesnt out-sing the lark.»
She left, but the tension lingered. James never listened. Margaret treated their home as hers. And Emilys ghost haunted every conversation.
«Emilys cabbage rolls were better. Her mum taught her,» James would muse over dinner.
«Maybe her mum can teach you, then,» Sophie retorted.
She suspected Margaret would poison James against her but avoided the topic. She just wanted it gone.
A month passed peacefullyuntil the doorbell rang early again. This time, Sophie refused to answer.
Harsh? Maybe. But after clear hints, barging in uninvited was worse.
Five minutes later, a bleary-eyed James stormed out.
«Why wont you open the door?»
«I dont want to! Guests should call first. And keep their hands off my things.»
«What? Thats my mother!»
«Then go meet her. Not in my house.»
James exploded. The neighbours probably heard. He accused Sophie of rejecting him by rejecting his mum. Margaret yelled outside, demanding entry, ringing nonstop.
Finally, Sophie snapped.
«Enough! Either you explain what guest means and send her home, or were done.»
James chose the latter.
Sophie wasnt heartbroken. Theyd never even married. Maybe it was for the best. Living with a man obsessed with his ex and smothered by his mum? No thanks.
Months later, Sophie heard newsJames had a new girlfriend. A mutual friend shared it.
«We work together. She moved in with him and his mum but already wants out. Asked to meet you.»
«Oh? Why?»
«According to Margaret, youre perfect. Beautiful, strong-willed, a great cook.»
«Were talking about the same Margaret, right?»
«Guess she only likes you once youre gone,» the friend laughed.
From then on, Sophie listened more carefully to gossipnot blindly, but not dismissively either.
And she steered clear of men who worshipped their exes and their mums.
With those types, happy endings were rarebecause Mum always came first. Maybe thats right, but in moderation. Agree?
Let me know your thoughts in the comments. And dont forget to like!
