Why arent you opening the door?
Because I dont want to! Guests should warn you before they visitand they definitely shouldnt go rummaging through drawers, fridges, and wardrobes.
What dyou mean, you wont? Thats my *mother*! Shes here to see *me*!
Well, go greet her, then! Just not in *my* house.
Emily always got on better with my mum.
Yknow, if I started listing all the ways my ex was better than you, wed both be embarrassed.
Not sure about *me*, though, interrupted Natalie, scrubbing at the kitchen table. If you were so happy with Emily, why did you break up?
Victor turned away, offended, and glared out the window.
You already know how that ended
Exactly. So stop bringing up your precious Emily, Natalie snapped. Or Ill be your next ex.
She was dead serious, too.
Shed met Victor about a year ago at a mutual friends gathering. She even knew Emilynot well, but enough. Emily had brought Victor along, then vanished off the radar a few months later.
One night, after a few too many, Victor confessed hed dumped Emily after catching her cheating. He even shed a tear.
At the time, Natalie found it sweeta man unafraid to show his feelings, who valued love. Something clicked in her. She wanted to comfort him.
Looking back, she realised that «something» was probably maternal instinct, not attraction. But it was enough to start a relationship.
In the beginning, it was lovely. Hed meet her after work, drive her home, send sweet messages daily, ask if shed dressed warmly. She felt cherished.
The first red flag came when Emily texted her:
*»Hey. Heard youre seeing Victor. Not my business, but be careful. He and his mum are a package deal.»*
Natalie noted it but brushed it off. Love conquers all, right? Just because it went south with one woman didnt mean it would with her.
*»Thanks for the heads-up, but well figure it out,»* she replied, eager to end the conversation. It felt disloyal to Victor.
Victor, meanwhile, had zero concern for her comfort.
When his mum, Margaret, first dropped by unannounced, Natalie stayed calm. Maybe they just didnt realise how awkward it was. Margaret probably just worried about her son and wanted to see who he was living with.
Natalie sent Victor to greet her, threw on clothes, tied her hair up, andstill half-asleepemerged to meet her potential mother-in-law. Who was already rifling through the living room drawers.
*»Ah, everythings a mess,»* Margaret said with a condescending smile. *»Socksll go missing next. Natalie, after breakfast, Ill teach you how to fold clothes properly.»*
No *»hello»*. Just criticism. Natalie was stunned. A stranger casually digging through her underwear in *her* home felt beyond rude.
But snapping back seemed wrong so early on, so she bit her tongue.
*»Oh, love, those bags under your eyes!»* Margaret tutted. *»You need cucumber slices. Or betterget your kidneys checked. My friend once»*
Natalie nodded along, pretending interest in some strangers ailments while dreaming of going back to bed. It was 8 AM on a *Saturday*. Shed stayed up late, hoping to sleep in.
No such luck.
Margarets visit dragged on till evening. Natalie endured a lecture on flower-watering, bathroom-scrubbing, andyescutlery-polishing. She even got to *practice*. By the end, she felt wrung out like a dishcloth.
And Victor? Not once did he step in or hint they wanted privacy.
*»Your mums always this lively?»* Natalie asked carefully that night.
She wasnt against close families, but boundaries mattered.
*»Yeah. Why? She just wants to bond,»* Victor shrugged. *»Emily and I used to live with herit was fun. Now shes lonely.»*
*»Were not moving in with her, right?»* Natalie sighed.
*»Whats your problem with my mum?»* he snapped. *»Emily got on with her fine.»*
Natalie stayed quiet. Emily was eight years younger and a people-pleaser. Of *course* they got on. She probably knew all Margarets friends by name, ironed bedsheets perfectly, and baked pies to her exact recipes.
Natalie hadnt signed up for that. She had a life. And she knew the fewer outsiders meddling in a relationship, the better. But Victor disagreed.
*»Mums sociable. Gets on with anyone.»*
*»Yeah, but not everyone *wants* that,»* Natalie almost said. She held back.
It got worse. Margaret returned the next morning*early*and inspected the fridge.
*»Chicken eggs? I only cooked quail for Victorbetter for men,»* she announced. *»Shelves are filthy. You *eat* off these, Natalie.»*
(*»I dont lick the shelves,»* Natalie thought.)
*»Ill clean them later,»* she said. *»We were planning to relax today. Its the weekend»*
(Victor, meanwhile, was still asleep.)
*»Weekends are for *chores*,»* Margaret declared. *»Grab a sponge. Next weekend, Ill teach you Victors favourite meat pie. Youll love it!»*
Natalie froze. *»Margaret, maybe take my number? Call before visiting. I might have plans.»*
*»Call? I cant visit my own son now?»*
*»You can. But he lives with *me* now. A little notice would be nice.»*
*»Emily never minded,»* Margaret sniffed.
*»Well, *my* exs mum never barged in at dawn,»* Natalie shot back. *»She brought cherry pie, though. Want the recipe?»*
Margarets face darkened. *»Think carefully, dear. In this family, the nightingale doesnt outsing the lark.»*
She left, but the tension lingered. Victor never listened. His mum treated their place like her own. And Emilys ghost haunted every argument.
*»Emilys cabbage rolls were better. Her mum taught her,»* Victor would muse over dinner.
*»Get *her* to teach you, then,»* Natalie retorted.
She suspected Margaret would poison Victor against her but avoided the topic. She just wanted it gone.
A peaceful month passedthen it happened again. Natalie woke to the doorbell. This time, she refused to answer.
Rude? Maybe. But was it *polite* to ignore her hints and barge in?
Five minutes later, a groggy Victor stormed out.
*»Why wont you open the door?»*
*»I dont want to! Guests should *warn* people. And *not* snoop!»*
*»Its my *mum*! She came to see *me*!»*
*»Then *greet* her! Not in *my* house.»*
The fight that followed probably woke the neighbours. Victor accused her of rejecting his mumand by extension, *him*. Margaret yelled to be let in, called his phone.
Finally, Natalie snapped.
*»Thats it! Either you tell your mum what guest means and send her home, or were *done*!»*
He chose the latter.
Natalie wasnt heartbroken. Theyd never even married. Maybe it was for the best. A man tied to his ex *and* his overbearing mum? No thanks.
Months later, she heard the funniest thing: Victor had a new girlfriend. A mutual friend spilled the tea.
*»She moved in with him *and* his mumalready wants out. Asked to meet *you*.»*
*»Why?»*
*»Well, according to Margaret, youre perfect. Pretty, strong-willed, a great cook.»*
*»…We *are* talking about *Victors* mum, right?»*
*»Guess she only likes the ones who escape him,»* the friend laughed.
From then on, Natalie listened to red flags. She kept her wits but never ignored gossip.
And she *especially* avoided men who waxed poetic about exesor were umbilically attached to their mothers.
Life with a «mummys boy»? No thanks. Mum will *always* come first.
Maybe thats fairbut in *moderation*.
Agree? Let me know your thoughts.
