Margaret Williams couldn’t settle herself—today her son, Oliver, was bringing his fiancée home. She’d been bustling about the kitchen since dawn, setting the table with care, leaving nothing to chance. Emily struck her as lovely at once—polite, modest, well-mannered. They sat down to eat, chatting warmly. But after dinner, Oliver walked Emily home and returned an hour later, utterly distraught.
“Son, what’s wrong?” his mother asked, alarmed.
“It’s over, Mum. No wedding. Emily’s left me,” he muttered.
“Left you? Why?”
“Because of you, Mum…”
Margaret froze. Could it be true?
Later, barely holding back tears, she phoned her friend Catherine.
“Cathy, come over… I don’t know how to go on. I’m in my son’s way—I might as well not exist.”
“Stop talking nonsense!” Catherine snapped. “I’ll be there soon.”
She and Oliver had lived together in a modest rented flat. No family home, no relatives to lean on. She’d worked two jobs just to keep them afloat while he grew up, studied, got into university. Life was hard, but they had each other. Only one thing gnawed at her—Oliver never settled down. She longed for grandchildren.
So when Emily came along, her heart swelled with hope. Six months later, Oliver announced they’d filed for a marriage license.
Margaret prepared for their visit like it was a royal occasion. Emily seemed perfect—until she asked over dinner:
“Margaret… how long are you staying here?”
“Staying? I live here.”
“In this flat?” Emily blinked.
“Yes. With Oliver.”
“Right… Sorry, I didn’t realise.”
The evening ended awkwardly. The next day, Emily refused to see Oliver, then called off the wedding entirely. The reason? She wouldn’t live with his mother.
“I’m a burden, Cathy!” Margaret sobbed. “I’d only help—with the house, the baby… She’s pregnant!”
“Listen,” Catherine said firmly. “Your son must live his own life. You’ve been there yourself. He’s a man—he must lead his family, not cling to his mum forever.”
“But I can’t manage alone. Barely any pension, no proper work—”
“Then you’ll manage. Everyone does. And so will you. Let them be happy. Do that, and you’ll have a grandchild, a loving family, your son’s gratitude. Refuse, and you’ll lose everything.”
Margaret made her choice. The next day, she went with Catherine to see Emily.
“Thank you for coming,” Emily said after a long talk. “I couldn’t have said it myself. But… thank you. We won’t abandon you. If you need anything—”
“We?” Margaret faltered.
“Yes. I’m staying with Oliver. I love him. But we’ll live apart. Thank you for understanding.”
The wedding went ahead. Oliver moved in with Emily. And when their son was born, Emily herself invited Margaret to stay—she needed the help.
Now Margaret dotes on her grandson, cooks hearty meals, and one evening, Emily squeezed her hand and whispered:
“Thank you, Mum… I don’t know how we’d manage without you.”
The end.
