Every woman dreams of finding the right man one day, building a strong family, having kids, and being truly happy. But as they say, fairy tales don’t happen to everyone. And the deeper you love, the harder the fall.
Emily was sure she’d met her soulmate. Back in secondary school, she met Liam—a tall, striking lad with a movie-star smile. He swept her off her feet right away. Friendships turned to moonlit walks, whispered confessions… before long, they were a couple.
Her mum, Margaret Wilson, never warmed to Liam. She saw right through him—lazy, unambitious. But Emily was smitten: to her, he was perfect. She got into uni with flying colours, while Liam barely scraped into college. Schoolwork was a struggle, and he dropped out before long.
“Mum, you just don’t get it! This is real love!” Emily insisted, shutting down any criticism.
When Liam landed a job as a sales assistant at an electronics shop, he acted like he’d hit the jackpot. Never mind that his wages barely covered pints and crisps—he was fine with it. Margaret? Not so much. She tried getting through to her daughter, but it was no use.
The lovebirds had a small wedding. They ended up crashing in a shabby flat with one of Liam’s mates—a cramped place in Manchester, with paper-thin walls and neighbors breathing down their necks. But Emily didn’t care—as long as she had Liam. He coasted through work, barely lifting a finger at home, shrugging off any responsibility. Emily kept borrowing from her mum. Margaret never said no—helping with groceries, clothes, even dipping into her savings.
Every visit from Liam made Margaret’s blood boil. He felt like an outsider, out of place, weak. Not a real man in her eyes.
When things got desperate, Emily begged to stay with her mum for a few months—just to save up for their own place. Margaret agreed reluctantly, but regretted it fast: Liam lazed on the sofa all day while Emily juggled housework, remote gigs, and studies—exhausted but still defending him.
“He’s just tired,” she’d say.
Three months in, Liam cracked under the pressure and talked Emily into moving back to their Manchester flat. Small as it was, at least there were no lectures. Margaret sighed in relief, praying only one thing—that her daughter wouldn’t get pregnant.
But fate had other plans. Liam lost his job. Emily, meanwhile, got promoted, started earning real money. And soon—it was clear. She was expecting.
Margaret was over the moon to be a grandma. But the joy faded fast—she still couldn’t stand Liam. So when Emily, worn out by the cramped flat, asked to stay again, her mum laid down the law:
“Just you and the baby. Liam isn’t setting foot in my house.”
“Mum, he’s my baby’s father!” Emily flared up.
“Did you think of that before marrying him?” Margaret shot back coldly. “He needs to grow up first.”
Emily was torn. On one side—exhaustion, a newborn, no comfort. On the other—pride and anger. She went back to Liam in that tiny flat, hoping her mum would change her mind. But Margaret wouldn’t budge.
To her, Liam was a stranger—not the man she wanted near her daughter or granddaughter. But what can you do? The heart chooses, not the head. A mother’s heart ached, but her answer stayed the same.
Time will tell who was right. For now, two women—mother and daughter—learn to love each other from a distance, accepting choices that don’t match their dreams.
So—what do you think? Did Margaret do the right thing? Or should she have let Liam in for Emily’s sake?
