Love, Mother-in-Law, and Artificial Intelligence
“Mum, why do you always try to ruin my relationship with Emily?” James’s voice trembled with frustration, though he fought to keep it steady.
“Because she isn’t right for you, James!” Margaret replied firmly, pressing her lips together and crossing her arms.
“Have you even listened to yourself? Emily and I love each other! It’s not just words—it’s real!”
“Real?” His mother scoffed, avoiding his gaze. “She isn’t capable of real feelings. And you know it.”
“No, I don’t!” James raised his voice. “You’ve always told me to find someone kind, loyal, clever, who keeps a good home. Well? Is she not pretty enough?”
“Pretty enough…” Margaret muttered reluctantly.
“Is our flat clean? Yes. Does she respect you? Absolutely—she’s never spoken back. She’s smarter than me, understands tech better, reads more. So what’s the problem, Mum?”
“The problem,” she said, standing abruptly, her chair scraping back, “is that your Emily isn’t human, James.” The little coffee table wobbled, knocking over the teapot and the biscuits Emily had neatly arranged. “She’s a product! A program! Wires and metal wrapped in smooth skin and shiny eyes!”
“Mum—”
“Don’t interrupt!” she snapped. “This… woman… she doesn’t age, doesn’t fall ill, never argues! She’s perfect by design! Removable parts, solar charging, built-in temperature control! Don’t you see? You’ve traded something real for a gadget!”
Her old corgi, Winston, yapped at her feet in agreement.
“Of course she smiles at you—she’s programmed to! She never rolls her eyes, never snaps, never shouts. She isn’t real, James! And you… you chose an illusion.”
He said nothing. Then, with a deep breath, he walked to his room.
The next morning, heart pounding, Margaret stood on the balcony, watching couples stroll below. Her son’s words echoed: “We love each other.”
That afternoon, she visited the android manufacturer’s website. Her fingers shook as she scrolled. Finally, she chose: William. Six-foot-one, dark eyes, “empathy mode,” “active listening,” “extra-soft embrace arms.” Expensive—very. But wasn’t her son’s happiness worth it?
Three weeks later, the delivery arrived. A huge box sat in the living room. Inside—him. Her William. His eyes glowed gently; his voice was warm, as if he’d known her for decades.
“Mum, seriously?” James stared as William lounged on the heated sofa.
“Why not?” Margaret said calmly. “I’ve had enough misery. You live with an android—now so do I.”
“Mum…” James ran a hand through his hair. “This is ridiculous!”
“Ridiculous?” She smirked. “No more than your Emily. At least he doesn’t argue. And his coffee’s better than any barista’s!”
“But what about feelings? Warmth? A soul?”
“You made this choice first. Or do you have double standards, son?”
Later, in the kitchen, James tried again.
“Mum, I get it—you’re trying to prove a point. But do you really think this solves anything?”
“I think we’re both tired of hurt. Of disappointment. I’ve been alone so long. Now, at least, someone asks about my day, tucks a blanket over me…”
“But it’s not real. It’s like replacing me with a copy.”
“You did the same, Jamie. We’ve both chosen convenience over complication. At least I’m honest about it.”
“So what now?”
“Now, we eat. William made lasagne. Emily will approve.”
That evening on the balcony, under the hum of the city, Margaret stood beside William, his hand in hers. Inside, James boiled the kettle while Emily updated her software.
Sometimes love takes strange shapes. But in the end, isn’t warmth what truly matters?
