“I don’t think your mother likes me. Why? I’ve never done anything wrong to her,” asked Emily.
“Oliver, where are you rushing off to? Eat properly,” Veronica said sternly.
“Mum, I’m late.” Oliver took a big bite of his toast, gulped down his tea, and dashed out of the kitchen.
“You’ll give yourself indigestion,” Veronica muttered, shuffling after him on her short legs. “Off to see your Emily? I still don’t know what you see in her. Charlotte is far more elegant, and she adores you. You’d make such a handsome couple.”
Oliver silently tied his trainers, still chewing the last of his toast.
“Honestly, like a child,” Veronica shook her head. “I’m sure Emily could wait five minutes. The world wouldn’t end.”
“Mum, enough,” Oliver straightened, adjusting his jumper. “It’s my life. I’ll decide who suits me best.”
“Fine, decide then. But don’t come crying to me later when you realise what you’ve lost. A girl like Charlotte won’t stay single forever…” The last words were spoken to a closed door.
Pursing her lips, Veronica shuffled back to the kitchen. She finished the half-eaten toast Oliver had left, staring blankly at the wall. Then, with sudden energy, she began scrubbing the hob. Cleaning was her way of coping with frustration.
When the doorbell rang, she assumed Oliver had forgotten something. But instead of her son, she found Emily standing there, thin and smiling with wide grey eyes—like a child waiting for a promised treat.
“Veronica, hello! Is Oliver—?”
“He left five minutes ago. Did you miss him?” Veronica forced a smile, though it was unclear whether she was pleased to see Emily or secretly glad to disappoint her.
“What a shame. Could you tell him I stopped by? Mum and I are visiting Gran—she’s been hospitalised.”
“Of course I’ll tell him. Why don’t you call him yourself?”
“I tried. His phone’s off.”
Veronica always insisted phones be switched off at home. She claimed the constant ringing gave her migraines.
Twenty minutes later, a gloomy Oliver returned.
“Back so soon?” Veronica asked smugly.
“She never showed. Mum, did Emily come by?”
“Why, was she supposed to?” Veronica feigned innocence. “Anything could’ve happened. Your Emily isn’t going anywhere—she’ll turn up.”
Later, Oliver left for training, while Veronica polished the hob until it shone before heading to the shops. There, she bumped into Charlotte, Oliver’s ex-classmate.
Veronica firmly believed a woman’s beauty mattered, and Charlotte was undeniably stunning—unlike Emily with her waifish frame and big eyes. But Charlotte’s real appeal? Her father worked in city administration. That kind of connection could secure Oliver a prestigious job, a nice flat… He couldn’t be an athlete forever. Veronica wasn’t mercenary, but she wouldn’t leave her son’s future to chance. A smart match made all the difference.
“Charlotte, darling!” Veronica beamed. “It’s been ages since you visited.”
“Hello,” Charlotte sighed. “I would, but Oliver’s taken. He hardly glances my way anymore.”
“Don’t be silly. A girl like you just needs to be persistent. Ask him to the cinema, for a walk!”
“I’ve tried. He’s always busy.”
“Oh, I know what keeps him busy,” Veronica waved her off. “Between us, Emily left town today—said she’d be gone a week. Don’t waste the opportunity. Drop by this evening for tea.”
Charlotte did just that. Veronica tactfully vanished to “put the kettle on,” nodding meaningfully toward Oliver’s room. Charlotte knocked and entered to find Oliver sprawled on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.
“Hey. Ran into your mum earlier—she invited me over. Why so glum? Fancy catching a film? It’s lovely out.”
“Char, I just got back from training. Maybe another time?” Oliver sat up reluctantly.
“Promise?” Charlotte grinned.
She perched beside him, asking about his training, his matches—anything that mattered to Oliver besides Emily. Later, over tea, Veronica hinted Oliver should walk Charlotte home—”a pretty girl shouldn’t wander alone at night.”
***
Emily adored her grandmother. It was why she’d studied medicine—Gran despised hospitals.
“I’ll grow up and treat you myself,” young Emily had vowed. Now, she was in her fourth year at medical school.
The doctor assured her Gran’s high blood pressure wasn’t serious—just a week’s observation. Relieved, Emily packed to leave.
“Where are you off to? It’s term break. Oliver can wait,” Mum muttered.
“Gran’s better now. Stay with her, and once Oliver’s away for his tournament, I’ll come back and take over.”
Mum sighed. “Fine, go. But don’t lose your head over him.”
She thought of her own youthful devotion to Emily’s father—a love that hadn’t lasted. “Maybe Emily will have better luck.”
Emily rushed to Oliver’s, bypassing home.
Veronica answered, her displeasure like a brick wall.
“Oliver’s out. No idea when he’ll be back,” she said thinly before shutting the door.
Emily dialled Oliver again. No answer. She’d meant to surprise him by returning early. She waited on the stairwell, watching the courtyard. An elderly man frowned as he passed.
Just as she considered leaving, Oliver appeared—but so did Charlotte. Emily recognised his ex-classmate. Charlotte flung her arms around Oliver, kissing his cheek—not a friendly peck, but lingering.
Oliver didn’t push her away.
Emily stumbled down the stairs, only to freeze when the front door slammed. She crept back up, eavesdropping as Charlotte’s laughter mingled with Veronica’s cheerful, “Dinner’s ready!”
*She never greeted me like that.*
At home, Emily wept. She regretted leaving Gran, regretted trusting Oliver’s words. The next morning, she returned to the hospital.
Two weeks later, Oliver was away at his tournament. He called repeatedly, but Emily ignored him. She’d seen the truth with her own eyes.
Their eventual confrontation was tense.
“You kissed Charlotte!”
“When?” Oliver was baffled.
“I came back early. Didn’t Veronica tell you?”
“Charlotte was congratulating me—it was just a friendly kiss! I’ve known her since we were kids!”
“Go. Your mother will never accept me.”
At home, Veronica and Charlotte were chatting over tea.
“Oliver, join us! Charlotte baked these lovely biscuits,” Veronica crooned.
“Did you plan this?” Oliver glared at Charlotte. “That kiss—so Emily would see?” He turned to Veronica. “You put her up to it!”
“Oliver, what nonsense!” Veronica gasped.
Charlotte smirked. “It was just a peck. If Emily’s jealous now, imagine later.”
Avoidance became routine. Tournaments, exams, Gran’s relapses—life kept them apart.
***
Fifteen years later…
Oliver coached at a youth sports club, his pro career cut short by injury. His self-defence classes attracted bullied teens and rowdy lads alike.
One day, a scrawny thirteen-year-old, Daniel, joined.
“Mum thought I needed ‘male influence’ since Dad’s not around,” he admitted.
“Smart woman. Where is he?”
“Some Arctic explorer—hero stuff. But I reckon he just left us.”
Oliver chuckled. “Honest. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Daniel attacked like an eager puppy—all passion, no technique.
“You’ve got spirit. But defence needs work. Bring your mum next time—I’ll need her permission and payment details.”
Daniel returned alone with a note: *Mum’s a doctor—too busy.*
Months later, Oliver hosted a parents’ evening. As he spoke, a flustered woman slipped in.
“Dr. Emily Nichols, Daniel’s mum,” she introduced herself.
Oliver recognised her instantly but stayed composed.
After the meeting, they sat alone.
“Hello. Long time,” he said.
“Daniel won’t stop talking about you. Never imagined it’d be you,” Emily replied evenly.
“Great kid. Independent.”
Emily glowed at the praise.
“Daniel mentioned his ‘hero’ dad.”
“What else could I say? Failed marriage, messy divorce. And you?”
“Charlotte lied about a pregnancy. Mum pressured me to marry her. Six months later, we split.”
“Veronica always preferred her.”
“Do you still resent her?”
“No. Becoming a mum made me understand—she just wanted the best for you.” Emily stood. “I should go.”
“Em, I’m sorry. Things got so messed up…”
“What’s the point? I’m glad you’re guiding Daniel.”
“Let me drive you home.”
To his surprise, she agreed.
At her doorstep, he asked to meet again.
“Maybe,” she said.
They took it slow. Emily hesitated to face Veronica, but the older woman welcomed herYears later, as Oliver rocked their newborn daughter to sleep while Daniel proudly showed off his newest wrestling trophy, Emily glanced at Veronica—now lovingly knitting a tiny jumper—and realised that sometimes, the best chapters come after the misunderstandings.
