Emily Taylor

Sarah stood by the open fridge, rubbing her temples. Her husband had eaten everything again.

I Came to Visit Because I Missed You, But My Grown Children Feel Like Strangers – A Mother’s Story of Longing and Disappointment

I came to visit because I missed you, but children feel like strangers now. Parents always worry about

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Make Room, We’re Planning to Live Here for the Next Ten Years: How My Husband’s Relatives Tried to Move into My Flat Without Asking—And Why I Refused to Evict My Tenants for Family Ties

Make Some Room, Well Stay Here for Ten Years For a moment, my mother-in-law fell silent, then she suddenly

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We’re Moving Into Your Flat — Polly’s flat is great, right in the city centre. Freshly renovated — just move in and enjoy! — It’s perfect… for a single girl, — Rusty smiled patronisingly at Anna as though she were a clueless child. — But we’re planning two, maybe even three kids. Straight away, one after another. The city centre’s noisy, there’s no fresh air, nowhere to park. Plus, it’s only got two bedrooms. You lot have three here, plus it’s quiet, with a nursery just outside. — Oh, it really is a lovely area, — agreed Serge, still unsure where his future brother-in-law was going with all this. — That’s why we settled here. — Exactly! — Rusty snapped his fingers. — I keep telling Polly: why struggle with less space when there’s a ready-made solution? There’s too much room for the three of you and your daughter. What do you need all that space for? You don’t even use your spare room — it’s just storage. For us, it would be perfect. Anna was wrestling an unwieldy vacuum cleaner into the tiny hall cupboard. The hoover protested, snagging its hose on coat hangers and absolutely refusing to fit in its allotted space. — Serge, give us a hand! — she called out towards the living room. — Either the cupboard’s shrunk, or I’ve forgotten how to put things away. Serge poked his head out of the bathroom — he’d just finished fixing the tap. Calm, always a bit slow, Serge was Anna’s complete opposite. — Don’t worry, Ann, I’ve got this. Pass it here. He smoothly shifted the heavy thing and tucked it out of sight into the corner of the cupboard. Anna exhaled and leaned against the doorframe. — Tell me again, why do we never seem to have enough space? This flat’s big, three bedrooms and all, but the minute we start cleaning it’s as if our whole life’s overflowing into the street. — That’s because you’re a chronic hoarder, — Serge chuckled. — Why do we have three dinner sets? We only use one, twice a year. — Let them be, they’re memories. It was Gran’s flat, after all. After the wedding, Serge’s parents split the inheritance fairly: their son got this spacious three-bedroom flat in a quiet area — Gran’s flat — and his sister Polly got the two-bedder right in the city centre, in the “golden square”. It worked out roughly the same value. For five years, everyone got along famously, no hard feelings on either side. Anna naively thought it would always stay that way, but… *** They finished tidying, sorted the mess, sat down for a breather. No sooner had they turned on the telly when the doorbell rang. Serge went to open it. — Sis and her fiancé are here, — he called to his wife after peering through the peephole. Polly flitted in first, followed heavily by Rusty. Anna had only met him a couple of times before — Polly found him at the gym about six months back. Anna didn’t like Rusty from the start — too pompous, a bit condescending. He always looked down his nose at both Serge and her. — Heya! — Polly kissed her brother and hugged Anna. — We were just passing, thought we’d pop in. We’ve got news! — Well, do come in, if you’re just passing. News is always good, — Serge gestured towards the kitchen. — Tea? — Just water, thanks, — Rusty traipsed after the host. — We need a proper chat, Serge. Actually, we weren’t just “passing”. It’s about something important. No need to fuss or make tea. Just come sit. Anna suddenly felt anxious — she didn’t like Rusty’s tone one bit. What’s all this about? — Go on, spit it out, — Serge shrugged. Polly pretended not to be in the room at all — engrossed in her phone, leaving Rusty to speak for them. Rusty cleared his throat. — Here’s the thing. Polly and I have set a date. Wedding in three months. Naturally, I have serious plans for us. A family, a long, happy life together. We were talking about our living situation and… We’re moving in here, and you two can swap into Polly’s flat! Anna was gobsmacked. She looked at her husband, then at Polly — but Polly kept on scrolling, as if none of this had anything to do with her. — Rusty, I don’t get it, — Serge frowned. — What are you getting at? — I’m not getting at anything, I’m offering a constructive solution. Let’s swap! We move in here; you lot take Polly’s flat. Pol’s completely on board, we both reckon it’s the fair thing. Anna was gobsmacked all over again. — Fair? — she repeated. — Rusty, are you serious? You waltz into our home and suggest we move out because you’ve decided it’s time for children? — No need to be so dramatic, Anna, — Rusty grimaced. — I’m being realistic. You’ve one child and, as far as I know, no plans for more. So why stretch out in all this extra space? Not practical. Whereas we… we’ve got big plans. — Big plans, have you! — Anna leapt up. — Serge, you hearing this rubbish? Serge raised a hand, signalling for Anna to hold her tongue. — Rusty, maybe you’ve forgotten, but my parents gave me this flat. Just like Polly’s got hers. We spent five years making this place a home, picked out every skirting board ourselves. Our daughter’s growing up here. She’s got her own room, routines, friends in the building. And you think we should up sticks and move to the city centre just because it suits you better? — Come on, mate, — Rusty leaned back insolently. — We’re family. Polly’s your flesh and blood. Doesn’t your sister’s future matter to you? Besides, I’m offering you equal value. You’d get a place in a prime location. Actually, you’re winning out pricewise. I did the maths. — Funny, that, — Serge snorted. — You’re not even married to my sister yet and you’re already eyeing up my flat! Finally, Polly looked up from her phone. — Oh, come on, — she whined. — Rusty just wants the best for us. We’ll be really cramped in my place if we have kids. And your hallway is big enough for five-a-side! Mum always said family comes first. Remember, Serge? — Mum said family should help, not chuck each other out of their homes! — Anna snapped. — Do you even realise what your Rusty’s suggesting? — What’s so bad about it? — Polly batted her eyelashes. — He’s being reasonable. We need it more. You’re not even using your extra room. — It’s not spare! — Anna nearly shouted. — That’s my study! I work in there, have you forgotten? — ‘Work’… — Rusty rolled his eyes. — You post pictures on the internet? Polly says that’s just a hobby. You could perch at the kitchen table with your laptop, it’s not like you’re Lady Muck. Serge stood slowly. — Right, — he said in a low voice. — That’s enough. Time for you both to leave. — Serge, come off it, — Rusty didn’t budge. — We came here to have a sensible, family discussion. — Sensible? — Serge stepped up to the table. — You come here demanding my flat, insulting my wife, deciding where my daughter should live? Do you have any shame at all? — Shame? Serge! — Anna stood at her husband’s side. — It’s sheer greed. The bloke doesn’t even have a ring on your sister’s finger and he’s already divvying up her assets. Polly, do you even realise who you’ve brought into the family? He’ll chuck you out of your own place first chance he gets! — Don’t speak about him like that! — Polly shot up, too. — Rusty cares about me! About ‘us’! And you lot… just greedy, clinging onto your precious rooms. And you call yourselves family! — I’ll tell you who’s greedy — your future husband, — Serge pointed sternly towards the door. — Once and for all: get out. And forget about any flat swap. If I hear about it again, we’re done. No contact, ever. Rusty rose, straightening his shirt collar. Not a flicker of embarrassment — only annoyance. — Suit yourself, Serge. I thought we could be reasonable. But if you want to be stubborn… Polly, come on! Once the door slammed behind them, Anna collapsed onto the sofa. She was shaking. — Did you see that? Did you hear that? — she stared at Serge, wide-eyed. — The nerve! Who even is that guy? Serge was silent, standing at the window, watching Rusty open his car like he owned the place, barking something at Polly. — You know what’s worst? — Serge said at last. — Polly actually thinks he’s right. She’s always been… a bit away with the fairies, but this? — He’s brainwashed her! — Anna burst out. — Serge, ring your mum. Your parents need to hear what their future son-in-law’s really like. — Wait, — Serge pulled out his phone. — I’ll call my sister first. One-to-one. Without the peacock. He dialled. The call rang for ages before Polly, crying, picked up. — Hello, — came the muffled voice. — Polly, listen to me, — Serge’s tone was hard. — Are you with him, in the car? — What does it matter? — If he’s there, put me on speaker. He can hear this too. — I’m not. — Polly sniffled. — He dropped me outside and sped off. Said he needed to clear his head, because my family are all selfish. Serge, why are you all like this? He just wanted everything to be perfect… — Polly, wake up! — Serge almost shouted. — Perfect? He came here to wrangle my flat out of us! Did he even discuss this ‘swap’ with you beforehand? Silence. — No, — Polly whispered at last. — He said he had a surprise for everyone. A way to make things better for all of us. — Some surprise. He decides what’s best for you and me — never even asked. Polly, do you even realise who you’re marrying? He’s a gold digger. Today it’s our flat, tomorrow your car’s too small, and next he’ll be hinting your parents need to give up their cottage so he can get some ‘fresh air’. — Don’t say that… — Polly’s voice shook. — He loves me. — If he did, he wouldn’t be kicking off scandal for no reason. He’s just played us off against each other! Anna’s still in shock. Don’t you see? He wanted to turn us against each other. — I’ll talk to him, — Polly said uncertainly. — Do. And think hard before you head down the aisle. Serge hit disconnect, tossing his phone onto the sofa. — What did she say? — Anna whispered. — Said she didn’t know — Rusty had planned his ‘surprise’. Anna gave a bitter laugh. — Picture it: struts in thinking he owns the place, shifting people like chess pieces. Flats here, people there. Ugh. Makes my skin crawl. — Never mind, — Serge put his arm around his wife’s shoulder. — We’re not giving up our home. End of. But I feel sorry for my sister. She’s going to regret him. *** Serge and Anna’s worst fears didn’t come true — the wedding never happened. Rusty dumped Polly that very night. Polly, in tears, turned up at her brother’s later and told them what had happened. Rusty had returned immediately and started packing. Polly panicked, asking what was going on. Rusty declared he wasn’t about to become related to such selfish people. — Said he doesn’t need relatives like ‘that’, — Polly sobbed. — Said he can’t count on you. Said you wouldn’t even babysit for us when we need a weekend off. And you wouldn’t give us any money, even if we asked. — Oh, Polly, don’t let it get to you! — Anna protested. — You’re better off without him! You can’t count on someone like that. He’ll never care about anyone but himself. Forget him! Polly was upset for a couple of months, but she got over it. She realised the truth in time — and how had she not seen her fiancé’s rotten side before? If she’d married him, she’d have been miserable forever. She’d dodged a bullet — truly.

Were Moving into Your Flat Emilys got a lovely flat in the heart of town. Freshly done upjust move in

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“It Doesn’t Seem Right That Your Children Will Have Homes While My Son Won’t—Let’s Get Him His Own Place with a Mortgage!”

It doesnt look right that your children will have homes of their own, while my son wont. Lets sort him

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Recently I Met a Woman Strolling Down the Street With Her One-and-a-Half-Year-Old Daughter, Entirely Lost in Her Own World – Her Heartbreaking Tale of Love, Marriage, and the Struggles That Followed Forever Changed the Way I See Family Life

Not long ago, I came across a woman strolling down the street with her eighteen-month-old daughter, completely

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Changed His Mind About Getting Married Late Into the Night, Dr. Archibald toiled away in his lab, endlessly transferring mysterious liquids between test tubes and analyzing granulated powders, his mind consumed by the hope that his painstaking research would soon bear fruit—and that he’d finally unveil his “product,” extracted from the roots of a rare English wildflower, to the scientific community. With all the enthusiasm of a dedicated forty-year-old scientist, Archibald barely registered the awestruck gazes from the institute’s new young cleaner, Sophie, who, forgetting her own work, would linger in his office for hours, propping herself on her mop and watching him intently. Driven by his dream, Archibald noticed neither Sophie’s attentions nor her habit of standing quietly behind him, lost in her thoughts until, one evening, she found her courage: “Dr. Archibald, you’ve hardly left your chair all day,” she said, brightening. “Fancy a cuppa? I happened to bring my electric kettle—and some homemade sausages.” At the mention of sausages, Archibald looked up from his experiments. “Tea with sausages, you say? I’d be mad to pass that up.” Sophie beamed as she rummaged through her backpack, producing first the kettle and then a plastic container of delicious-looking food. “Mother sent me some beef mince from the country yesterday,” she explained, her cheeks glowing with pride, “so I made sausages with a bit of pork fat and roasted them.” Archibald peered into the clear tub, putting his glasses back on for a closer look. “How long has this sat in your bag?” he inquired. “Since this morning, I suppose. Why?” Sophie faltered, apprehensive. “And the lid was sealed tight?” “Yes, it was,” Sophie insisted, now a bit anxious. “You think it’s spoiled already? It’s been cold in the staff room—they haven’t got the radiators on yet.” Archibald weighed his doubts. “Best stick to tea for now. Maybe you should take the sausages home.” Angry at the rejection, Sophie scooped away her container, but curiosity got the better of her, and she opened it anyway. “Smells just fine! Oh, you city types—always worrying! If you won’t have any, more for me.” As the kettle boiled, Archibald eyed Sophie as she tucked in voraciously. The warm aroma and her enjoyment tempted him. He reasoned with himself about food safety, the risk of bacteria, and Sophie’s questionable fridge habits, but the British scientist’s willpower failed under hunger’s persuasion. Finally, he caved—one bite led to another, and Archibald found himself in culinary heaven. “Stunning! Did you really make these yourself?” Sophie smiled through happy tears. “Told you—I’ve been cooking since I was a girl!” The humble supper ended with Archibald offering to see Sophie to the bus stop, and the evening set in motion a chain of unexpected events. Archibald, A Forty-Year-Old Scientist, Visits His Young Girlfriend Sophie’s Eccentric Family in a Snowy English Village—Only to Find Himself Questioning Both Love and Marriage The next day, anxiety gnawed at Archibald as a bumpy taxi ride took him and Sophie to her childhood home in the snow-blanketed English countryside—a crooked-roofed old cottage reminiscent of an eccentric BBC drama. Sophie, headstrong and affectionate, tried to reassure him: “Mum’s understanding. And my stepdad will love you; he agrees with everyone.” Archibald fretted about the age difference. “Your mum’s forty-five, I’m forty. Will she even approve?” “She’ll come round!” Sophie insisted, even vowing, in jest, to invent a pregnancy if her mother disapproved. The cottage was as unwelcoming as Archibald had feared. Sophie’s mother, wrapped in a threadbare dressing gown, sized him up sharply, her voice cold. “My little girl’s twenty-three, and you’re twice her age! What’s your game? Looking for a housekeeper?” The tension snowballed into a blazing row involving Sophie’s handsome young stepfather and the whole family, with accusations and furniture flying. Archibald fled into the frosty night, dodging hurled stools and searching the village for any means of escape, ruing the day he ever left his lab for this rural “adventure.” After collapsing from stress and cold, Archibald was nursed back to health by a local medic and Sophie’s unwavering devotion. But as tempers cooled, doubts about love, marriage, and rural English family drama gnawed at him. Archibald found himself longing for the order and coziness of his city flat—and the idea of remaining a confirmed bachelor started to seem far more appealing. A Comedy of Love, Laboratories, and Culture Clashes: When a Middle-Aged London Scientist Visits His Quirky Young Girlfriend’s Eccentric Family in Rural England, He Starts to Rethink His Plans for Marriage

Changed His Mind About Marriage Archibald would stay in his laboratory late into the night, endlessly

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A Baby for a Friend: Lily’s Struggle Against Betrayal, Poverty, and Sacrifice — Her Journey as a Single Mother Surrounded by Greed, Broken Promises, and the Unexpected Power of Maternal Love

A Child for a Friend When Lily was approaching the last months of her pregnancy, her younger brother

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He Set His Sights on Another Man’s Wife Living Together, Dudnikov Revealed Himself to Be Weak and Spineless—His Moods Ruled Each Day, Vacillating Between Bursts of Cheer and Long Stretches of Artistic Gloom. As a Rural School Teacher Teaching Art, Handicrafts, and Occasionally Music, Victor Dudnikov Longed for Creative Fulfillment, Turning the Best Room in His House (Destined for Future Children) into a Chaotic Studio Packed With Easels, Paints, and Odd Sculptures—Much to the Quiet Discontent of His Wife, Sophia. Victor’s “Masterpieces” Filled the Walls and Shelves, Drawing Only Awkward Silence From Visiting Artist Friends—All Except Liver-Soaked Lev Pechersky, Who, After Sampling a Whole Bottle of Rowanberry Liqueur, Declared: “My God, What Absurd Doodles! Nothing Here Worth a Thing—Except, of Course, the Lovely Hostess.” Wounded by Criticism, Victor Erupted in Fury, Lashing Out at His Wife for Her Friend’s Sake. Yet Though Sophia Dreamed of a Family, She Endured His Tempers, Managed the House, the Garden, and Even the Care of His Mother—Until Misfortune Struck Again and Again: Lost Pregnancy, a Deteriorating Marriage, and Her Own Mother Selling the Family Home, Leaving Sophia With Nowhere Else to Go. With Victor Bedridden and Bitter, Refusing Food and Preparing to Divorce, Sophia Was Forced to Sell Their Only Hen at the Village Fair, Desperately Trying to Support Herself—Where She Met Denis, a Kind Stranger With an Eye for Her Husband’s Odd Art and, More Importantly, for Her. Denis Cleverly Returned Each Day, Buying Up Victor’s “Art” Simply to See Sophia, and at Last, Taking What He Truly Wanted—Victor’s Former Wife. Victor, Left Alone and Suddenly Regretful, Realises Too Late That He Has Lost His One True Treasure: the Devoted, Long-Suffering Woman He Never Learned to Love.

Settled My Sights on Another Mans Wife Living together revealed everything I needed to know about Oliver

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Through Thick and Thin: The Story of Antonina, an Early Widow Whose Daughter Moved North, Who Lost Her Village Job and Sold Dairy to Survive, Befriended a New Wealthy Neighbour, Endured an Unhappy Marriage for the Promise of Comfort, yet Found Hope and True Kindness in Her Old Friend Gavril as She Learnt Life’s True Riches Beyond Heartache and Joy

Through Sorrow and Joy Margaret became a widow early, at forty-two. By then, her daughter, Florence