Everything Happens for the Best Margaret Bennett was a strong-willed, successful mother determined to mould her daughter, Emily, in her own image. Margaret believed unwaveringly in her own path, insisting Emily follow her advice in all things, no exceptions. “Emily,” Margaret would declare sternly, “if you want to achieve as much as I have, you must stick to the path I set for you. Not a single step off it—is that clear?” “Yes, Mum,” Emily always replied. Emily loved her mother and wanted to please her, so she obeyed. Margaret, meanwhile, dreamed of her daughter becoming a picture of perfection. But the older Emily grew, the harder that became. Children will be children—Emily spilled things, tore things, fell, and broke things. But she was always top of the class, knowing a single ‘C’ would be a disaster at home. “Emily, that’s disgraceful—a ‘C’! Don’t you respect your father and me? Fix it, and don’t bring shame to the family,” Margaret would admonish. “Okay, Mum… it was just one ‘C’…” “It doesn’t matter. You must always be the best.” Worried but dutiful, Emily always made up for mistakes, and finished school with straight A’s—there was simply no other option. Margaret beamed when her daughter easily got into university. “Well done, darling—I’m proud of you. Keep it up.” Margaret ran her own construction business—tough in a man’s world, but she was sharper than many businessmen. No doubt her daughter would join the family business after university. Emily longed to be free of her mother’s control, maybe even attend university in another city—but that wasn’t going to happen. “You’ll study here where I can keep an eye on you,” Margaret insisted. “There’s a perfectly good university in Brighton.” Of course, Emily didn’t argue. But on her third year at university, she met Tom—a charming, blue-eyed classmate in a different group. He wasn’t as academic, and loathed coursework, so one day he asked her for help. “Emily, could you help me with my coursework? I’m swamped…” “Of course,” she agreed eagerly. She ended up writing Tom’s coursework, and he repaid her in affection, letting her love him. Their romance blossomed: dates, cinema, cafes. Margaret soon sensed something was up. “Are you in love, Emily?” “How did you know?” “It’s written all over your face. Bring him round—I want to know what kind of boy he is.” Emily brought Tom home; her parents welcomed him, and Margaret held back her criticism. But after he left, Margaret couldn’t help herself. “That boy is using you. He’s not very bright—what do you see in him?” “That’s not true, Mum,” Emily protested for the first time. “Tom is ambitious and well-read—just because he’s not like you doesn’t mean he’s not special.” “He’s not right for you,” Margaret insisted. “Sorry, Mum, but no matter what you say, I’m going to keep seeing him. I love him.” Margaret looked at her daughter, disgruntled. “You’ll see—one day you’ll realise he’s nothing special.” Emily stood her ground, and after graduation, married Tom. She was glad her mother was wrong about him. Life, as it happens, showed that even “average” students can excel. Tom quickly found a great job, while Emily remained working under her mother’s wing. Tom had his own flat—his parents’ gift—so Emily was delighted to have her own space. But Margaret made sure Emily continued working for her. One day Tom came home and shared, “Emily, I’ve been promoted to department head! Probationary for now, but I’ll prove myself.” He soon got the job permanently. Tom hated, though, that Emily with her shiny degree still worked for her mum. “You’ll never get anywhere working for your mother, Emily. It’s time to break free. Otherwise, you’ll always be under her thumb. She’s a tyrant, and you’re just letting it happen.” It hurt to hear, but Emily knew he was right. Eventually, Tom stopped reprimanding her, but became withdrawn. Emily didn’t mind—he was still there. Another year passed, then one day Tom quietly said, “I’ve met someone else. I love her. I’m leaving you. She’s everything you’re not…” For the first time, Emily snapped. She shouted, sobbed, smashed a plate, and even hurled Tom’s phone at the wall. Then she calmed down. Tom, watching silently, muttered, “So you do have a backbone—I wish I’d seen it sooner.” Then he left. “I hate you,” she whispered, gathered her things, rented a flat, and left. She told Margaret nothing, dreading her mother’s response. For over a month, she kept up the charade, but Margaret soon noticed something was wrong. “What’s the matter? You look lost. Is it Tom?” “No more Tom, Mum.” “I knew it—he’s left you. When did it happen?” “April.” “And you never said a word?” Emily sighed and endured her mother’s tirade about Tom and her own shortcomings. “At least you’re not his servant anymore. Lucky you don’t have a child. Next time, listen to my advice, alright?” “Mum, everything happens for the best,” Emily replied, and added, “And I’m done working for you. I’ve had enough,” before walking out, leaving Margaret stunned. Emily decided to put serious distance between herself and her mother, knowing she’d never escape Margaret’s “mentoring” otherwise. Walking aimlessly, she caught a tram, and on alighting, tripped into a pothole. “Just what I need,” she thought wryly as she sat down in pain. A passing young man hurried over, “Are you alright?” He helped her up; her ankle hurt. “Need a lift to the hospital?” he offered. “I’m Jack, by the way. And you?” “Emily.” At the hospital, they learned it was only a sprain—no fracture. Jack stayed the whole time, drove her home, and asked for her number, “In case you need anything.” She gave it. The next day, Jack called. “Need anything from the shops? How’s the ankle?” “Juice, some fruit… oh, and some bread, please.” Soon, the doorbell rang—Jack arrived with two big bags. “Why so much?” “Well, we’ve got to celebrate our meeting! If you don’t mind, I’ll sort the food, and shall we ditch the formalities…?” Emily burst out laughing, completely at ease. Jack prepared a nice meal, heated up some food, poured the juice (he didn’t drink alcohol), and they had a wonderful evening. Four months later, Emily married Jack. A year after that, baby Chloe was born. When people asked Emily where she found such a great husband, she laughed and said, “He picked me up off the street! Don’t believe me? Ask him!” Thank you for reading, subscribing, and for your support. Wishing you the very best in life.

Everything Happens for the Best

Margaret was the mother of Emily and had always moulded her daughter in her own image, a pattern Emily followed without question. Margaret considered herself a strong, successful woman, and so insisted that Emily follow her guidance to the letter.

Emily, Margaret would say sternly, if you want to achieve the sort of results I have in life, you must walk the path I set for youdont stray for a moment. Have I made myself clear for life?

Yes, Mum, Emily would reply.

Emily adored her mother and tried not to disappoint her by doing her best to listen to every word. Her mother, in turn, wished nothing but perfection for her daughter. But the more Emily tried, the more mistakes she seemed to make.

Children will be children, and Emily was no exceptionspilling things, tearing her clothes, falling and coming home with scraped knees. But academically, she was brilliant. Thats because she knew if she got even a C, it would be a full-blown disaster for her mother.

Emily, shame on you. How could you get a Cdont you have any respect for your father and me? Dont embarrass us; sort it out, quickly.

All right, Mum, Emily would answer quietly, perhaps trying to protest, But Mum, its just the one C, it just happened

Thats not the point, love You must be better and cleverer than anyone else.

Emily worried, but always managed to bring her marks up again. She finished school with flying colours, a gold Medallion to show for her effortsanything less simply wouldnt have been tolerated. Margaret was delighted when her daughter gained admission to university without trouble.

Well done, my girl, Im proud of you, said her mother one day. You must keep on at this pace.

Margaret ran a construction businessan unusual field for a woman, yet she managed it with such skill and determination that even her male counterparts took notice of her iron will. She never doubted for a moment that, after university, Emily would work alongside her.

Of course, Emily longed to break free, to breathe more freely. Shed dreamt of going to university in another city, but that was wishful thinking.

Emily, you need to be under my watchful eye, her mother declared briskly. What do you mean, another city? We have a perfectly good university here, youll stay and study at home.

Naturally, Emily didnt argue. In her third year, she fell hopelessly in love. She had dated here and there, even sneaking out when she could, but it was never serious.

Henrycharming, with sparkling blue eyes and golden hairwon her heart completely. He studied in a parallel group, also in the third year. Emily excelled in her classes, while Henry struggled, especially with essays. One day, he stopped Emily in a university corridor.

Emily, could you help me with my essay? Im tearing my hair out here

All right, Id be happy to, she responded, secretly thrilledshe really fancied Henry.

From then on, Emily was constantly writing papers for him, and in return, he gave her his affection and let her love him. They went on dates, strolled through the park, saw films, and visited cafés.

Margaret sensed something and confronted her daughter, point-blank.

Emily, have you fallen in love?

How did you know? Emily was surprised.

Its written all over your face Bring him round, I want to know exactly what sort of character he is.

Emily invited Henry over; her parents met him, and he made a good impressioneven Margaret refrained from criticism. When hed left, Margaret said,

What love? Emily, that lad is simply using you, thats all. He isnt the sharpest knife in the drawer; theres nothing to talk about with him. What do you see in him?

Thats not true, Mum, Emily protested for the first time. Henry is ambitious and well-read; he loves history. Youd overwhelm anyone with your intellect, anyway. Not everyones the same, and hes still young.

Hes not right for you, her mother insisted.

Emily finally stood her ground.

Mum, Im sorry, but whatever you say about Henry, Im going to keep seeing him. I love him.

Margaret looked at her, surprised, and waved her hand in exasperation.

One day youll see, your Henry is as dull as dishwater.

Despite everything, Emily stuck to her resolve and, after graduating, married Henry. She felt vindicated; her mother had been wrong about him.

It turned out that average students could move up in the worldsometimes more easily than star pupils. So it was with Henry. After university, he landed a prestigious position, while Emily worked under her mothers wing.

Henry already owned a flathis parents had gifted it to him while he was studyingso after their wedding, Emily was thrilled to finally escape her mothers overbearing presence. But her happiness was short-lived. Margaret got her a job at the family firm.

One evening, Henry came home and said,

Em, Ive just been made department manageron a probation period, mind, but Ill give it my all and make them glad they picked me.

And he did; three months later, the promotion was made permanent. Yet Henry chafed at Emily working for her mum.

Emily, working for your mother, youll never make anything of yourself. Its time you freed yourself from her influence, he complained. Are you going to grovel to her your whole life? She smothers youand shes an absolute dragon. You need some backbone.

Emily was hurt to hear this from him, but deep down she knew he was right. Eventually, Henry gave up chiding her, but it brought no comfort; he became more withdrawn and indifferent, which suited Emily fineat least he was quiet and still by her side.

About a year later, Henry came home one evening and, barely above a whisper, said,

Ive met someone else. I love her. Im leaving you. Shes everything youre not

For the first time in her life, Emily lost control. She shouted, cursed, even shattered a plate and hurled Henrys phone against the wall, tearing a couple of his shirts before she composed herself.

He watched in silence, then finally said,

So you do have some spark in you after all. Shame I had to find out so late, and with that, he left.

I hate you, I hate you, Emily muttered as she packed her things, rented a flat, and moved out.

She said not a word to Margaret, knowing exactly what shed say. For a whole monthperhaps moreEmily managed to keep her situation under wraps, but her mother had a knack for sensing these things.

Emily, whats wrong? You look half-dead and listless. Are there problems with Henry?

What makes you say that? There arent any problemsbecause theres no husband to have them with.

Oh Lord, I knew it. Hes left youwhen did this happen?

Back in April.

And youve said nothing till now?

Emily gave a resigned sigh. She sat quietly while her mother launched into a fresh diatribe against Henry, and against Emily herself.

I warned you, at least now youre not his skivvy, and its a relief you have no child together. From now on, youd best listen to my advice. Understood?

Mum, everything happens for the best, Emily suddenly retorted, standing up. And by the way, Im done working for youfed up with the lot of it She strode out, leaving Margaret baffled.

Emily resolved to get as far from her mother as possible. She knew Margaret would now launch daily tirades, resume lecturing her, and keep her on a leash.

Walking aimlessly and lost in thought, she eventually boarded a tram and, alighting at her stop, immediately twisted her ankle in a pothole. She collapsed in pain.

Oh, thats all I need she thought, wincing.

Are you alright there? asked a young man whod seen what happened as the tram pulled away. He helped her up; she could barely put weight on her foot.

Does it hurt? he asked sympathetically.

A lot, she grimaced.

No worries, pop your arm round my shoulder, he said, gently lifting her towards his car. Were off to hospital, just in case its broken

Im John, and you are?

Emily.

At the hospital, the doctor confirmed it was only a sprain. Her ankle was tightly bandaged and she was given thorough advice before being discharged. All that while, John waited for her and then drove her home.

Would you mind giving me your number? he asked courteously, just in case you need anything.

Emily obliged, and the following day John rang.

Tell me what you needyour ankle surely isnt better yet, is it?

Some juice and fruit would be nice, and Im out of bread, she admitted.

A little later the door rang. Emily hobbled over and opened it to find John balancing two bulging shopping bags.

Oh my goodness, thats a heap!

Well, were going to celebrate our meetingif you dont mind. Ill handle everything, if youll let me. May I call you Emily?

Emily laughed; she didnt mind at all. She found being with John easy and relaxing.

John set the table, warmed up a bit of roast, poured juice into glasses. He mentioned, right off, that he didnt really drink. The evening was brilliant.

Four months later, Emily and John were married, and a year after that their daughter, Pippa, was born. Whenever people asked how shed found such a wonderful husband, Emily would chuckle,

He picked me up off the street! Dont believe me? Ask him yourself

Thank you for reading, subscribing, and for your support. All the best to you in life.