At last… or is it just the beginning?
When Emily married Jack, she had no idea her future husband was already trapped in a destructive habit. They met in a whirlwind romance, swept up in passion, and within weeks, he proposed—slightly tipsy, his breath smelling of beer:
“Em, love, let’s get married, yeah?” he mumbled, leaning against the doorframe.
“Are you drunk?” she asked, more surprised than angry. After all, she wanted to be married—her friends all had rings.
“Just celebrating,” Jack laughed. “This is a special occasion—I proposed to you!”
“Fine, but on one condition—no drinking except on holidays,” she warned.
“Well, this is my holiday,” he joked.
Young, naive, and in love, Emily didn’t know Jack’s father had been an alcoholic his whole life. His son had long since followed in his footsteps, though his mother, Margaret, protested weakly:
“You’ve ruined yourself, and now you’re dragging him down too!”
“Let the boy grow up a proper bloke,” Jack’s father scoffed, pouring his son a pint at dinner.
After the wedding, the couple moved into Emily’s tiny flat, left to her by her grandmother. At first, things were bearable—Jack worked, came home regularly, though often reeking of alcohol. He always had an excuse:
“Steve’s got a new baby, had to celebrate! It’s Mike’s birthday, you know I had to say a few words… And Dave had us over at the pub—couldn’t say no, could I?”
Then their son, Oliver, was born. But fatherhood didn’t sober Jack up. He came home less often, avoided the baby.
“Why don’t you ever spend time with him?” Emily pleaded.
“Well, you’re the one who says not to breathe beer on him. So I don’t,” he shrugged.
“Then stop drinking! How much longer can this go on?” Tears streamed down her face.
Eight years passed. Alcohol had consumed Jack’s life. He lost job after job. Emily carried the burden alone, with Margaret’s help—buying things for Oliver, lending money when needed.
“Emily’s a saint,” Margaret confided to her sister. “But Jack… he’s getting worse. I barely recognize him.”
Jack became a shadow of himself—haggard, missing teeth, utterly indifferent. No love, no care—just emptiness.
“Leave him,” everyone urged—friends, coworkers, even the neighbors.
But Emily pitied him. Like a stray dog. Until she realized Oliver was watching, absorbing, and now hated being home where trouble lingered.
Finally, she told her mother-in-law:
“Margaret, I can’t do this anymore. I’m filing for divorce.”
“Maybe he can get help?” Margaret whispered. “Maybe it’s not too late?”
“How long did you try fixing your husband?” Emily asked bitterly. “I want Oliver to grow up differently. He’s better off without seeing his father at all.”
Margaret sighed.
“Where will he go? To us, of course. What else can I do?”
But there was another reason. Emily had long felt drawn to a colleague—Daniel. He was new to their office—fit, fair-haired, with striking blue eyes and old-fashioned courtesy. Divorced, no drama, moved to London to be near his dad. The women at work—subtly or openly—tried catching his attention, but Daniel kept his distance.
When Emily filed for divorce, Jack wasn’t even surprised. A few bags by the door, a short conversation—and he was gone. Off to his parents’.
Two weeks later, Daniel stopped her after work:
“Emily, fancy a coffee? Just to talk.”
She nodded, cheeks flushing. They sat in a café, and between light laughter and serious words, he suddenly said:
“I knew straightaway—you weren’t just a colleague. You’re my future.”
From that night, everything changed. There was gossip at work, especially from Kate:
“Well, look at that—our quiet Emily’s stolen Daniel. And here I was, trying so hard…”
Emily just shrugged. She didn’t owe anyone an explanation.
Soon after, Daniel proposed—a modest ring, sincere gaze, and her heart raced again.
On Saturday, she invited Margaret over. The flat smelled of fresh biscuits, tea steaming on the table.
“I have news,” Emily said, her pulse quickening. “I’m getting married. To Daniel.”
Margaret froze. Then… she hugged Emily, tears in her eyes:
“At last… Love, you deserve this. I’ll help with the wedding. We’ll make it perfect!”
As they sat together, discussing dresses, flowers, and guests, Emily realized—she hadn’t just kept a mother-in-law. She’d gained a friend. And Margaret? She’d found the daughter she never had, but loved all the same.
