“Mum, if you get in the way, I’ll leave. For good.”
On her birthday, Charlotte woke up early, prepped vegetables for salads, marinated the meat, peeled potatoes, and headed to the hairdresser’s. When she returned, she dove straight into cooking.
“Happy birthday, Mum! You look gorgeous. The year on your passport must be wrong—you look ten years younger,” said Daniel, still in his boxers, freshly awake, kissing her on the cheek.
“Get dressed and help me. I won’t manage alone,” Charlotte replied.
“Sure, be right there.” Halfway to the bathroom, Daniel paused. “Maybe we should ask Emily? She’s better at this.”
“That’s a good idea. Call her, have her come and help,” Charlotte agreed.
When Daniel returned to the kitchen, clean-shaven and smelling of cologne, Emily was chopping vegetables while Charlotte polished wine glasses.
“Look at you two, working like a team,” Daniel said, stealing a slice of cucumber from the cutting board. Emily turned her face toward him, lips slightly parted, but Daniel pretended not to notice and stepped away. Charlotte noticed. *He’s shy around me*, she thought.
“Daniel, set the table in the living room and use the tablecloth from the top shelf,” Charlotte said, trying to ease the awkwardness.
“On it!” Daniel straightened up, saluting playfully, his damp fringe falling into his eyes. He shook it back with a flick of his head.
“Grown man acting like a boy,” Charlotte laughed.
“Mum, how many guests are coming?” Daniel called from the living room.
“Nine, including us,” Charlotte answered after a moment’s thought.
She’d raised Daniel alone, and look at him now—handsome, responsible. Charlotte had always dreamed of a big, close-knit family. Her father died young, and her husband left three years after Daniel was born. She never remarried. Maybe once Daniel settled down, she’d have that family. Why was he dragging his feet? Twenty-six—plenty old enough. And Emily was lovely, quiet, from a good family. With any luck, they’d marry, she’d have grandchildren… Charlotte smiled to herself.
The meat in the oven was nearly done. Time to boil the potatoes.
“Emily, don’t forget to slice the bread—” The doorbell cut her off.
Charlotte glanced at the festive table, checked her reflection in the hall mirror—hair still intact—yanked off her apron, and opened the door.
Guests trickled in. A few bouquets of roses, their sweet scent filling the air, sat on the coffee table by the window, alongside gift bags and ribbon-tied boxes.
Daniel knew them all: Charlotte’s childhood friend and her husband, the accounting supervisor from work (husbandless, unsurprisingly), another colleague with her spouse. They hovered near the table, chatting, eyeing the spread, waiting for the signal to sit.
But Charlotte hesitated. Daniel understood—she was waiting for someone. Who?
“I’m starving. I might actually drool,” Emily whispered.
“Hold on, Mum’s waiting for someone,” Daniel squeezed her hand.
Finally, the bell rang. Charlotte rushed to answer, returning moments later, arm around a beautiful young woman.
“Everyone, this is Olivia, my old neighbour. I was in Year 9 when she started primary school. Her mum asked me to keep an eye on her. Look at her now—I barely recognised her till she called out!”
“I knew it was you right away. You haven’t changed,” Olivia said, her voice clear and melodic. *She probably sings well*, Daniel thought.
Her simple grey dress hugged her slender frame, her thick, sun-kissed hair cascading in waves. Her smile was warm, effortless.
“Alright, everyone, let’s eat!” Charlotte announced.
Chairs scraped as guests settled in, debating where to start.
Daniel sat across from Charlotte’s colleagues, Emily beside him, Olivia on his other side. Her perfume was subtle, expensive. The men eyed her curiously; the women, warily.
Daniel lifted the wine bottle, arching a brow at Olivia. Their faces were so close, he caught flecks of gold in her irises. She nodded, smiling.
*How old is she? A bit older than me, but Mum said…* He lost count when Emily distracted him. Someone stood for the first toast. Daniel barely listened, thoughts fixed on Olivia. Her scent, her presence—it intoxicated him. Before the toast ended, he clinked glasses with her.
“What about me?” Emily pouted.
Daniel turned reluctantly. She searched his eyes; he looked away. “Want me to serve you? The potato salad or the other one? Mum says it’s great.”
“Whatever,” Daniel muttered, draining his glass.
“I didn’t realise Charlotte had such a grown-up son. Do you work or study?” Olivia asked softly, leaning in.
“Graduated three years ago. Working now.”
“No surprise, with a mum like yours.”
They talked heads nearly touching, elbows brushing. Each contact sent heat rushing through Daniel. He leaned closer, chasing it, but Olivia shifted away.
Emily asked something. Daniel barely heard, annoyed at the interruption. After a few toasts, a pleasant buzz settled in his head.
“Daniel, put music on. Let’s dance,” Charlotte said.
They’d planned this. Soon, upbeat ’90s hits filled the room. The women moved to the sofa; the men stepped out for a smoke. Charlotte cleared plates to “refresh.” Emily helped, acting like the hostess—wife. It irked Daniel.
Olivia lingered uncertainly. He approached her.
“Dance with me?”
She arched a brow but rested her hands on his shoulders. The cramped space left them swaying in place, eyes locked.
The men returned, reclaiming their wives. Crowded, Daniel and Olivia slipped into the hall. She grabbed her coat.
“Leaving already?” Daniel asked, disappointment sharp in his voice.
“Just popped in to say happy birthday. Apologise to Charlotte for me,” Olivia said, stepping out.
Daniel glanced back—Emily’s accusing glare made him bristle. He snatched his jacket and followed.
“Let me walk you,” he said at the curb.
She didn’t argue. “Call a cab? These shoes ruined my feet.”
“I left my phone inside.” He hesitated, ready to bolt back.
“Don’t.” Olivia pulled out hers, recited an address to the driver. Daniel memorised it.
“Three minutes. Go back—your mum’s alone with guests.”
He nodded but stayed. A black cab rolled in. Olivia slid in; Daniel hesitated, then followed.
The ride was silent. In the lift, they avoided each other’s eyes. Inside her flat, he seized her, kissing her hungrily. She kissed back…
He returned home as dawn lightened the sky.
“Where were you?” Charlotte demanded. The table was cleared.
“Walking Olivia home. Why aren’t you asleep?” He avoided her gaze.
“What were you thinking? Emily was in tears! Why humiliate her?”
“Mum, *you* decided Emily was right for me. I don’t want to marry her.”
“Why not? I thought—”
“You thought wrong. I’m an adult. Let me choose.”
“Wait—” Realisation struck. “You were with *Olivia*? If I’d known, I’d never have invited her!”
“Mum, let’s sleep.” Daniel retreated to his room, staring at the brightening ceiling, replaying Olivia’s touch, her scent clinging to him.
Morning brought Charlotte’s raised voice. He listened.
“How could you? He’s young enough to be your— I never expected this from you! Stay away from my son!”
“Who are you calling?” Daniel stepped out.
Charlotte jumped. Her hair was messy, shadows under her eyes. She looked exhausted.
“I told her to back off. You have Emily—” Her voice cracked.
“I don’t have a fiancée. You and Emily decided that.” He sighed, passing her to the bathroom.
“Wait!” She chased him, but he shut the door, drowning her out with the tap.
When he emerged, she sat at the kitchen table, head in hands. Daniel crouched before her.
“Mum, stop deciding for me. It’s my life.”
“Sweetheart—” She reached for him; he dodged.
“I love her.”
“You barely know her! She’s older—”
Daniel stood, towering over her. “If you interfere, I’ll leave. For good.”
“Fine. Let’s at least have breakfast.” Charlotte sighed, pulling cake leftovers from the fridge.
After, Daniel got ready to leave.
“Where? To *her*?” Charlotte grabbed his wrist.
“Mum,” he gently pried free, “I love you. You’re the best. But I can’t live without her.”
“Don’t come home too late. Work tomorrow,” she sniffled.
“It’ll be okay.” He left.
Olivia opened the door instantly, unsurprised, studying him.
“Charlotte said I should—”
“Forget it.” He pulled her close.
Meanwhile, Charlotte paced, wringing her hands.Charlotte smiled to herself months later, cradling her granddaughter while Olivia and Daniel bickered over baby names, the warmth in the room proof that love, in the end, had woven them all together.
