“Mum, don’t marry him.”
“Mum, Liam’s asked me to move in with him,” Emily began cautiously after dinner.
“And where will you live?” her mum asked after a brief pause.
“He’s got his own flat. His dad bought it when he started uni.”
“Aren’t you rushing things? You’ve still got a whole year left of uni. What if you get pregnant?” Her mum turned off the tap, dried her hands on a tea towel, and faced Emily.
“I get it—you raised me alone, and you’re scared I’ll repeat your mistakes, that you’ll end up completely on your own…” Emily couldn’t tell if her mum was against it or not.
“You’re old enough to make your own choices. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got a man.”
“I had a feeling. Why haven’t you ever mentioned him or introduced us?” Emily asked curiously.
“I don’t know.” Her mum lowered her eyes. “I was scared, I suppose. The thing is… he’s younger than me.” She looked up at Emily.
“So what? That’s trendy now. Does that mean you don’t mind?” Emily jumped up and hugged her.
At first, she called her mum every day, often popping round in the evenings. Emily still had a key but now rang the bell. One day, an attractive young man answered the door. His fitted t-shirt showed off toned arms and chest.
“The daughter’s here,” he said with a wide, white-toothed grin.
“Daughter? Not yours,” Emily muttered, stepping inside.
Her mum was cooking dinner. She looked different—healthier, dressed in white joggers and a pink crop top instead of her usual cosy dressing gown.
“Max, we need to talk,” her mum said when he walked into the kitchen.
“Got it. You girls chat,” he smirked, dark eyes glinting.
“Mum, he’s at least fifteen years younger than you. You look great, but it’s still obvious,” Emily whispered once he’d left.
“You said yourself it’s fashionable.” Her mum smiled.
Emily barely recognised her. Always so reserved, now she grinned constantly like a lovesick teen. And the clothes…
“So that’s why you never introduced us? What’s next—don’t tell me you’re marrying him?” Emily said, stunned.
“What if I am? Would you mind?”
Emily opened her mouth, but her mum cut her off.
“We haven’t talked about it yet. I’ve never felt like this before—like I’ve grown wings! I’m so happy.” She gave a guilty smile. “And you? No fights with Liam?”
“No fights. I should go—he’s probably wondering where I am.”
Emily walked home upset. She felt out of place in her mum’s flat now.
“What’s wrong?” Liam asked when she got back.
“Guess what—Mum’s in love,” Emily said, kicking off her shoes.
“So? She’s still young. Or is he too old? Ugly? An ex-con? I don’t see the problem. She’s not alone—that’s good.”
Emily glared at him like he’d betrayed her.
“Max is practically your age and looks like a Hollywood actor. Of course she’s smitten—young, handsome. But him? He’s just using her. No way he loves her.”
“Love’s blind. Or are you jealous? Maybe you fancy him?” Liam teased. “Careful, I’m the jealous type. I’ll challenge him to a duel.”
Emily rolled her eyes.
“Always with the jokes. I’m not jealous. I just don’t get what he wants with an older woman. There’s loads of younger girls—he could have anyone.”
“Maybe he really loves her. Or maybe he’s after her flat,” Liam joked.
“We’re not rich. A thin gold chain, earrings, a fake diamond ring—hardly worth scamming her over.”
“The flat, then. Property’s always valuable.”
“But Mum said he hasn’t proposed. They’ve not been together long. How would he get the flat? Unless he kills her—and then he’d have to kill me too.”
“Relax, Em. She’s in love. I doubt they’ll even marry. Your mum’s sensible.”
“That’s the problem—she’s not acting sensible! That dopey grin, the teenage clothes… He’s turning her into someone she’s not.”
“She’s your mum—you don’t see her as a woman. Let her be happy. You wouldn’t like it if she forbade us being together.”
“You’d say that—she’s not your mum. Wait till he breaks her heart—or worse.”
“I don’t have a mum. If I did, I wouldn’t interfere.”
“Sorry.” Emily winced. Maybe he was right. Could this actually be love?
They dropped it, but unease lingered. Days later, Emily visited her mum again, hoping to dig up info on Max. She found his socials—full of gym selfies and party pics, surrounded by young women.
This time, her mum didn’t seem thrilled to see her.
“You’re not happy I’m here?”
“Don’t be silly. I just thought it was Max.” Her mum wrapped herself in a baggy jumper like she was cold.
“Are you ill? You look pale.”
“I’m fine. Want tea?”
“Yeah. Where’s Max?” Emily asked, feigning indifference.
“Still at work—late training session. He’s a fitness trainer.”
*Of course he is.*
“So that’s where you met.”
Her mum seemed distracted, fumbling with the teacups. When the kettle whistled, she frantically twisted all the hob dials.
“Mum, are you alright?”
No answer. She poured the tea but didn’t drink.
“Mum?!”
“Fine. It’s just… I went to Max’s club. All these young girls there. He said I should get a breast lift—that they sag. And my face…”
“Max *said*—Mum, wake up! If a man picks at your looks, he doesn’t love you. He’ll leave anyway—why risk surgery? People die from botched ops!”
“Stop. I don’t meddle in your life—don’t meddle in mine. I love him. I want to keep him, even if it’s temporary. What have I had in life? Your dad left. I raised you alone. Max makes me feel wanted. You’ll understand when you’re older. Would you change for Liam?”
“That’s not fair. I just don’t want to lose you. Promise me you won’t rush into this?”
“What’s all this?” Max strode in, flashing a dazzling smile.
Her mum turned to him with a simpering grin. Emily felt sick.
“We lost track of time,” her mum said.
“I’ve got to study.” Emily slipped past Max, hoping her mum would follow—but she didn’t. Emily slammed the door.
“Love’s like chickenpox—harder to handle the older you get. Let your mum be happy,” Liam said when Emily told him.
“What if she dies?”
“What can we do? Ban her? Hire a hitman?” He smirked.
“I’m serious!”
“Em, sorry.” He nuzzled her cheek.
Calls to her mum went unanswered—Max was always there. Then one day, her mum rang: “I’ve had tests. Getting my breasts done tomorrow.”
“You’re at the hospital already?”
“The surgeon’s done hundreds of these. No risk.”
Emily was just glad it wasn’t her face. “Call me after.”
All next day, she waited. No answer. Finally, a nurse picked up: “She’s sleeping. All’s fine.”
Fine?
“She’s *sleeping*. Chill out,” Liam said.
“I’ve got a bad feeling. Let’s go to hers.”
“Why?”
“Max could be up to anything. Stay if you want.” She grabbed her coat. He followed.
No one answered. Emily tried her key—deadlocked. She kicked the door until Max opened it, robe barely covering his bronzed chest.
Em gaped. Liam shoved past.
“Took you long enough.”
“I was asleep. What do you want? Olivia’s in hospital.”
“You talked her into surgery and just napped? Let us in!”
Max tried slamming the door, but Liam wedged his foot in. As they struggled, Emily rammed it open.
Inside, a blonde girl lounged naked on the bed.
“Third wheel? More the merrier,” she laughed, spotting Liam.
“Ring the police! You broke in!” Max blustered.
“Do it. I live here—*you’re* the trespasser!” Emily snapped.
“We’ve applied for a marriage licence. Soon I’ll be your stepdad.”
“Come on.” Liam tugged Emily.
“No way! A licence isn’t wedding vows. Get dressed and *leave*!” she barked atEmily’s mum eventually found solace in the quiet steadiness of their neighbor, George, who had loved her all along, proving happiness often hides in the places we least expect.
