“Mum, don’t marry him.”
“Mum, Liam asked me to move in with him,” Emily said cautiously after dinner.
“And where will you live?” her mum asked after a slight pause.
“He has his own flat. His dad bought it when he started uni.”
“Aren’t you rushing things? You’ve got a whole year left before graduation. What if you get pregnant?” Her mum turned off the tap, dried her hands with a 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 the idea or not.
“You’re old enough to make your own decisions. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got someone.”
“I had a feeling. Why haven’t you ever mentioned him or introduced us?” Emily asked curiously.
Her mum lowered her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe I was nervous. The thing is… he’s younger than me.” She looked up at Emily.
“So what? That’s trendy nowadays. So you’re fine with me moving in?” Emily jumped up and hugged her.
At first, she called her mum every day and often dropped by in the evenings. She still had a key but now rang the bell. One evening, the door was opened by a handsome young man. His fitted T-shirt highlighted his toned chest and arms.
“Your daughter’s here,” he said with a bright, white-toothed grin.
“Daughter, but not yours,” Emily muttered and stepped inside.
Her mum was cooking dinner. She looked different—healthier, dressed in sporty white trousers and a fitted pink top instead of her usual cosy dressing gown.
“Lucas, we need to talk,” she said when he walked into the kitchen.
“Got it. Chat away, ladies,” he grinned, his dark eyes gleaming.
“Mum, he’s at least fifteen years younger than you. You look great, but the age gap is obvious,” Emily whispered after he left.
“You said it yourself—it’s trendy now,” her mum laughed.
Emily barely recognised her. Always reserved, she now giggled constantly, her eyes shining. And the teenage-style clothes…
“So *that’s* why you never introduced us. What’s next? Please don’t tell me you’re actually going to marry him,” Emily said, stunned.
“What if I am? Would you mind?”
Emily opened her mouth, but her mum beat her to it.
“We haven’t even talked about it yet. But I’ve never felt like this before. It’s like I’ve got wings. I’m so happy!” Her mum gave a sheepish smile. “And you? You and Liam alright?”
“Yeah, fine. Mum, I should go—he’s probably wondering where I am.”
Walking home upset, Emily felt like an outsider in her mum’s flat.
“What’s wrong?” Liam asked when she got back.
“You won’t believe it—Mum’s in love,” Emily said, unmooring her coat.
“So? She’s still young. Or is he some old creep? Ex-con? Unless that’s the case, I don’t see the problem. She’s happy. That’s good, isn’t it?” Liam shrugged.
Emily glared at him like he’d betrayed her.
“Lucas is practically your age. Looks like a Hollywood actor. For *her*, it’s obvious—young, gorgeous. But him? He’s using her. No way he actually loves her,” Emily argued.
“Love is blind… Or maybe you’re jealous? Fancy him yourself? Careful, I’m the jealous type. I’ll challenge him to a duel,” Liam teased.
Emily rolled her eyes.
“Always with the jokes. I’m not jealous. I just don’t get what he wants with a middle-aged woman. There are hundreds of girls his age throwing themselves at him.”
“Maybe he *is* in love,” Liam mused. “Or he’s after her flat.”
“We don’t have money. Just a thin gold chain, earrings, and a cubic zirconia ring. Not worth scamming anyone over.”
“What about the flat? Property’s always valuable.”
“But Mum said he hasn’t proposed. They haven’t even been together that long. How’s he getting the flat?”.
Liam sighed. “Look, Em, I was joking. She’s in love. I doubt it’ll last, but she’s not stupid. She knows what she’s doing.”
“That’s the problem—she *doesn’t*. You should’ve seen her goofy smile. And the clothes! He’s turning her into some teen girl, but she’s *not*.”
“To you, she’s just your mum. You don’t see her as a woman. Let her be happy for now.”
“But he’ll dump her. And she’ll be heartbroken.”
“How’d you feel if she’d forbidden us to be together? She let you go—don’t stand in her way.”
“Wait till he breaks her heart—or worse? Easy for you to say. She’s *not* your mum.”
Liam stiffened. “No, she’s not. If I had one, I wouldn’t interfere.”
Emily winced. “Sorry.”
Maybe he was right. Why assume the worst? What if it *was* love?
They didn’t talk about it again. But unease gnawed at her. Days later, Emily visited her mum, hoping to learn more about Lucas. She found his social media—gym selfies, party pics, nothing revealing.
This time, her mum answered the door almost immediately—but didn’t seem thrilled to see her.
“You’re not happy I’m here?”
“No, of course not. Come in. I just thought it was Lucas.” Her mum shivered, wrapped in an oversized jumper.
“You’re not ill, are you? You look pale.”
“Don’t be silly. Want some tea?”
“No, thanks. Where’s Lucas?” Emily asked, feigning indifference.
“Still at work. Evening training session—he’s a personal trainer.”
*No surprise there.* “So that’s where you met?”
Her mum seemed distracted, fumbling with the teacups. When the kettle whistled, she frantically twisted the stove knobs.
“Mum, are you okay?”
No reply. Her mum poured the tea but didn’t drink.
“Mum?”
“Fine. Just… I went to his gym. These young girls there… Lucas said I should get a breast lift, maybe some work on my face.”
“*Lucas* said that? Mum, wake up! If a man picks apart your looks, he doesn’t love you. Why go under the knife? People *die* from botched surgeries—you’ve read the stories. What do you even *know* about him?”
“Stop. I don’t interfere in your life—don’t ruin mine. I haven’t decided yet. I love him. Even if he leaves me later, I want this now. What have I had in life? Your dad left, never married me. I raised you alone, never thought of myself. Then I met Lucas and finally felt *wanted*. You’ll understand when you’re older. You love Liam—what if he asked you to get lip fillers? Would you?”
“That’s not fair. I just don’t want to lose you. Promise me you won’t rush into anything?”
“What’s all this, girls?” Lucas strode in, grinning.
Her mum turned to him with a sycophantic smile. Emily felt sick.
“We got carried away chatting,” her mum said.
“I should go. Seminar tomorrow.” Emily slipped past Lucas, hoping her mum would follow. She didn’t. Emily slammed the door behind her.
“Don’t interfere,” Liam said when Emily told him. “Love’s like chickenpox—worse when you get it late. She’s unlucky, falling for it now. Let her have this.”
“What if she ruins her face? *Dies*?”
“What can we do? Ban her? Hire a hitman?” Liam joked.
“I’m worried, and you’re *joking*? Fine, I won’t tell you anything again.”
“Sorry,” Liam murmured, nuzzling her temple.
Days passed. Her mum was always “busy”—Lucas’s doing. Then she called: she’d had tests. Tomorrow, the breast surgery.
“You’re home?” Emily asked, tense.
“In the hospital. The doctor says it’s safe—he’s done hundreds.”
Emily was relieved it wasn’t her face. “Call me after, okay?”
All day, Emily waited. No call. Finally, a stranger answered.
“Where’s my mum?”
“Resting. Don’t worry.”
But she did.
“She’s *sleeping*. Chill,” Liam said.
“I’m going over there.”
“Why?”
“To catch Lucas out. Come or don’t.”
He followed. The door stayed shut. Emily’s key didn’t workLucas opened the door, dishevelled and defensive, but Emily pushed past him—and found a half-dressed blonde smirking from the bed, shattering any illusion of his loyalty, while her mum, still in hospital, finally saw the truth when Emily laid the evidence at her feet, and in time, she found real love with the steady kindness of their neighbor, Mr. Harris, who had been there all along.
