When Oliver told his parents he wanted to introduce them to his girlfriend, they were over the moon.
Oliver had been living with his mum and dad, though not because he was a mummys boy or couldnt afford rent. Hed been saving for his own place, avoiding a mortgage if he could help it. His parents supported him fully. They lived in a spacious flat in London, where everyone had their own space, and no one pried into each others business. They never demanded explanations if Oliver came home late, and he, in turn, never expected meals cooked or laundry done. It worked perfectlycomfortable, practical, and financially sensible.
And now, there was a girl. The first one hed ever wanted them to meet.
*”What should I make for lunch?”* his mum asked. *”What does your Emily like?”*
*”Nothing fancy, Mum,”* Oliver chuckled. *”Shes very health-consciousno fried food, nothing fatty, and no alcohol.”*
*”Well, good for her,”* his mum smiled. *”Ill whip up something light.”*
Emily was lovelybright, well-spoken, and clearly cared for Oliver. Though she barely touched her food, and Olivers mum couldnt help feeling slightly irked when Emily politely refused the light dessert shed prepared. *”Sugar is poison,”* Emily had said, *”everyone should cut it out.”*
Later, shed casually remarked that the sofa could do with new upholstery.
*”Your place is lovely, but the sofas looking a bit scratched up. Its not too expensiveI know a good upholsterer.”*
There was nothing malicious in it. But until then, Olivers mum hadnt even noticed the marks. Their cat, Whiskers, had clawed at it as a kitten, but hed learned better quickly. The scratches were faintyoud only see them if you looked.
Yet after Emily left, Olivers mum kept staring at them. Like theyd been highlighted.
Still, Emily was pleasant and polite, thanking them for their hospitality. Olivers parents agreed there was no harm in her commentsjust good intentions. Diet was personal, after all.
A few months passed, and Oliver announced he was moving in with Emily.
*”Mum, DadI love her, and we want to take the next step. Ive saved half the deposit for a flat, so the mortgage wont be too steep.”*
They exchanged glances. It felt quick, but it wasnt their place to interfere.
*”The place needs some work, though,”* Oliver added. *”Could we stay with you while its being done? Just a month, tops.”*
*”Of course, love,”* his mum said. She meant it, toothey liked Emily.
Soon, Emily moved in. They welcomed her warmly, telling her to make herself at home.
But that was just a polite phrasenot an invitation. Emily took it literally.
It started with the sunflower oil.
*”Emily, have you seen the cooking oil?”* Olivers mum asked one evening.
*”I threw it out,”* Emily smiled.
*”Why?”*
*”I thought itd be better if we all ate healthier. And honestly, the smell of fried food makes me queasy.”*
Olivers mum sighed. Maybe she had a point, but they liked their roast potatoes and Sunday fry-ups.
*”Emily, were used to our ways. Id never force you to eat what I cook, but please dont force your habits on us.”*
*”Sorry,”* Emily murmured. *”Just looking out for your health.”*
The unease lingered.
Then the curtains vanished.
*”Where are my drapes?”* Olivers mum asked, staring at the thin grey replacements.
*”Oh, those old ones were so dated! I thought these would brighten the place up.”*
*”Emily, I liked the old ones. Where are they?”*
*”I kept them,”* Emily said airily, *”but these suit better, dont they?”*
*”Theyre not my taste. Please put the others back.”*
Later, half the crockery went missing.
*”Those plates were mismatched. Ive ordered a new setmy treat!”*
Olivers mum bit her tongue.
*”Emily,”* she finally said, sitting her down. *”I appreciate you wanting to help, but this is our home. Please dont change anything without asking.”*
*”I just wanted it to be nice,”* Emily said stiffly.
*”I know. But dont.”*
Emily sulked. That night, she complained to Oliver. *”No one appreciates me!”*
He didnt side with her.
*”Em, its their house. You wouldnt like it if someone redecorated yours without asking.”*
*”If it was an improvement, Id be thrilled!”*
*”Improvements subjective.”*
She huffed but dropped it.
Olivers mum, meanwhile, counted the days till they moved out.
Emily stopped redecorating but started *tidying*with commentary.
*”I deep-cleaned the bathroom today. Had you ever scrubbed behind the sink? It was filthy.”*
*”Thanks, Emily.”*
*”Spent all day on the cupboard. Had to bin half of itso much junk! Probably from Olivers childhood.”*
*”Thats fine.”*
*”The sofa was coated in cat hair! Practically an allergy hazard. Youll have to vacuum properly after we leave.”*
*”Right.”*
By the time they moved, Olivers mum couldve thrown a party.
As they left, Emily hugged her.
*”Thank you for having me. I really enjoyed staying with you.”*
*”So did we, love,”* his mum lied.
The door shut. Olivers dad grinned.
*”Nice girl. Just young.”*
*”Lifell teach her,”* his mum sighed. *”Though, honestly, she did sort out that cupboard.”*
*”And my old hatshe was right, it was terrible.”*
They laughed.
Truth was, they got on finejust better apart. Olivers mum vowed never to repeat the experiment. Some lessons were best learned once.
