“Why wont you open the door?”
“I dont want to! And I wont. Guests should announce their visits, and they certainly shouldnt rummage through drawers, fridges, and wardrobes.”
“What do you mean, you wont? Thats my mother! Shes come to see *me*!”
“Well then, *you* go and greet her! But not in *my* house.”
Emily, on the other hand, had always got on better with his mum.
“You know, if I started listing all the ways my ex was better than you, wed both be ashamed.”
“Though Im not so sure about myself,” interrupted Charlotte nervously, wiping down the kitchen table. “If you both got on so well with Emily, why did you break up with her?”
Edward turned away, offended, and glared out the window.
“Well you know the story.”
“I do. So dont start telling me about your dear little Emily,” Charlotte snapped. “Or Ill be your next ex.”
She was already prepared to take drastic measures.
Shed met Edward nearly a year ago through mutual friends. Shed even known Emily, though not intimately. It was Emily whod brought Edward along in the first placeonly to vanish from the scene a few months later.
One evening, slightly worse for wear, Edward had confessed that hed ended things after catching Emily cheating. Hed even shed a tear.
At the time, Charlotte found it endearinga man unafraid to show his feelings, who valued love. Something in her had *clicked*, stirring an urge to comfort him.
Looking back, she realised that was likely her maternal instinct, not romantic interest. But it had been enough to kindle their relationship.
At first, it was lovely. Hed meet her after work, drive her home, send sweet messages daily, and fret over whether shed dressed warmly enough. Shed felt cherished.
The first red flag came when Emily herself messaged her.
*”Hey. Heard youre seeing Edward. Not my business, but be careful. He and his mum are an inseparable duo.”*
Charlotte noted the warning but dismissed it. Love could overcome worse obstacles. Besides, just because things had gone badly with one woman didnt mean history would repeat itself.
*”Thanks for the heads-up, but well figure it out,”* she replied, keen to end the conversation. It felt disloyal to Edward.
Yet Edward showed no such concern for *her* comfort.
When his mother, Margaret, first turned up unannounced, Charlotte remained composed. Perhaps they simply didnt realise how intrusive it was. Maybe Margaret was just anxious about her sons new living arrangements.
Charlotte sent Edward to greet his mother, hastily dressed, tied her hair into a messy ponytail, andstill groggy, dark circles under her eyesemerged to meet her potential mother-in-law, only to find the woman already inspecting the drawers in the parlour.
“Ah, everything all jumbled,” Margaret remarked with a condescending smile. “No wonder socks go missing. Charlotte, after breakfast, Ill show you how to fold clothes properlyno creases, no losses.”
Not even a *good morning*. Charlotte was speechless. A stranger rifling through her undergarments in her own home struck her as outrageously rude.
But snapping back at the outset of their relationship felt wrong, so she bit her tongue.
“Goodness, dear, those dark circles! You ought to try cucumber compresses. Better yet, have your kidneys checked. My friend Margaret”
Charlotte smiled and nodded, pretending interest in the ailments of strangers while longing to crawl back into bed. It was only eight on a Saturdayshed stayed up late deliberately, planning to sleep in.
No such luck.
Margarets visit dragged on until evening, leaving Charlotte bombarded with critiques and “advice” on flower-watering, bathroom-scrubbing, and cutlery-polishingcomplete with demonstrations. By the end, she felt wrung out like a dishrag. And not once had Edward stepped in to hint they might want privacy.
“Your mum is she always so *hands-on*?” Charlotte ventured that night.
She wasnt against close families, but some boundaries would be nice.
“Suppose so. Why? She just wants to bond,” Edward shrugged. “Emily and I used to live with herlively times. Now shes lonely.”
“Lets hope we dont end up a trio,” Charlotte sighed.
“Whats that supposed to mean? Youve got a problem with my mother?” Edward tensed. “She and Emily got on splendidly.”
Charlotte said nothing. Emily had been eight years younger, the type to ingratiate herself effortlessly. No doubt shed memorised Margarets friends names and ailments, ironed sheets to perfection, and baked pies to her exacting standards.
But Charlotte hadnt signed up for that. Life had taught her that the fewer outsiders meddled in a couples affairs, the better. Edward disagreed.
“Mums sociable. Gets on with anyone.”
*”Not everyone wants her to,”* Charlotte almost retorted, but held her tongue.
Worse followed. Margaret returned the next morningearly againto inspect the fridge.
“Chicken eggs? I only ever cooked quail for Edwardbetter for men,” she declared. “And these shelves! You eat off these, Charlotte. Really, they ought to be scrubbed.”
*”I dont lick the shelves,”* Charlotte thought.
“Ill clean them later, Margaret. We were hoping to rest today. It *is* the weekend”
Edward, incidentally, was doing just thatsleeping soundly while Charlotte entertained his mother.
“Nonsense! Weekends are for chores,” Margaret decreed. “Fetch a cloth. Next Saturday, Ill teach you Edwards favourite meat pie. Youll adore it!”
Charlotte froze, arms crossed. Shed be damned if she spent another weekend taking orders.
“Margaret, perhaps take my number? So you can call before visiting. I might have plans.”
“Call? Cant I visit my own son?” Margarets face twisted in offence.
“Of course. But your son lives with a woman now. Itd be nice if we all considered each others feelings.”
“Emily never made such fuss,” Margaret sniffed.
“Well, *my* exs mother didnt barge in at dawn,” Charlotte shot back. “She brought cherry scones. Delicious. Want the recipe?”
Margarets expression darkened. Wrinkles deepened; her eyes flashed.
“Think carefully, dear. In our family, the nightingale doesnt out-sing the lark.”
With that, she leftbut the bitterness lingered. Charlotte didnt know what to do. Edward wouldnt listen, his mother treated their home as her own, and the ghost of Emily haunted their every interaction.
“Emilys cabbage rolls were better. Her mum taught her,” Edward might muse over dinner.
“Then have *her* teach you, and you can cook for me.”
She suspected Margaret was poisoning Edward against her but avoided confrontation. She just wanted the topic gone.
The next month passed peacefullyuntil the cycle repeated. Another early-morning ring. This time, Charlotte refused to answer.
Harsh? Perhaps. But was it *polite* to ignore clear boundaries?
Five minutes later, Edward emergedsleepy, irritated, almost furious.
“Why wont you open the door?”
“I dont want to! Guests *announce* themselves. They dont root through our things.”
“Thats my *mother*! Shes here for *me*!”
“Then *you* greet her. Not in my house.”
The row that followed surely reached the neighbours. Edward accused her of rejecting his motherand by extension, *him*. Margaret shrieked to be let in, phoned repeatedly.
Finally, Charlotte issued an ultimatum.
“Enough! Either you explain the meaning of guest to your mother and send her home, or were through.”
Edward chose the latter.
Charlotte wasnt heartbroken. Theyd never marriedperhaps a blessing. Life with a man tethered to his ex and his mother held no appeal.
Months later, surprising news reached her: Edward had a new love. A mutual friend from that fateful gathering shared the details.
“We work together. She moved in with him and his mum but already wants out. Asks to meet you,” the friend grinned.
“Oh? Why?”
“Well, according to Edwards mother, youre the ideal woman. Beautiful, strong-willed, a brilliant cook.”
“Are we talking about the same Margaret?”
“Seems she only warms to those whove escaped Edward,” the friend shrugged.
From then on, Charlotte listened more carefully to gossipnot swallowing it whole, but not dismissing it either.
And she grew wary of men forever comparing her to exes, or whose mothers held their reins.
Life with such Romeos never worksMum always comes first. Perhaps thats right, but within reason. Dont you agree?
What do you think? Share your thoughts below.
