We dont require that sort of woman Sorry, Em, for the sharp remarks, the wouldbe motherinlaw hurriedly said, I didnt mean any illwill. Perhaps youll drop by sometime? Victors still on his own after you left him; hes only got the video games to keep him company.
—
Emma and Victor had been together for almost two years. To Emma it seemed a serious relationship: she was often welcomed into Victors family home, where she was treated politely, albeit without great warmth. She believed they had a solid future. Victor, though a little frivolous, was charming and could show determination when needed.
The idyll shattered when Victor failed a crucial English exam. It was a result of his lax attitude: during the lockdown he buried himself in video games, abandoning his studies, and now faced expulsion.
In the midst of the crisis Emma lost her temper and told Victors mother bluntly:
I dont want a man who achieves nothing. I need a selfsufficient bloke. Im not going to be anyones housewife; I want us to share both the chores and the earnings!
Her words hung in the air, instantly casting doubt over their future.
Victors mother took it as a personal affront. She had spent her life caring for her husband and son, believing her role was to nurture, not to demand results. Now she expected Emma to behave the same way.
Well, look at her! She doesnt want to be a housewife. Any proper lady should first be the keeper of the hearth, and the man the head of the household!
Emma kept quiet, not wanting to inflame the argument. After that the door was no longer opened for her. Communication with Victor was reduced to secret messages, occasional calls, and brief meetings in neutral spots. He suffered from not seeing her, but instead of honesty he resorted to manipulation.
Emma, we need to talk to my mum, Victor pressed over the phone. You have to explain you dont really feel that way. Im tired of hiding. Make peace with the parents, will you?
Why should I prove anything to your mother? She didnt raise me. This is your problem, not mine. Why should I bend over backwards?
Because you love me and I love you. Its the only way to sort this out. If you dont, well lose each other forever
With a heavy heart Emma agreedshe was ready, for loves sake, to take the humiliating step of trying to reason with a strangers mother.
But things did not go as she expected.
When Emma arrived, Victor let her into the hallway. At that moment his father descended the stairs:
Victor, whats that girl doing here? he demanded sharply.
Victor faltered. Emma felt her face go pale. The question sounded as if she were a random acquaintance, not his beloved girlfriend.
Dad, Emma, we wanted Victor began, but his father cut him off:
I see who she is. Shes out!
From the living room his mother emerged:
Whos making a ruckus? Victor, whos with you?
The father, ignoring Emma, tossed back:
The very one who taught you how to live.
Emma realised she was not welcome. The sting of insult drove her to act on instinct.
Im leaving, and you stay, you sorry, spineless son of a mother! she snapped, storming out and slamming the door behind her.
A bewildered Victor didnt even try to stop her.
Just as she stepped into the stairwell, her phone rang. Victors voice was not remorseful, only furious:
Why did you say that? Youve ruined everything!
What have I ruined? Your father just turned me into a callgirl!
It doesnt matter who he called me to! You caused a scene! Now Mums furious, and Dad wants me to stay away from you!
He then added the final blow:
And you know the worst part? I wont be allowed to sit at the computer any longer.
Emma felt anger churn into cold resolve.
You blame me for not being able to game? Your familys problems are yours to sort, not mine. You should have dealt with them yourself, not dragged me into it.
It became clear he hadnt changed. He remained an immature lad looking for someone to blame, offering her no protection.
I cant put up with this any longer, Victor. This is over, Emma said firmly. She blocked him everywhere. The split was sharp but necessary. His familys drama was his cross to bear, not hers.
—
A year later Emma had recovered from the breakup and started a new life. She met a new boyfriend; theyd been seeing each other for three months and things were heading toward marriage.
One day she bumped into Margaret Brown, Victors mother, in a shop.
Em! My dear, hello! Margaret rushed over.
Emma flinched.
Good morning
Margaret embraced her and bombarded her with questions:
Its been ages! How are you? Hows life? Its a shame you and Victor split. Hes gone off the rails with his games! He wont work, just sits at the computer. When you were together he was so much more responsible Come over sometime!
Im sorry, Margaret, Im busy. Work, home
Margaret noticed a ring on Emmas hand.
Whats that? Are you married?
No, were only engaged. Well have the wedding this summer.
The smile on Margarets face faded instantly.
Ah, so thats why! Good thing Victor left you! We dont need someone like you!
Emma shrugged and turned toward the shelves. In a way Margaret was right: it was lucky Victor had let her go in time. Still, it was a pity shed wasted time on him.
