**Diary Entry – The Unexpected In-Laws**
“Mum, have you lost your mind? What in-laws?!” Emily shrieked into the phone, nearly dropping it. “I’ve told you a hundred times—Thomas and I are just dating!”
“And what, dating means it isn’t serious?” Mum’s voice was firm, signalling no room for argument. “Emily, you’re twenty-seven! Girls your age are married with children, and here you are—playing games! His parents are lovely, hardworking people, with a three-bedroom house in Guildford…”
“Mum!” Emily squeezed her eyes shut, willing her headache to fade. “Listen to me. I am NOT ready to get married. I DON’T want to discuss this with strangers. And you should’ve talked to me first!”
“Too late for that,” Mum snapped. “I’ve already called them. They’re coming tomorrow morning. Thomas knows, by the way—I spoke to him yesterday. He agreed.”
Emily sank onto the sofa. Thomas agreed… Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? Still living with his parents, working part-time, and now—a fiancée with her own flat and a steady income.
“Mum, couldn’t we just cancel? Say I’m ill?”
“Emily, love,” Mum’s voice softened, pleading. “Can’t you see? I want grandchildren! What if something happens to me, and you’re left on your own? Thomas is a good boy—doesn’t drink or smoke…”
“Doesn’t drink?” Emily scoffed. “He could barely stand two nights ago!”
“That was a special occasion!” Mum brushed it off. “Just be here by ten. I’ve bought a roast chicken, and I’ll order a cake…”
The line went dead. Emily sat staring into space before abruptly standing and pacing. What now? Should she strangle Thomas? Mum? Or flee to her friend’s cottage till Monday?
Her phone rang again.
“Em, it’s me.” Thomas sounded sheepish. “Listen, your mum rang me yesterday…”
“You absolute git!” she hissed. “You could’ve warned me!”
“I thought she was joking! Honestly, who arranges marriages through *in-laws* these days? I figured she’d drop it!”
“And when did you realise she wasn’t joking?”
“When my parents started picking out cakes,” he admitted. “Em, why don’t we just play along? Sit through it, humour them…”
“Do you *realise* Mum will march me down the aisle at gunpoint after this? She’s probably already chosen my dress!”
“So what?” Thomas’s tone shifted. “Am I not good enough?”
Emily fell silent. He wasn’t wrong. She liked Thomas—a lot. Tall, kind, handsome. But something was missing. He never decided anything without his mum—even which shirt to wear on dates. And now, a marriage he hadn’t even suggested.
“Thomas… do *you* actually want to marry me? Not your mum, not mine—*you*?”
“‘Course I do!” Too quick. “I mean… we know each other well…”
“That’s not an answer,” Emily sighed. “Fine. See you tomorrow.”
The next morning, she stood stiffly outside her parents’ house, hesitating. The neighbour’s grandmother watered her geraniums, peering curiously.
“Emily! Stop dawdling!” Mum yanked her inside, bustling in her Sunday apron. “Help set the table. I’ve got salmon for the starter and decent caviar—not the expensive sort, mind…”
“Mum—”
“And that suit’s perfect! Smart but not flashy. Thomas’s parents prefer modest girls.”
“You know what they *prefer*?”
“Oh, we’ve met!” Mum beamed. “Lovely woman, his mum. We chatted for ages—she’s thrilled Thomas found someone like you!”
Emily’s stomach twisted. So now she was *the bride*—without being asked.
“Mum, listen. I *don’t* want to get married. Understand?”
“But why date him then? Stringing a man along isn’t right, Emily!”
“We’re getting to know each other! Maybe we’re not even suited!”
“Six months is plenty of time! In my day—”
The doorbell cut her off.
Thomas arrived with his parents—his father, a burly man with kind eyes, looked awkward, while his mother, Margaret, appraised Emily like a prized heifer.
“So?” Mum pressed. “Have you decided?”
Margaret levelled her gaze. “Emily, do you *truly* want to marry my son?”
Emily froze. She hadn’t expected bluntness.
“Margaret!” Mum interjected. “Of course she does!”
“I asked *her*.”
Emily exhaled. “Honestly? I don’t know. We’ve never discussed marriage—until yesterday.”
Margaret rounded on Mum. “And yet you told me it was settled!”
“Mum,” Thomas cut in. “Maybe Emily and I should talk alone?”
Outside, tension hung thick until Thomas blurted, “I couldn’t sleep last night. This isn’t how it should be.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Emily… I *do* want to marry you. But I’m terrified you’ll say no.”
“Why?”
“You’re brilliant. Independent. And I’m just… ordinary.”
She laughed. “You idiot! You’re kind, steady—that matters more.”
“Then… will you?” He clasped her hands. “Not because our parents said so. Because *I’m* asking.”
She searched his earnest face. No, he wasn’t Prince Charming. But he was *real*.
“Yes. But properly—a ring, a venue. Not tomorrow.”
“Our mothers will riot,” he groaned.
“Tell them we agreed. They’ll back off.”
Back inside, the parents were civilly sipping tea. Margaret arched a brow. “Well?”
“We’ll marry,” Emily said. “In October.”
*”October?*” both mums cried.
“Because,” Thomas said firmly, “we’ll do this *our* way.”
Later, as the in-laws left with cake and a jar of homemade marmalade, Mum sighed. “Good family. Thomas is lucky.”
“Mum,” Emily groaned. “*Ask* me next time before inviting *in-laws*.”
“Why? It all worked out!”
Emily rolled her eyes. Maybe Mum was right—but next time, *she’d* be the one setting the terms.
**Lesson learned:** Family meddling is inevitable, but love—even ordinary, steady love—deserves its own timing.
