“Why arent you opening the door?”
“I dont want to! And I wont. Guests should warn us before visitingand they definitely shouldnt go rummaging through drawers, fridges, and wardrobes.”
“What do you mean, you wont? Thats my mother! She came to see *me*!”
“Well then, *you* go and meet her! Just not in *my* house.”
“Honestly, Vikki got along much better with my mum.”
“You know, if I started listing all the ways my ex was better than you, wed both be embarrassed,” interrupted Natalie nervously, scrubbing the kitchen table. “If things were so perfect with Vikki, why did you two break up?”
Victor turned away, offended, and glared out the window.
“Well… you already know the story.”
“Exactly. So stop bringing up your precious Vikki,” Natalie snapped. “Or Ill be your next ex.”
She was serious.
Natalie had met Victor almost a year ago through mutual friends. She even knew Vikkinot well, but enough. Vikki had introduced Victor, then vanished from the radar a few months later.
One night, after a few too many drinks, Victor confessed hed caught Vikki cheating. He even shed a tear.
At the time, Natalie found it sweeta man unafraid to show his feelings, who valued love. Something inside her *clicked*. She wanted to comfort him.
Now she realised that “something” was maternal instinct, not attraction. But it had been enough to start their relationship.
At first, everything was lovely. Hed meet her after work, drive her home, send sweet messages, and ask if shed dressed warmly. She felt cared for.
Then Vikki messaged her out of the blue.
*”Hey. Heard youre seeing Victor. Not my business, but… be careful. Theyre a package dealhim and his mum.”*
Natalie noted the warning but brushed it off. Love could overcome anything. Just because things went wrong with one woman didnt mean they would with her.
*”Thanks, but well figure it out ourselves.”*
She didnt want to engage further. It felt disloyal.
Victor, however, had no such concerns for *her* comfort.
When his mother, Margaret, first dropped by unannounced, Natalie stayed calm. Maybe neither of them realised how rude it was. Maybe Margaret just worried about her son and wanted to meet his girlfriend.
Natalie sent Victor to greet his mother, threw on clothes, tied her hair up, andstill groggyemerged to meet her potential mother-in-law. Margaret was already inspecting the dresser drawers.
*”Hmm, everythings a mess,”* she said with a condescending smile. *”Next, youll have mismatched socks. Natalie, after breakfast, Ill teach you how to fold clothes properly.”*
Not even a *hello*. Natalie was stunned. A stranger casually pawing through her underwear in *her* home felt invasive. But snapping back seemed wrong, so she bit her tongue.
*”Oh, darling, those under-eye bags!”* Margaret tutted. *”You need cucumber slices. Or betterget your kidneys checked. My friends cousin”*
Natalie smiled and nodded, pretending interest in strangers ailments while yearning to crawl back into bed. It was 8 AM on a Sunday. Shed stayed up late to sleep in.
No such luck.
Margaret stayed until evening, critiquing Natalies flower care, bathroom scrubbing, and cutlery polishing. By the end, Natalie felt like a squeezed lemon. Victor never once stepped in.
*”Your mums… always this intense?”* Natalie asked carefully that night.
She didnt mind close families, but boundaries mattered.
*”Yeah. Why? Shes just being friendly,”* Victor shrugged. *”Vikki and I used to live with herit was fun. Now shes lonely.”*
*”I hope *we* wont be living as a trio…”* Natalie sighed.
*”Whats wrong with my mum?”* he snapped. *”Vikki got along with her.”*
Natalie stayed quiet. Vikki had been eight years youngera people-pleaser who probably memorised Margarets friends names and ironed sheets perfectly.
Natalie hadnt signed up for that. She believed relationships thrived *without* constant interference. Victor disagreed.
*”Shes sociable. Gets on with anyone.”*
(*”Not everyone *wants* that,”* Natalie almost said.)
It got worse. Margaret returned the next morning and inspected the fridge.
*”Chicken eggs? I only cooked quail for Victorbetter for men,”* she declared. *”Shelves are grimy. You *eat* off these. Natalie, you should clean”*
(*”I dont lick the shelves,”* Natalie thought.)
*”Later, Margaret. Its our day off.”*
Meanwhile, Victor slept in.
*”Weekends are for chores!”* Margaret insisted. *”Next week, Ill teach you Victors favourite meat pie. Youll love it!”*
Natalie froze. *”Maybe call before visiting? I might have plans.”*
*”Call? Cant I visit my own son?”*
*”Of course. But he lives with *me* now. Courtesy goes both ways.”*
*”Vikki never minded,”* Margaret snapped.
*”Well, *my* exs mum never barged in at dawn. She brought cherry pies. Want the recipe?”*
Margarets face darkened. *”Think carefully, dear. The nightingale doesnt outsing the lark.”*
She left, but the tension lingered. Victor didnt see the issue. WorseVikkis ghost haunted their relationship.
*”Vikkis cabbage rolls were better. Her mum taught her,”* Victor mused at dinner.
*”Get her to teach *you*, then.”*
A month passed peacefullyuntil Margaret returned. Natalie refused to answer the door.
Victor stormed out minutes later. *”Why didnt you let her in?”*
*”I wont. Guests should *ask* before rifling through my things!”*
*”Shes my *mother*!”*
*”Then *you* greet her! Not in *my* home.”*
The fight was epic. Victor accused her of rejecting him by rejecting his mum. Margaret screamed through the door, called repeatedly.
Finally, Natalie snapped. *”Either you explain what *guest* means, or were done!”*
He chose “done.”
No regretsthey hadnt even married. Living with a man still attached to his ex *and* his overbearing mother? No thanks.
Months later, Natalie heard Victor had a new girlfriend.
*”She moved in with him *and* his mum,”* a mutual friend laughed. *”Now she wants to flee. Asked to meet you.”*
*”Why?”*
*”Margaret says youre perfectpretty, strong-willed, great cook.”*
*”*Margaret* said that?”*
*”Guess she only likes the ones who escape Victor.”*
From then on, Natalie listened to warnings. She kept her wits but avoided men obsessed with exesor their mothers.
Life with a “mummys boy” never works. Shes always first. Maybe thats fairbut not *this* way.
Agree? Thoughts in the comments. Likes appreciated.
