I Didn’t Take to Him Right From the Start

He didnt win me over at first.
Oh, did he just swing at you? Maybe you imagined it? Maybe it was an accident?
Mum, maybe isnt an option. I thought James would end up an orphan by now Hes a head taller than me!
You know, men dont raise a hand without reason Youve always been a firecracker. If somethings off, youll bring it to a boil.

Emma stared, stunned by her mothers tone. Shed expected protection, outrage, at least a hint of sympathy, not a lecture that made her feel responsible. If, God forbid, things went wrong, would her mother also blame her?

How can I not be a firecracker when his world is full of bunnies and kitties? Ive heard those words from him for three years straight! Emma snapped.
Listen, darling, flinging a punch isnt the same as landing one, Margaret said, irritation slipping into her voice. He doesnt drink, doesnt party, works. Sure, hes got a temper. All men have temperaments, and you do too. Have you ever had a better bloke? Think carefully before you do anything rash
Thanks for the support, mum, Emma replied, hanging up.

Physical abuse, betrayal, lies the very things Emma could never accept, especially in marriage. James had assembled every possible red flag. Emma had already decided she wouldnt back down, but her mothers reaction to her complaints sounded as if she were whining about an expired grocery item. It didnt add up, and Emma realised shed simply never noticed before.

Margaret had a peculiar habit: she could change shoes midstep, even midjump, and would say one thing to your face and another behind your back. Her smile was sugary and mischievous, her gaze often cold and assessing.

Oh, what a cute dress! It looks lovely on you, shed coo when little Emma tried on clothes in a shop.
Then shed stare at the price tag, raise an eyebrow, and switch her opinion.
Actually, with those legs it makes you look a bit short, shed declare sharply. No, lets find something else.

In the end they bought cheap, offcolour synthetic fabric that didnt fit, but was on sale, and Margaret bragged to her friends about the great bargain.

Some mums tailor gowns for the school prom in Year 4! shed lament over the phone to a neighbour. Its madness, the money for a oneoff event. I grabbed mine on clearance; at least its not a waste. Maybe shell wear it somewhere later.

Emmas friends were similar. She turned up at a birthday, brought a slice of cake, and heard, Oh, Lilys such a good girl, and her parents are proper. When Lily wanted to visit, Margaret would instantly change shoes.

Why let her in? Remember: no girlfriends in the house! shed scold Emma. Get used to it early. Girls start sweet, then either gossip behind your back or steal your husband.

James suffered the same treatment. At first Margaret disapproved of him.

Whats he good for? He pops in and out A decent man wouldnt behave like that. I can feel youre not his only one, Margaret warned.

Emma believed her. She had no experience, and her mothers authoritative voice drowned any inner doubt.

She tried to break up with James. Instead, he pressed harder: flowers delivered to the door, sushi orders, and Margaret softened.

You cant let such a man slip away! she said, trying to spear a roll with her fork. He may not be perfect, but you dont want to end up with thirty cats on your lap, do you? Grab the bull by the horns and marry him.

Emma, ever the dutiful daughter, listened. Mother wouldnt give bad advice.

Warning signs were there even then, despite Jamess sudden disappearances. His mood swung wildly: affectionate one minute, brooding the next. He was jealous of Emmas friends, critiqued her outfits, and claimed he liked short skirts and high heels. Yet Emma clung to her mothers counsel and, after six months, secured a marriage certificate.

The first months were honeysweet: romantic dinners, flawless selfies, daily surprises. Then things shifted.

James stopped asking what Emma wanted. He audited her shopping lists, scolded every extra item, even a tube of hair dye. He nearly forbade her from wearing red lipstick, saying she looked like a flirt.

Both worked, but the house fell to Emma alone. James came home early, only to meet Emma at the door asking, Whats for dinner? After the meal he would retreat to his computer, leaving a mountain of dishes behind.

James, could you at least wash your plate? Emma asked, gathering courage.
What, you dont like serving me? he retorted.
Its fine. Im just exhausted.
Im exhausted too. I was at work all day.

Emma felt lost. She was also breaking her back, but James didnt care. He shrugged, saying his own mother managed everything while raising sons.

What did you expect when you got married? Margaret asked when Emma complained. A woman must juggle everything. Families depend on us.

Emma didnt agree, but when everyone around echoed the same sentiment, she began to think something was wrong with her.

Time rushed on. Emma gave birth, and everything worsened. To friends they seemed perfect; in private they bickered over trivialities. James refused to help with the baby, insisting the first year was a fathers offlimits period. He slept in another room, claiming the infants cries kept him from work. When Emma woke at night, she sometimes saw James wide awake, phone in hand.

She tried to talk, but he shut her out. Your emotions are your problem, he said. If somethings wrong with me, the door is that way. Emma calmly explained she was fighting for their family, not attacking him.

Youve just got high expectations, Margaret remarked when Emma confided again. What more do you need? He works, provides, you live in his flat

Emma tried to convince herself everything was fine; after all, arguments happen to everyone.

Then she found his messages. No explicit photos, but the tone was full of bunnies, sunny, kittens. A whole virtual zoo wishing him good mornings and nights. There were flirty exchanges, though no concrete proof of physical cheating. To Emma, it was betrayal enough.

She confronted James that very day.

Its just innocent banter, he tried to explain. Colleagues, acquaintances I just talk like that to keep things pleasant. It makes negotiations easier. Why are you making a fuss? Trust me.

Trust was impossible with a man who kept a virtual harem.

The argument erupted into a fullblown fight. James pointed her to the door, his hand even raised at one point. Emma couldnt walk out then; she hoped her mother would intervene, but

Just some messages, love. Its only letters. Hes bored, youre home with Tom all day. Hes just looking for a bit of attention, Margaret soothed in a matteroffact tone.

Margaret never changed her view, even when Emma warned that things could turn violent.

Emma had to pull herself out. When friends learned she was filing for divorce, they were shocked; shed never complained before. Yet, to Emmas surprise, the world wasnt entirely cruel.

One friend handed over the spare key to her flat. Shed just moved in with a boyfriend, leaving her place empty. Another offered cash. A third helped with the move.

Weeks later Emma filed for divorce and fled the house. Her mothers reaction was once again astonishing.

Good riddance! Hes a tyrant, Margaret blurted. He never liked me from the start. Remember I told you decent men dont act like that?

Emma blinked, bewildered. Margaret had earlier urged her to stay, calling James caring and attentive, then suddenly praised her for leaving.

Mum Werent you the one who warned me against divorce?
I didnt know anyone could help you! Where would you have gone? Margaret snapped, then softened. Im here, of course but Im old, cramped, and I cant be a single mother again. I know how hard that is.

Thats when Emma saw the truth: her mothers shifting shoes werent about being better; they were about convenience. She bought cheap clothes for Emma, refused friends visits, urged against divorce so Emma wouldnt return to her own parents with a child.

Two years passed. Emma still spoke to Margaret, but stopped sharing her life or asking for advice. She no longer visited, and Margaret stopped inviting her. Work and money were tough, but Emmas heart finally felt lighter.

One afternoon the phone rang.

Emma Ive gone absolutely ragged, caught some flu. No meds at home, no food. I could really use a soup Think you could pop over for an hour?

Emma raised an eyebrow. A sick mother, a child, an hour? The pleasure seemed dubious.

Tell me what you need, and Ill order it, Emma replied.

Silence lingered. Margaret had hoped for a different answer.

I dont need any deliveries, Emma said, a hint of irritation in her voice. I just wanted to see you. Maybe these are my last days.
Mum Id love to help, but you were rightbeing a single mother is hard. Supplying meds and food is my duty, but being there that needs trust. I dont trust you after all the shoechanging.

Margaret sighed, muttered, but couldnt sway her daughter.

From then on Emma chose her confidants very carefully, wary of deception, even when she longed for it.