Her Life
Emily had always dreamed of finishing school and moving away from home. She lived with her parents, but she longed to leavenot because things were bad, but because they were too good. Their love and care were overwhelming, suffocating even. She loved them, trulyshe was proud to have both a mother and father when so many of her classmates only had mums. And those who did have dads? They never knew a fathers warmth.
Nursery school. Primary years. Little Emily would skip happily between her mum and dad, hand in hand, convinced she was the luckiest girl in the world.
“Youre the best parents ever,” shed tell them, and their hearts would swell with pride.
They were always there. Walking her to the school gates, waiting until she stepped inside. Shed turn at the door, wave, and her father would call after her, “Make us proud, love. Bring home top marks!” And shed promise she would.
But as the years passed, that same love became a weight. By secondary school, Emily had started to think, *I cant stay here after graduation. Theyll smother me.* It wasnt so bad when she was small, but now? Unbearable.
Her parents shielded her from everything. At home, their care was relentlessthe best slice of cake always on her plate, the last biscuit saved just for her. She didnt even careshed have eaten any of them.
Things worsened in Year Nine. Back in Year Seven, shed finally snapped.
“Mum, Dad, stop walking me to school. Im not a child anymore. Its embarrassingnone of my friends get escorted like this!”
By Year Nine, she started staying out a little after class. Just sitting on a bench in the park with the girls, chatting about nothingboys, dreams, which uni theyd pick. Her parents no longer waited at the gates.
“Our girls grown up,” her mother sighed one evening.
Her father nodded. “Time flies.”
Emily was thrilled. *Freedom at last. I can finally make my own decisions.*
Too soon, reality hit.
“Emily, where were you?” her mother would press the moment she stepped inside. “Lessons ended ages ago!”
“We were just in the park, Mum. Eating ice cream. Talking about uni. Whats the problem?”
(She never mentioned the boys. That was for the girls, not her parents.)
But her mothers voice sharpened. “You should be sharing your thoughts with *us*, not your friends. Whos closer to you than your own family?”
Her father chimed in, “Youve been upsetting us lately. We worrydont you understand?”
By A-levels, Emilys mind was made up: she *had* to leave. Especially after the school dance, when she came home at ten instead of nine.
She opened the door to find her mother sprawled on the sofa, a cold cloth on her forehead, her father hovering with smelling salts. Their stares were accusatory, as if shed committed some crime. That was itdecision sealed. Not because she didnt love them, but because she couldnt bear the guilt, the endless explanations.
At dinner that night, she dropped the bombshell.
“Mum, Dad Im moving out. For uni. And work.”
Her mother went pale. “You cant! How will you manage alone? Anything could happen!”
“Nothing happens to everyone else. Why would it happen to me?”
“But here, well help you. Out there”
Her father cut in. “Where will you live? Some dingy flat? Youve got everything here!”
“Ive checked. The halls are nice, right in the city centre. And after uni, Ill get a good job.” Her voice was firm.
She didnt know if shed convinced them, but they relented.
Reality hit hard. Student life was nothing like shed painted it. Her grant barely covered rent, and even with their occasional help, money vanished fast. She learned to skimp on everything.
Visits home were worseher parents fussed, her father turning up with bags of groceries. But graduation came. She landed an office job, rented a flat nearby. Exhausting, yesbut hers.
*My future is in my hands now.*
At twenty-five, she thought, *Tired of renting. Maybe I should buy?* A mortgage was her only optionno family home to return to, no inheritance.
Her parents promised a little help, but shed need a loan. Reluctantly, they agreed, though they still hoped shed come back.
Her dream came true: a two-bed flat. But life got harder. Bills swallowed her pay, bonuses shrank. She refused to ask for help.
*This was my choice. Ill manage.*
Then, one evening, she bumped into Charlotte, an old uni mate.
“Emily! God, its been ages! Lets grab coffeemy treat!”
Emily hesitatedno spare cashbut Charlotte insisted.
Over pizza, Charlotte stared as Emily devoured her slice. “Blimey, when was the last time you ate?”
Emily shrugged. “Bought a flat. Paying the mortgage.”
“Brilliant! Rent out the spare roomI know someone looking. My brother, Oliver. Decent bloke, works hard. Pays on time.”
Emily balked. “A stranger? No way.”
But the figure Charlotte named made her pause.
“Fine Ill meet him.”
Oliver was quiet, kept to himself. No small talk, just nods in the hallway. Then one night, Emily made too much shepherds pie.
“Oliver want some?”
He blinked. “Seriously?”
“Cant eat it all.”
He devoured two helpings, then brought out custard creams for tea. They talked. Laughed. After that, meals became shared. Groceries, too.
Months later, he admitted, “Emily Ive got to go home for a fortnight. But Ill be back.”
She nodded, but that night, the flat felt empty.
*I miss him.*
A week passed. Her appetite vanished. She roasted chickenher favouritebut just stared out the window, watching autumn leaves fall.
Thenthe door opened.
She bolted to the hallway. Oliver stood there, arms full of bags, grinning.
“Missed you, Em. Couldnt stay away.”
Her heart leapt as he pulled her close.
“Mum packed enough food for an army. You sort ityoure better at that.”
But neither let go.
The chicken disappeared. So did the steak-and-ale pies his mum sent. They were happy.
A year later, their daughter was born.
Now Oliver races home every nightto his two favourite girls.
He couldnt imagine life without them.
