I Married a Mama's Boy

"You are not for him!"

Betty froze.

The words had come so sharply that for a moment, she wondered whether she had heard them correctly.

Across the grand living room, Freddie's mother stood with her arms folded, her expensive pearl necklace resting against the neckline of her cream blouse. Her expression was calm, almost pleasant, but there was nothing pleasant about the way she looked at Betty.

Betty glanced down at the engagement ring on her finger.

"I beg your pardon?"

Moms stepped closer.

"You heard me. You are not the woman I want for my son."

Betty swallowed. She had spent the entire afternoon choosing what to wear for this visit. She had even bought a small box of chocolates because Freddie had told her his mother loved them.

Now the box sat untouched on the coffee table between them.

"Freddie loves me," Betty said quietly.

Moms gave a short, humorless laugh.

"Freddie loves many things. That doesn't mean he knows what's good for him."

"He's not a child."

The words escaped before Betty could stop them.

Moms' expression changed.

For the first time, the older woman looked genuinely offended.

"Excuse me?"

Betty felt her heartbeat quicken. She wanted to apologize, to smooth things over, to remind herself that this was Freddie's mother.

But she was tired of being treated like an intruder in the life of the man she loved.

"Freddie is an adult," she repeated. "He has the right to choose who he wants to marry."

"And you think that choice should be you?"

"I know it should be me."

Silence settled over the room.

Moms stared at her as though Betty had just committed an unforgivable offense.

Then she smiled.

It was the kind of smile that made Betty's stomach tighten.

"Let me tell you something, young woman. Freddie has spent his entire life with me. I know what he needs. I know what makes him happy. And I know when someone is trying to take him away."

Betty's fingers curled around the little gift bag beside her.

"I'm not trying to take him away from you."

"Then why are you wearing his ring?"

Betty looked down at it again.

"Because he asked me to marry him."

Moms' smile disappeared.

Before she could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway.

"Mom?"

Freddie appeared in the doorway.

His eyes moved from his mother to Betty. He immediately noticed the tension.

"What's going on?"

Moms turned toward him, her expression changing so quickly that Betty almost doubted what she had just witnessed.

"Nothing, darling."

Betty looked at Freddie.

"Your mother was just telling me that I'm not the woman she wants you to marry."

Freddie's face tightened.

"Mom?"

Moms sighed.

"I was only trying to make her understand that marriage is a serious decision."

"You told me you wanted to meet her," Freddie said. "You said you were willing to get to know her."

"And I have."

"Then why are you speaking to her like this?"

Moms stared at her son.

For a moment, Betty saw something flash across her face. It wasn't anger.

It was hurt.

The kind of hurt that made Freddie immediately step closer to her.

"Mom, please."

There it was.

That familiar softness in his voice.

Betty watched him reach for his mother's hand.

And suddenly, she understood something she hadn't fully understood before.

Freddie wasn't simply close to his mother.

He was afraid of upsetting her.

Moms squeezed his hand.

"Freddie, I only want what's best for you."

"I know."

"Then you should listen to me."

He hesitated.

Betty's chest tightened.

She wanted him to turn around. She wanted him to take her hand and tell his mother that their relationship was not up for discussion.

Instead, he looked at Betty.

"Can we talk about this later?"

The question hurt more than Moms' insult.

Betty slowly nodded.

"Of course."

She picked up her bag.

Freddie frowned. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Betty, wait."

She stopped near the doorway.

Freddie glanced at his mother, then back at her.

"I'll call you."

Betty managed a small smile.

"Okay."

She left before the tears could fall.

The drive home felt longer than it should have.

Betty kept replaying the conversation in her head.

She remembered Freddie's proposal three months earlier, when he had taken her to a quiet restaurant and told her that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

She remembered how happy she had been.

And now she wondered whether she had been foolish to believe that love would be enough.

Her phone rang.

Freddie.

She answered.

"Betty, please don't be upset."

"I'm not upset with you."

"You're upset."

She closed her eyes.

"Freddie, your mother told me that I'm not good enough for you."

"I know. I heard you."

"And you asked me to talk about it later."

There was a pause.

"I didn't want to make things worse."

Betty stared through the windshield at the traffic ahead.

"Freddie, when are things going to get better?"

"I'll talk to her."

"You've been saying that."

"I mean it this time."

Betty wanted to believe him.

She really did.

But before she could answer, Freddie spoke again.

"There's something else."

Her stomach tightened.

"What?"

"Mom has already made arrangements for the wedding."

Betty blinked.

"What wedding?"

"Our wedding."

She let out a disbelieving laugh.

"Freddie, we haven't even chosen a date."

"I know."

"Then what arrangements?"

He was silent for a moment.

"She booked the venue. She sent invitations to some relatives. She even chose a wedding planner."

Betty gripped the steering wheel.

"Without asking either of us?"

"Yes."

She could barely believe what she was hearing.

"Freddie, that's not normal."

"I know."

"Then why did you let her do it?"

His silence answered her.

Betty felt something inside her sink.

"Freddie?"

"I didn't know she had gone that far."

She wanted to believe him.

But she couldn't ignore the fear growing inside her.

What if Moms wasn't simply a mother who disliked her son's girlfriend?

What if she was a woman who would do anything to keep her son from leaving her?

At the mansion, Moms stood by the window, watching Freddie's car disappear down the driveway.

Her son had followed Betty outside.

He had not come back.

Moms picked up her phone and called someone.

The call was answered almost immediately.

"Hello?"

Moms lowered her voice.

"She's more stubborn than I expected."

A pause.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Moms looked toward the doorway where Freddie had stood moments earlier.

Her expression hardened.

"That girl is not marrying my son."

She ended the call.

Then she looked down at the wedding invitation lying on the table.

Freddie's name was printed beside Betty's.

Moms picked up the invitation and tore it in half.

"If he thinks he can leave me," she whispered, "he has no idea what I am capable of."