**Who Lives with Your Man**
Simon Andrews, or just Sim, had recently been promoted to department head at a major firm in Manchester. The promotion didn’t come easy—years of quiet, honest work, without flashy ambitions or shortcuts. He wasn’t the loudest leader, but he was reliable, and his colleagues respected that. At work, the congratulations were polite; at home, it was a proper celebration.
No one was prouder than his mother—Margaret. She’d raised him alone, carting him to doctors, paying for tutors, scrimping on herself just so he could get into university. And now—department head. Her pride. She insisted he treat his colleagues to homemade pies and salads. Not shop-bought—straight from her hands.
On the day of the celebration, Sim stopped by his mother’s to pick up the food. She’d already left for a doctor’s appointment but had everything ready—neatly packed in containers in the fridge. Knowing he’d struggle carrying it all alone, he asked Emily—a new coworker—to come along. She agreed eagerly.
Emily was the kind of woman who turned heads. Blonde, hazel-eyed, long-legged—men noticed her, and Sim was no exception. Colleagues whispered that she wasn’t just friendly—she lingered near him, slipped personal comments into work chats.
When they entered his mother’s flat, Emily’s first remark was:
“Your mum’s place is lovely. So cosy, so neat.”
Then a little black dog dashed out, barking.
“And who’s this?!” Emily shrunk back, as if afraid for her tights.
“That’s Bumble,” Sim said, scooping the little dog up. “Don’t worry, she’s gentle.”
“Bumble? Cute. Just keep her away—wouldn’t want scratches.”
Sim frowned but didn’t reply before a plump black cat sauntered in, rubbing against his legs with a soft meow.
“And this is Lord Whiskers,” Sim said fondly, pulling a bit of fish from the fridge. “Here you go, mate.”
He set the pieces in the cat’s bowl and crouched to watch him eat.
“Quite the menagerie,” Emily muttered. “Your mum’s not allergic, is she? Keeping pets in a flat like this… bit odd.”
“Are you allergic?” Sim asked flatly.
“Not sure. We never had pets. They’re dirty, fur everywhere… gross. Unhygienic.”
Sim silently packed the containers. His expression hardened. Emily, oblivious, stood by the door, eyeing the animals warily.
“I’ll stop by tonight to walk them,” Sim said, smiling—not at her, but at Bumble and Lord Whiskers. “Mum’ll scold me for overfeeding them again, but what can you do?”
“And you put up with all that hassle? Walks, feeding, grooming…”
“Like having kids. But they’re loyal. Love you for nothing in return.”
Emily wasn’t listening. She was already at the door, impatient.
“Come on. Lunch break’s nearly over. I’ll get the door.”
On the way back, she chattered about the new canteen menu, Vera’s new blouse, office gossip. Sim nodded but barely heard. One thought echoed: “What did I ever see in her?”
At the office, his team surprised him—a stainless-steel thermos, practical for work and travel. They toasted with sparkling wine, praised his mum’s cooking. Emily hovered nearby, but Sim felt nothing now—no warmth, just emptiness.
“Could you drop me home?” she asked at the end of the night.
“Sorry, no. Got an important meeting.”
That “meeting” was his mum.
“How’d it go?” she greeted him warmly.
“Brilliant. They loved your cooking. Nearly forgot about me,” he chuckled, kissing her cheek.
“And that girl who came by? You like her?”
“Emily? Nah. I lied before, saying I was seeing someone—just didn’t want you to worry.”
“I see. So when you do meet someone, what’s she got to be like?”
Sim thought.
“Respects you. Loves our pets. They’re family.”
Margaret hugged him.
“Most importantly, she’s got to love *you*. Then she’ll accept me, Bumble, and Lord Whiskers without a fuss.”
He nodded, grabbed the lead, and opened the door. The dog and cat bounded out, and he strolled with them through the evening-lit courtyard.
From the window, Margaret watched her grown son toss a stick for Bumble, chat to Lord Whiskers like a friend, and whispered into the dark:
“Lord, let him find the right one. Someone who loves him—so we’ll *all* be hers.”