Unseen Expectations

The warm glow of the setting sun spilled through the windows, casting long shadows across the living room. Amelia sat on the couch with a notepad in her lap, jotting down ideas for an upcoming event. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she tapped her pen against her lips. Ethan, seated in the armchair across the room, was leafing through a stack of photographs, his focus on anything but her.

The house was quiet—too quiet—until a sharp knock at the door shattered the stillness.

Amelia and Ethan exchanged glances. He shrugged and rose, his steps measured as he went to answer it.

Standing on the porch, dressed in her usual polished style, was Margaret Reed. Her presence was as commanding as ever, her navy-blue dress and pearls a stark contrast to the soft evening light.

"Margaret," Ethan greeted politely, stepping aside.

"Good evening, Ethan," Margaret said, stepping into the house with a confident stride. Her gaze immediately began its familiar inspection, noting every detail as though she were a critic judging a stage set.

"Mom," Amelia called out as she entered the room, her voice carrying a mixture of surprise and apprehension. "I didn't know you were coming."

Margaret smiled, but it was the kind of smile that rarely held warmth. "A mother shouldn't need an appointment to see her daughter."

Amelia managed a tight smile. "Would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely," Margaret replied, settling into the armchair Ethan had vacated.

Ethan glanced at Amelia. "I'll leave you two to talk," he said, his tone neutral, before retreating to his study.

Once the door clicked shut behind him, Margaret's composure shifted. She leaned forward slightly, her sharp eyes locking onto Amelia. "Now that we're alone, we need to talk about something important."

Amelia's shoulders stiffened, but she kept her voice calm. "What is it, Mom?"

Margaret's smile vanished. "It's time you started thinking about your future—about your family. When are you and Ethan planning to have children?"

Amelia blinked, taken aback by her mother's bluntness. "Mom, we're not ready for that yet. Ethan and I have an understanding."

"An understanding?" Margaret's voice was laced with disbelief. "Marriage isn't about 'understandings.' It's about building a family. A child will strengthen your bond and ensure your place in Ethan's life."

The words stung, not because Amelia believed them, but because they revealed so much about her mother's mindset. "Ethan and I don't need a child to validate our relationship," she said firmly. "We'll start a family when we're ready—not because it's expected of us."

Margaret leaned back, her gaze narrowing. "You're being naive, Amelia. Men don't wait forever. They need stability, and a child provides that. Without one, you're leaving the door wide open for—"

"Stop," Amelia cut in, her voice rising. "You don't get to dictate how Ethan and I live our lives. This is our marriage, not yours."

Margaret stood abruptly, her face flush with frustration. "I'm only trying to protect you, Amelia. You think you know everything, but you don't. You'll thank me one day when you realize I was right."

Amelia's jaw tightened. She crossed her arms, her voice cold and measured. "Maybe I don't know everything, but I do know this: I won't live my life by your rules. I'm not the scared little girl you used to control."

Margaret's eyes glistened, but her resolve remained firm. "You're making a mistake, Amelia. I hope you don't regret it."

Amelia didn't respond, her silence a wall Margaret couldn't break through. Without another word, Margaret grabbed her handbag and swept out of the house, the sound of the door slamming reverberating through the quiet space.

---

Later That Night

Amelia sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped. The argument with her mother replayed in her mind, each word sharp and cutting. She was angry, not just at Margaret but at herself for letting the conversation affect her so deeply.

Ethan walked in, his tie loosened and shirt untucked. "Your mom left pretty quickly," he remarked, sitting on the bed beside her.

"She always knows how to make an exit," Amelia muttered, running a hand through her hair.

Ethan studied her face. "What happened?"

"She brought up the baby thing again," Amelia admitted, her voice tight. "She thinks I need to have a child to keep you—like you're some prize I need to win."

Ethan frowned, his posture stiffening. "That's ridiculous."

"I know," Amelia said quickly. "But it's her way of thinking. She believes a child is the answer to everything."

Ethan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "And what do you think?"

Amelia hesitated before replying, her voice firm. "I think it's none of her business. We made this arrangement for our reasons, and we'll handle it on our terms. I'm not letting her—or anyone—pressure me into something I'm not ready for."

Ethan nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Good. Because the last thing we need is more expectations hanging over our heads."

For a moment, the room was quiet again, but it was different this time—charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions neither of them was ready to address.

As Amelia lay down that night, her mother's words still echoed in her mind. But instead of doubt, they left her with a renewed sense of determination. This was her life, her choices, and she would not let anyone else dictate the path she took.