“All Because of You”
“Mum, Dad, get the spare room ready. I’m coming home. With my son.”
Emily didnt askshe didnt even inform them. Her tone was a command. Mum froze, staring at the phone. Dad set his fork down, appetite gone.
Charlotte, the elder daughter, felt a familiar chill crawl up her spine. She knew this wouldnt be a pleasant conversationher sister had been silent for three years. But she never expected Emily to drop this bombshell.
“No,” Dad cut in, sharp and firm. “Theres no space here. You made your choices; you deal with them.”
“Oh, come off it! Like theres *nowhere* to put us! Charlotte can clear outshes single, its easier for her. Or shove a sofa in the kitchen for her. What, youd rather see me homeless?”
Charlottes breath caught. She was used to Emilys outbursts, but they never stung less.
Despite Dads refusal, Charlottes mind racedshed probably have to find a flat. It always ended this way. Emily bulldozed through life, demanding, shaming, until she got what she wanted. Charlotte? Quiet. Accommodating. The peacekeeper.
And Emily *always* took advantage.
“Emily, love we cant,” Mum said gently. “Were still paying off your uni loans. Charlotte helps with billsshe doesnt have to. We cant manage you *and* a baby too.”
“So youd leave your own daughteryour *grandson*on the streets? Are you *serious*?” Emily shrieked.
“Enough. I wont be spoken to like that,” Dad snapped, ending the call.
Mum sighed, muttering about his harshnessbut her face said she agreed. Dinner passed in suffocating silence.
Charlotte remembered how it began. In their family, it was always Emilys wayor a storm of tantrums.
Charlotte was six years older. Their parents loved them bothbut Emily was indulged. Maybe because theyd struggled financially when Charlotte was young, and shed learned frugality. Emily? She made up for lost time.
Her first meltdown came at ten. She *had* to have a puppynot just any, but a golden retriever. Expensive. High-maintenance. Mum and Dad balkedkeeping a big dog in their two-bed flat was madness. But Emily didnt care.
“Buy me one, or Ill *hurt* myself!” she threatened.
They caved. Of course. And guess who walked and fed the dog? Charlotte and Mum.
Then came the *Harry Potter* camp. A four-day fantasy retreat£1,500. “Sophies going! Why cant I? If you dont send me, Ill *run away*!”
Dad scoffed. “Go on, then. Theyll drag you back.”
They paid anyway. Easier than the meltdown.
At seventeen, Emily announced shed apply to Oxfordwith Sophie.
“I wont rot in this dump,” she sneered.
Charlotte almost laughed. Emilys grades were dismal. No chance of a scholarship. But Emily wheedled, guilt-tripped”Youd let your daughter be *uneducated*? Ill end up on the streets! *Your fault!*”
They crumbled. Hired tutors. Took loans. Dad aged overnight; Mum lived on sedatives. Emily? Thrived.
She got in. Six months later, she bragged to Charlotte:
“Guess what? Ive moved in with my boyfriend. His familys loadedconstruction tycoons. We eat sushi *every night*.”
Charlotte barely reacted. “What about your degree?”
“Ugh, *boring*. Hes taking me to meet his parents soon!”
Months later, Emilys tone changedwhiny, jealous.
“He flirts with *everyone*! Says Im special butugh! Still, hes *rich*. Im not leaving.”
Charlotte shrugged. “Then stop complaining.”
Silence.
Second year: Emily announced her pregnancy. Mum paled.
“Lovewhat about uni?”
“Im dropping out. Not hauling a baby to lectures.”
Dad exploded. “We *broke ourselves* for you!”
“You gave me a chanceI took it. Just differently.”
“He wont marry you! What then?”
“My life. My choice.” Click.
Three years of radio silence. Until she needed help.
Grandma Margaret took her inof course.
“William! Your *own flesh and blood*!”
“That flesh and blood ghosted us. Now she wants Charlotte *evicted*?”
“*Family* sticks together!”
A month later, complaints poured in. Emily ruled Grandmas housedemanding, ungrateful, spinning tales of her “cruel” parents.
Mum and Dad achedguilt, shame, Grandmas scorn. But for once, they held firm. No bending. No breaking.
And Charlotte? Shed never been prouder.
