“Mum, Dad, get the spare room ready. Im coming home. With my son.”
Emily didnt ask, nor did she inform. She spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. Mum blinked at her phone in stunned silence, while Dad set his fork down, appetite suddenly gone.
Louise, the elder sister, felt a familiar chill creep up her spine. She knew this wouldnt be pleasantEmily hadnt spoken to them in three years. But even Louise hadnt expected *this* as an opening line.
“No,” Dad said sharply, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Theres no space here. You made your choicesnow you deal with them.”
“Oh, come off it! As if theres *literally* nowhere to put us,” Emily scoffed. “Louise can clear outshes single, its easier for her. Or stick her on the sofa in the kitchen. What, are you *that* heartless?”
Louises breath caught. Shed grown up with Emilys theatrics, but that didnt make them any less infuriating.
Despite Dads refusal, Louises mind was already racingbecause history had taught her one thing: Emily *always* got her way. She bulldozed through life, treating everyone like personal assistants, and somehow, people caved. Louise? She was the quiet one, the peacekeeper, the one whod rather fold than fight.
And Emily *loved* that about her.
“Emily, love… we just cant,” Mum said gently. “Were still paying off your uni loans, and Louise helps with the billsshe doesnt *have* to, but she does. We cant manage you *and* a baby on top of that.”
“So you dont care what happens to your own daughter and grandson?!” Emily shrieked. “Are you *serious* right now?!”
“Emily. Enough,” Dad snapped. “I wont be spoken to like that.” Then he hung up.
Mum tutted*bit harsh, wasnt it?*but relief flickered in her eyes. The rest of the evening passed in heavy silence.
Louise remembered how it all started. The pattern was set early: Emily wanted something, Emily screamed until she got it, and the world rearranged itself to accommodate her.
…Louise was six years older. Their parents loved them both, sure, but Emily? Emily was *spoiled*. Partly because Mum and Dad thought theyd cracked parenting by then. Partly because money had been tight when Louise was littleshed learned frugality early.
Emily, meanwhile, made up for lost time.
Her first proper tantrum came at ten. She wanted a dognot just any dog, a *Labrador*. A massive, slobbery commitment in a tiny terraced house. The logic was laughable, but Emily didnt care.
“If you dont get me a puppy, Ill *do something*!” she threatened.
And that was it. Mum panicked. Dad caved. They brought home a Labrador, and guess who ended up walking it? Louise and Mum. Emily was always “too busy.”
Same story with the *Harry Potter* summer camp her classmate was going to. Four days. *Two grand.*
“Sophias going! Why cant I? If you dont let me, Ill *run away*!”
“Go on, then. Theyll send you back in disgrace,” Dad muttered.
They paid anyway. Easier than the meltdown. But easy choices? Theyre rarely the right ones.
By sixth form, Emily announced she was moving to London for uniwith Sophia, naturally.
“Im not rotting in this backwater,” she declared.
Louise almost laughed. Emilys grades were… optimistic. No way shed get into a top uni with a years half-arsed revision.
Then the guilt-tripping started.
“Youd *deny* your own daughter an education? Fine, maybe Ill turn to *prostitution* then! And itll be *your fault*!”
Dad aged five years that year. Mum lived on valium. Emily? Thriving.
She got inbarely. Six months later, she bragged to Louise:
“Guess what? Ive moved in with my boyfriend. His familys loadedbuilders or something. We have *takeaway every night*.”
Louise blinked. “What about uni?”
“Ugh, *always* with the lectures! Im living like *royalty* now. Hes taking me to meet his parents soon.”
Two months later? Tears.
“He *flirts* with everyone! But he *says* Im special, and he pays for *everything*Im not ditching that!”
Louise bit her tongue. Arguing was pointless.
“Then dont complain to me,” she finally said.
Emily hung up. Radio silence followed.
Then*pregnancy announcement*.
“But… what about your degree?!” Mum gasped. (Theyd just taken out *another* loan.)
“*Pfft.* Im dropping out. Not dragging a baby to lectures, am I?”
“Youre *throwing your life away*!” Dad roared. “We *sacrificed everything* for you!”
“And Im *using* that sacrificejust not how *you* wanted.” *Click.*
Three years of nothing. Now? Suddenly, she *needed* them.
Grandma Margaret took her in, of course. “How *could* you abandon your own flesh and blood?!” she scolded Dad.
“I *tried* to meet my grandson. She shut me out. Now she wants to *kick Louise out*the one paying *our* bills! Thats *fair* to you?”
“Family sticks together!”
“Family doesnt *blackmail* each other,” Dad said firmly.
A month later? Grandmas tune changed. “*Shes impossible! Orders me about, moans nonstop…*”
Mum and Dad *ached*guilt, judgement, all of it. But for the first time? They *didnt* bend.
And Louise? Shed never been prouder.
