**A Fathers Love?**
*Monday, 12th March*
“You can call me Dad now.”
“Mum, are you seriously taking his side again?” Emily stood rigid in front of her mother, lips trembling as tears threatened to spill.
“Emily, what do you mean ‘again’? And honestly, youre in the wrong here! Youre completely wrong, love!” retorted Irene, her voice sharp.
“Mum, that was *my* food! We agreedIm not made of money! I cant afford to feed some random bloke!” Emilys voice cracked, the frustration boiling over.
“Ungrateful little madam! I raised you, fed you, and now youre stingy over a block of cheese and some ham?!” came the half-slurred shout from the living roomNathan, her stepfather.
“Exactly! Have you no shame?” Irene chimed in, backing him up.
Emily buried her face in her hands. The tears won. These days, her life felt like something out of a nightmare.
…
Her real dad had left before she turned three. Irene had once offhandedly mentioned that she and WilliamEmilys fatherhad never loved each other. A fling turned pregnancy, and Williams parents had strong-armed him into marriage. Two miserable years later, he packed his bags and vanished.
Irene poured everything into raising Emily aloneuntil she turned twelve. That morning, her mum sat her down for “a serious chat.”
“Em, youre old enough to understand…” Irene hedged.
“Yeah?” Emily replied warily.
“Ive met someone. I love him. Were getting marriedhell move in soon. Hope thats alright?”
Emily hadnt been thrilled, but shed shrugged. Plenty of kids at school had stepdads. It wasnt the end of the world.
Then Nathan walked in.
“Call me Dad,” hed announced.
Emily nodded mutely, but the word *Dad* never left her lips. Nathan made it clear early on: “I wasnt spoiled, and I wont spoil you.” From that day, her life became a battleground.
“Mum, Im going to the library with Alice, then well hang out,” Emily said one afternoon.
“Who do you think you are, giving orders? Irene, youre letting this brat walk all over you!” Nathan barked.
“Im *not* a brat!” Emily shot back, while Irene silently scrubbed dishes.
“Watch your mouth! One hourlibrary, then straight home. Not back by three? Youll stand in the corner on dried peas. See how you like that!” Nathans “parenting” always leaned into cruelty.
“Mum, I *am* going out!”
“Love, listen to your father. Hes head of the house,” Irene murmured.
From then on, Emily lived for Nathans business tripsbrief respites where she could breathe, see friends, exist without walking on eggshells.
…
Six years passed. Emily turned eighteen, got into uni. Shed dreamed of freedoma dorm room, finally escaping that toxic flat.
Then reality struck:
“Dorms are for out-of-town students. No spaces left.”
“Shouldve picked a uni farther away,” she muttered, trudging home.
By mid-September, shed befriended two coursematesJess and Sophiewho also wanted out. They found a one-bed flat to share.
“Mum, Im moving out. Its closer to uni, and”
“Over my dead body! Youll turn that place into a brothel! Is this about bringing boys over? Youll flunk your degree!” Nathan cut in.
“Whats it to *you*?”
“Excuse me?! Thats how you speak to your father? Your student loan wont cover rent! Irenes on half-pay, *Ive* had cutsand you want to swan off? Not a bloody penny from me!”
“Ill earn it myself!” Emily slammed her bedroom door.
But evening jobs were scarce. The dream of independenceof happinessfizzled.
…
One morning, a strangers laughter woke her. In the hallway, Nathan embraced a lanky guy.
“Em, meet my son, Dave. Lived with his mum in the countryside. Moving in with us.”
“*Where*? Weve only got two bedrooms.”
“Ill crash on the fold-out in the kitchen for now,” Dave said, grinning.
Emily was horrified. Later, she confronted Irene:
“Mum, how will four of us fit in this shoebox?”
“Well manage. Better a crowded house than a lonely one.”
“Are you *hearing* yourself?”
“Emily, we rely on Nathans income. I wont rock the boat. Dave stays.”
Now the kitchen was Daves bedroom. No space for breakfast. Emily left hungry. Returning, shed often find Nathan and Dave at the table.
“Oi, sis! Join us!” Dave called once.
“Piss off.”
“Watch your mouth, you little brat!” Nathan snarled.
“Dad, relax. Emily, come here.” Dave grabbed her shoulders.
“Get *off* me!” She fled to her room, sobbing.
The next morning, she tried again:
“Mum, didnt Dad buy this flat for us?”
“Well… yes.”
“So its partly mine?”
“Legally, its mine, but… Why?”
“I want *them* out!”
“You ungrateful cow! Not a penny more! Buy your own food!” Nathan roared.
Emily started budgeting fiercely. Yet her groceries kept vanishingespecially the cheese and ham shed just bought. The final straw.
“Mum, if Im wrong, pay me back for what they stole, and Ill leave!”
“Ha! Pack your crap and *go*!”
She stuffed a bag and left.
Crashing at her mate Hannahs, she switched to part-time studies, found work, and avoided home.
Nearly a year later, she spotted Irene leaving a dorm.
“Mum? Whatre you doing here?”
“Living here.”
“What about the flat?”
“Oh, love…” Irenes voice wavered. “After you left, Nathan convinced me to sign it overso you couldnt claim anything. Then Dave started bringing girls *into your room*. Once, I came home to some stranger in *my* bed.”
“And you…?”
“What could I do? The deeds in his name. The police said I could live thereIm on the tenancybut the transfers legal. So I got this dorm room through work. Wanted to tell you, but…” Irene burst into tears.
“Christ,” Emily sighed.
“Dont hate me, love. I lost us both a home. Paying for it now.”
Emily hugged her, then walked away. That evening, she returned to her shared flatsmall, but *hers*. Clean. Quiet. Safe.
She still sees Irene, who talks about divorcing Nathan and fighting for half the flat. Emily listens, but stays detached. Shes done with that mess. Too tired to care.
