“You won’t see your granddaughter again,” snapped my daughter-in-law before blocking my number.
“Margaret, would you mind if I did the washing up? My hands are itching to keep busy,” offered Emily, peering into the kitchen where her mother-in-law sat with her tea.
Margaret glanced up from her newspaper, studying Emily carefully. She stood in the doorway in her usual dressing gown, hair loosely tied back, but her eyes were oddly brightfeverish, almost.
“Oh, love, dont worry about it. You were up late working on that presentation yesterday. Ive got this,” Margaret replied, folding the paper.
“No, really, let me. You do so much around the house, and I just feel like Im in the way,” Emily insisted, already moving toward the sink.
Margaret frowned. Something was off. Emily was usually reserved around her, quietly polite. But now she was fidgeting like a schoolgirl before exams.
“Wheres Sophie?” Margaret asked, referring to her four-year-old granddaughter.
“Still asleep. She stayed up late watching cartoons,” Emily answered, scrubbing a plate with unusual vigour.
Margaret stepped closer, standing beside her at the sink. Emily smelled of her usual perfumethe one Andrew had bought her for her birthdaybut there was something else beneath it. Something tense.
“Emily, darling, whats wrong? You seem wound up today.”
Emily froze, a wet plate clutched in her hands. Her shoulders stiffened, fingers tightening.
“Its nothing. Just didnt sleep well, I suppose.”
“And wheres Andrew? He promised to take Sophie to the park today,” Margaret pressed, sensing the air thickening between them.
“Andrew wont be coming,” Emily said sharply, slamming the plate onto the drying rack with a clatter.
Margaret flinched. “What do you mean? He said just yesterday”
“Margaret,” Emily turned slowly, and her mother-in-law saw the redness in her eyes, the telltale signs of tears. “We need to talk.”
Margarets pulse quickened. She sank into a chair, her legs suddenly weak.
“Sit down, love. Tell me whats happened.”
Emily remained standing, drying her hands with such force she might as well have been trying to scrub her skin off.
“Andrew and I are getting a divorce.”
The words dropped like stones into the quiet kitchen. Margaret felt something inside her snap, as though every string holding her together had been cut at once.
“What what do you mean?” she managed, voice trembling. “Just last night everything was fine. You had dinner together, Sophie was reciting her nursery rhymes”
“Margaret, weve been strangers for six months. We just pretended for Sophies sake. But we cant anymore.”
Margaret tried to stand, but her legs wouldnt obey. She gripped the edge of the table instead.
“But why? What happened? Cant it be fixed? Should I speak to Andrew?”
Emily gave a bitter laugh.
“You cant speak sense into Andrew anymore. He packed his things last night and left. For her.”
“Her?” Margaret whispered, though deep down, she already knew.
“His new fling. Emma from the office. The one hes been raving about for monthshow clever she is, how understanding.”
Emily sat across from her, placing her hands on the table. They were shaking.
“Margaret, I know you love him. Hes your only son. But hes betrayed our family.”
“Emily, sweetheart,” Margaret reached for her hands, but Emily pulled away. “Men do foolish things sometimes. Itll pass. Andrew will come to his senses. He loves Sophie”
“Oh, he loves her,” Emily nodded. “So much that hes decided weekends with her will be enough. How convenient, isnt it? All the fun, none of the responsibility.”
“And you? You loved him too, didnt you?”
Emily closed her eyes, dragging a hand over her face.
“I did. For five years. I gave up my career at a good firm because he asked me to stay home. Cooked, cleaned, raised his child. And all the while, he was making eyes at secretaries.”
Margarets throat tightened. Shed always suspected something was offthe late nights at work, the sudden increase in “business trips.”
“Emily, are we sure about this? Could it just be a rough patch? Every marriage goes through them.”
“Margaret, he told me outrighthes in love with someone else. That he only stayed for Sophie. Romantic, isnt it?”
Tears streamed down Emilys face, but her voice stayed firm.
“What happens now?” Margaret whispered.
“Im filing for divorce. Sophie stays with me. Were moving to my mums in Manchester.”
“Manchester?” Margaret gasped. “Why so far?”
“Because everything here reminds me of him. And because my mums offered me a job at her company.”
Margaret stood, walking to the window. Children played outside, including a little girl Sophies age. Her heart ached.
“And Sophie? Shes settled hereher nursery, her friends. Shes used to me…”
“Shell adjust. Kids adapt quickly.”
“Emily, I know youre angry at Andrew. And you have every right to be. But why punish me? What have I done?”
Emily whirled around.
“Nothing? Who spent Andrews whole life telling him he was special, that rules didnt apply to him? Who excused every misbehaviour since he was in school?”
“I loved him”
“Loved him? Or spoiled him?” Emilys voice turned sharp. “Remember when he dumped his first girlfriend at uni after finding out she was pregnant? You said, ‘Good lad, dodged a bullet there.'”
Margarets face burned.
“That was years ago”
“And when he skipped child support for his first kid? ‘She shouldve known what she was getting into,’ you said. And now youre surprised hes walked out on us?”
“Emily, please”
“How should I say it, then?” Emily stepped closer. “You raised a selfish man, Margaret. Someone who only thinks of himself. And now Im supposed to stay quiet and take it?”
Sophie wandered in then, pyjamas rumpled, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“Mummy, why are you shouting?”
Emilys face softened instantly. She crouched down.
“We werent shouting, sweetheart. Just talking. Go wash up, Ill make breakfast.”
“Wheres Daddy? He promised wed go to the park.”
Margaret and Emily exchanged glances. Sophie stared up at them, trusting, and Margarets heart broke.
“Daddy Daddy cant today,” Emily said softly. “Hes busy.”
“Can he tomorrow?”
“I dont know, Sophie. I dont know.”
The little girl frowned but trotted off to the bathroom. Once the door clicked shut, Emily straightened, meeting Margarets eyes.
“And now I have to explain why her father walked out.”
“Emily, love,” Margaret reached for her hands again. “I know youre angry. At Andrew, at me. But think of Sophie. She loves me. Why take her away?”
“Because youll teach her to forgive men like him. That women should suffer in silence. I wont let my daughter repeat my mistakes.”
“Im not like that”
“You are, Margaret. Remember when Andrew lost his temper after Sophie was born? I came to you in tears, and you said, ‘Men get stressed with newborns. Be wiser.'”
Margaret paled. She remembered. At the time, shed thought it was sound advice.
“But he never did it again”
“Because I told him Id leave if he ever did. Not because he changed.”
Sophies humming drifted from the bathroomsome silly little tune she always sang while washing her hands. The sound, once so ordinary, now felt like goodbye.
“When are you leaving?” Margaret asked, voice trembling.
“Tomorrow. The tickets are bought.”
“Tomorrow? Thats so sooncant you wait till the weekend?”
“Margaret, the longer we stay, the harder itll be for Sophie.”
“And what about me?” Margaret whispered. “Do you think this isnt breaking me?”
Emily turned to the window.
“You shouldve thought of that when you were raising your son.”
Sophie came bouncing back, cheeks rosy from scrubbing.
“Mummy, can we go to the park with Granny today? Theyve got new swings!”
Margaret looked at Emily, pleading.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Emily said after a pause. “Go with Granny.”
Sophie cheered, rushing off to get dressed. Margaret watched her go before turning back to Emily.
“Is this the last time?”
“Yes.”
“Emily, please Dont cut me out completely. We could call, I could visit”
“No,” Emily said firmly. “You wont see Sophie again. Ill block your number, and well start fresh. Without any of you.”
Margarets world shattered. She slumped into a chair, covering her face.
“You know Ill die without her.”
“And I nearly died living with your son. Now its my turn to live.”
Sophie came running back, shoes on, ready to go.
“Granny, lets go! I wanna go on the slide!”
Margaret wiped her eyes, stood, and took Sophies hand.
“Alright, my love. Lets go.”
At the park, Sophie laughed on the swings, babbling about her favourite cartoons. Margaret watched, memorising every grin, every giggle, knowing tomorrow it would all be gone.
“Granny, why are you crying?” Sophie asked, hopping off the swing.
“Just the wind, sweetheart. Just the wind.”
When they got home, Emily was already packing. Sophies face fell.
“Mummy, where are we going?”
“To Grandma Lindas, sweetheart. Itll be fun.”
“Will Daddy come?”
“No. Daddys staying here.”
“What about Granny Margie?”
Emily glanced at Margaret, and for a second, something like regret flickered in her eyes. Then it was gone.
“Granny Margies staying too.”
“But I dont wanna go without Granny!” Sophie wailed. “She reads me stories!”
“Ill read to you in Manchester,” Emily said gently.
“But you dont do the voices like Granny!”
Margaret knelt, pulling Sophie into a hug.
“My darling girl. Youll go with Mummy, and Ill love you every day from here. Ill think of you always.”
“Will we come back?”
“I dont know, sweetheart. I dont know.”
Sophie cried harder, clinging to Margaret, who stroked her hair, feeling her own heart tear apart.
“Mum, maybe maybe dont?” Margaret whispered to Emily. “Look how upset she is.”
“Better she adjusts now than suffers later,” Emily replied, though her voice wavered.
That night, after Sophie fell asleep, Margaret tried one last time.
“Emily, I know I failed you. But give me a chance to make it right.”
“Its too late, Margaret. Years too late.”
“What if I talk to Andrew? Make him see sense?”
Emily scoffed.
“You wont. Hes too wrapped up in his new life. And I dont want a man who has to be forced to love his family.”
The next morning, Margaret helped load their bags into the taxi. Sophie sobbed, clinging to her.
“Granny, come with us!”
“I cant, my love. I cant.”
Emily lifted Sophie into the car, then paused before shutting the door.
“Goodbye, Margaret.”
“Goodbye, Emily.”
The taxi pulled away. Margaret stood on the pavement, numb, until Mrs. Thompson from next door approached.
“Margaret, love, whats happened? Whereve Emily and Sophie gone?”
“Gone,” Margaret murmured. “Gone for good.”
She wandered back into the empty house, sinking into her armchair. On the table sat Sophies forgotten toya ragged stuffed rabbit.
Margaret picked it up, held it tight, and knew her life was over.
