“You wont see your granddaughter again,” declared my daughter-in-law before blocking my number.
“Margaret, may I wash the dishes? My hands itch for something to do,” offered Emily, peeking into the kitchen where her mother-in-law sat.
Margaret looked up from her newspaper, studying her daughter-in-law. Emily stood in the doorway in her usual dressing gown, hair tied in a loose bun, but her eyes were oddly brightalmost feverish.
“Oh, dont trouble yourself, dear. You worked late last night on that presentation. Ill manage,” Margaret replied, folding the paper.
“No, really, let me. You do so much around the house, and I just get in the way,” Emily insisted, already moving toward the sink.
Margaret frowned. Something about Emilys manner unsettled her. Normally reserved, even tense in her presence, today she fussed like a schoolgirl before exams.
“Wheres Sophie?” Margaret asked, referring to her four-year-old granddaughter.
“Still asleep. She went to bed late watching cartoons,” Emily answered, scrubbing a plate with unusual vigor.
Margaret stepped closer, joining her at the sink. Emily smelled of the familiar perfumethe one Henry had gifted herbut beneath it lingered something else. Anxiety, perhaps.
“Emily, love, whats wrong? You seem on edge today,” Margaret said gently.
Emily froze, the wet plate clutched in her hands, her fingers tightening.
“Nothings wrong. Just tired, I suppose.”
“Wheres Henry? He promised to take Sophie to the park today,” Margaret pressed, sensing the tension thicken.
“Henry wont be coming,” Emily snapped, slamming the plate into the drying rack with a clatter.
“What do you mean? He said just yesterday”
“Margaret,” Emily turned slowly, her eyes red-rimmed, as if shed been crying. “We need to talk.”
Margarets pulse quickened. She sank onto a chair, legs suddenly weak.
“Sit down, dear. Tell me whats happened.”
Emily remained standing, drying her hands so vigorously it seemed she meant to scrub the skin off.
“Henry and I are divorcing.”
The words dropped into the quiet kitchen like stones into water. Margaret felt something inside her snap, as though every string had been cut at once.
“How how can that be?” she whispered. “Just yesterday, everything was fine. You had dinner together, Sophie recited her nursery rhymes”
“Margaret, weve been strangers for six months. We pretended for Sophies sake. But we cant anymore.”
Margaret tried to stand, but her legs wouldnt obey. She gripped the edge of the table.
“But why? What happened? Cant it be fixed? Should I speak to Henry?”
Emily gave a bitter smile.
“Theres nothing left to say to Henry. He packed his things last night and left. For *her*.”
“Who?” Margaret breathed, though deep down, she already knew.
“His new fling. Olivia, from the office. The one hes spent months praisingso clever, so understanding.”
Emily sat across from her, hands trembling on the table.
“Margaret, I know you love him. Hes your only son. But hes betrayed our family.”
“Emily, darling,” Margaret reached for her hands, but Emily pulled away. “Men sometimes lose their heads. Itll pass. Henry will come to his senses. He adores Sophie”
“Adores her,” Emily nodded. “Which is why hell see her on weekends. How convenientno responsibility, just the fun parts.”
“And you? You loved him once”
Emily closed her eyes, dragging a hand over her face.
“I did. For five years. I gave him a child, left a good job because he wanted a housewife. Cooked, cleaned, waited. While he flirted with secretaries.”
Margarets throat tightened. Shed always suspected something was amissthe late nights, the sudden business trips.
“Perhaps its just a rough patch? Every marriage has them.”
“Margaret, he told me outright he loves someone else. That he stayed with me only for Sophie. Romantic, dont you think?”
Tears slipped down Emilys cheeks, but her voice stayed steady.
“What happens now?” Margaret asked quietly.
“Im filing for divorce. Sophie stays with me. Were moving to my mothers in Manchester.”
“Manchester?” Margaret gasped. “Why so far?”
“Because everything here reminds me of him. And because Mums offered me work.”
Margaret stood, walking to the window. Children played outside, among them a neighbors girl, Sophies age. Her heart ached.
“And Sophie? Her nursery, her friends Shes used to me”
“Shell adjust. Children do.”
“Emily, I understand your anger. But why punish me? What have I done?”
Emily spun around.
“Done? Who spent years telling Henry he was special, that rules didnt apply? Who excused every misdeed, starting with school?”
“I loved him”
“Loved him? Or spoiled him?” Emilys voice turned hard. “Remember when he abandoned his first girlfriend at university after she got pregnant? You said, Good lad, dodged that one.”
Margarets face flushed.
“That was years ago”
“And when he skipped child support for his firstborn? You said, She shouldve thought before having it. Now youre shocked hes left us too?”
“Emily, please”
“How *should* I say it?” Emily stepped closer. “You raised a selfish man, Margaret. Now you expect me to stay silent?”
Sophie appeared in the doorway, pajama-clad and sleepy-eyed.
“Mummy, why are you shouting?”
Emilys expression softened instantly. She crouched before her daughter.
“We werent shouting, sweetheart. Just talking. Go wash up; Ill make breakfast.”
“Wheres Daddy? He promised the park.”
Margaret and Emily exchanged glances. Sophies trusting eyes made Margarets chest tighten.
“Daddy cant today,” Emily said softly. “Hes busy.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I dont know, darling. I dont know.”
Sophie frowned but shuffled to the bathroom. Once the door shut, Emily straightened.
“And now I must explain why her father chose to leave.”
“Emily,” Margaret grasped her hands. “I know youre angry. But think of Sophie. She loves me. Must you take me from her too?”
“Because youll teach her to forgive men anything. That women must endure. I wont let her repeat my mistakes.”
“Im not like that”
“You *are*. Remember when Henry hit me after Sophie was born? I came to you in tears, and you said, Men get stressed with babies. Be wiser.”
Margaret paled. She rememberedand had thought it sound advice.
“But he never did it again”
“Because I threatened to leave. Not because he changed.”
From the bathroom came Sophies off-key singing. The ordinary sound now felt like a farewell.
“When do you leave?” Margarets voice shook.
“Tomorrow. The tickets are bought.”
“Tomorrow? But thats so sooncant you wait till the weekend?”
“The longer we stay, the harder for Sophie.”
“And for me?” Margaret whispered. “Isnt it hard for me?”
Emily turned to the window.
“You shouldve thought of that sooner. When you raised your son.”
Sophie bounded out, cheeks rosy.
“Mummy, can we go to the park with Granny? Theyve new swings!”
Margaret looked at Emily pleadingly.
“Yes, darling,” Emily said after a pause. “Go with Granny.”
Sophie cheered and raced off to dress. Margaret watched her go, then turned back.
“Is this the last time?”
“Yes.”
“Emily, I beg youdont cut me from Sophies life. We could call, I could visit”
“No,” Emily said firmly. “You wont see her again. Ill block your number. Were starting fresh.”
Margarets world crumbled. She covered her face.
“You know Ill wither without her?”
“And I nearly withered with your son. Now its my turn to live.”
Sophie dashed in, dressed and eager.
“Granny, lets go! I want the slide!”
Margaret wiped her eyes, took her hand.
“Lets go, poppet.”
At the park, Sophie laughed on the swings, chattering about a new cartoon. Margaret memorized every giggle, every word. Tomorrow, these would live only in memory.
“Granny, why are you crying?” Sophie asked, hopping off.
“Just the wind, love. Just the wind.”
At home, Emily packed suitcases. Sophie frowned.
“Mummy, where are we going?”
“To Grandma Roses. Itll be fun.”
“Is Daddy coming?”
“No. Hes staying here.”
“And Granny?”
Emily glanced at Margaretbriefly, Margaret thought she saw regret.
“Grannys staying too.”
“But I want Granny!” Sophie wailed. “She does the voices in stories!”
“Ill do them,” Emily soothed.
“Yours arent as good!”
Margaret knelt, hugging her.
“My sweet girl. Youll go with Mummy, and Ill love you every day from here.”
“Will we come back?”
“I dont know, darling. I dont know.”
Sophie cried harder, clinging to her. Margaret stroked her hair, feeling something inside her tear apart.
“Emily, must you do this? Look how she suffers.”
“Better she adjusts now than aches later,” Emily said, though her voice wavered.
That evening, with Sophie asleep, Margaret tried again.
“Emily, I see my mistakes. But give me a chance.”
“Its too late, Margaret. Far too late.”
“What if I talk to Henry? Make him return?”
Emily laughed bitterly.
“You couldnt. Hes too taken with his new life. And Ive no use for a man who must be forced to love his family.”
At dawn, Margaret saw them to the taxi. Sophie wept, clinging to her.
“Granny, come with us!”
“I cant, my love. I cant.”
Emily buckled Sophie in, then met Margarets eyes.
“Goodbye, Margaret.”
“Goodbye, Emily.”
The taxi vanished. Margaret stood frozen until a neighbor approached.
“Margaret, whats happened? Whereve they gone?”
“Gone,” she whispered. “For good.”
Inside, the empty house echoed. On the table lay Sophies forgotten toya stuffed rabbit.
Margaret clutched it to her chest and wept. She had taught her son to take love for granted. Now shed lost everything for it.
Some lessons come too late.
