She Just Needs Time
“Right. Either you help me strip Vicky of her parental rights, or I walk away, and you deal with this mess yourselves.”
“Emily, for Gods sake! Shes your sister! My daughter!” Mum threw her hands up, then clutched her chest.
“And what am I? Not your daughter?” Emilys voice cracked with hurt. “Sometimes I think Im not even a person to you Cant you see whats happening? Ive grown to love little Jack, and you Either you help me, or I handle this alone. But I wont let it go.”
Mum looked away, torn between them. Dad just scowled, stirring his soup in silence. Emily understood. She stood and walked to her room.
It was clear. They hadnt chosen her. Not even Jack.
She packed her thingsfew as they were. Her heart ached, but she knew this had to be done.
But how could she stay strong when the little boy clung to her legs, sobbing?
“Mummy, dont go” Jack whispered, watching her stuff clothes into a bag.
*Mummy.* The word cut deep. Emily knelt, forcing a smile.
“Im not leaving *you*, Jack,” she murmured, pulling him close. “Im leaving so one day, things will be better. I *will* come back. For good.”
He wailed, confusedwhy was Aunt Emily, the woman he called Mummy, abandoning him? He gripped her sleeve so tightly she couldnt leave until hed cried himself to sleep. Only then did she slip out, quiet as a shadow.
In that moment, she hated Vicky. *She* had forced this nightmare on them.
…Vicky had started slipping at sixteen. Late nights became sleepovers at “friends” placesthough everyone knew what kind of friends. Shed stumble home smeared with makeup, reeking of booze. Sometimes in tears. And Mum and Dad would fuss over her like she was made of glasscoaxing, comforting, making excuses.
A pregnancy was inevitable. At seventeen, Vicky got knocked up. There was no kinder way to say itshe didnt even know the fathers last name. Just some “bloke from a party.”
Jack arrived. Quickly, Vicky realised motherhood wasnt for her. First, she left him overnight. Then she vanished completely.
“Im still young. I wont throw my life away,” shed told Emily over the phone.
So the burden fell to Emily. Granddad barely acknowledged Jackmaybe bought him a rattle once. Granny helped, but work kept her busy.
Emily was eighteen. She switched to part-time studies to care for a baby. She became his mother in everything but blood. She even stood as his godmother.
It was brutal. Night feeds, sleepless stretches, hauling a pram up flights of stairs, exams on two hours sleep. She studied after tucking him in, juggled houseworkher parents were always “too tired.”
By six months, shed adjusted. Then Vicky returnedweeping, begging forgiveness.
“I was such a fool Ill change,” she slurred.
They believed her. Even Emily. For a month, Vicky played mum, basking in praise. Thenvanished again. This time, stealing Mums jewellery.
“Shes struggling,” Mum insisted. “Shell come back. She just needs time.”
Emily stopped believing. Once was a mistake. Twice? A pattern. But what choice did she have? Her parents lived in a fantasy where Vicky deserved endless chances. But she couldnt just take Jack and disappear.
So Emily endured. Studies, raising Jack, nursery runs, doctor visits. She prayed Vicky wouldnt return.
No such luck. Four years later, Vicky reappeared.
“I thought he loved me,” she sniffed. “I was going to take Jack. But he used me. I was alone, jobless, in a strange city I barely scraped by.”
Emily scoffed. “Funny, you dont look starved.”
Mum shot her a glare. The spotlight swung back to poor, tragic Vicky.
The worst came when Emily brought Jack home from nursery. Granny nudged him toward Vicky. He burst into tears, hiding behind Emily.
“Dont be silly,” Granny crooned. “This is your mummy.”
“*Shes* Mummy!” Jack clung to Emily.
“Emilys just your aunt. Vickys your real mum,” Granny corrected.
Emilys heart shattered. For Jack. For the words. For knowing the cycle was repeating.
And repeat it did.
Vicky leeched off them for months, jobless.
“Whod hire me with Jack?” she sneered. “Im basically on maternity leave.”
Then she vanished again. No explanation. Just photos with a new “boyfriend”a man twenty years older.
*Another drunk,* Emily thought. Hope died. But what now?
She confided in her friend, Grace.
“Easy. Strip her of rights,” Grace shrugged. “Its not hard. Theyll check, see shes absent, and youll sort the rest.”
Emily hesitated.
“But I live with my parents. Theyll hate it. And what if they take Jack?”
“Or wait for Vicky to wreck his mindand yours. Shell still demand support when shes old. And between us” Grace lowered her voice. “Your sister, parents, Jack Wheres *your* life? Its time.”
“With Jack,” Emily said.
“So youll live through him? Hell leave someday. Then what?”
Emily *had* forgotten herself. Dates fled when they heard she had a “kid.” Only Liam, a classmate, stayed. But shed been too buried in drama to notice.
After talking to Grace, she gave him a chance.
With Liam, she felt weightless. He listened. Helped. When she delivered her ultimatum to her parents, she fled to him.
“Ive always saidlets move in,” he said calmly. “Maybe nows the time.”
“I cant abandon Jack.”
“So well be three.”
Emily gaped.
“Hes not your responsibility”
“Emily,” he cut in. “I knew what I signed up for. If hes family to you, hes family to me.”
Something melted inside her. Hope flickeredmaybe life wasnt just cleaning up Vickys messes.
The next six months were hell. Social workers, courses, paperwork. Worseshe couldnt take Jack immediately. He cried for her.
“You stole your
