Left with Nothing
“How can you say such things? Hes a living personyour husbands own brother!”
“And Ill say it againId sooner burn that money than give it to him! At least that way, itd do some good! If he cant be bothered to look after his own health, why should I?” The younger daughter-in-law pouted, arms crossed.
Margaret could barely contain her outrage. Andrew, her youngest son, rubbed his temples and sighed heavily. He seemed just as shocked, though he kept his composure. That was Andrewalways level-headed, never one to panic, preferring logic over emotion.
“Emma, you cant be serious! Lifes longtoday, you help him; tomorrow, he might help you.” Margaret had run out of ways to explain something so simple to a woman who ought to know better.
“Oh, spare me! Who, him? That glutton? Hes drowning in debt!”
“Not everything comes down to money, love,” Margaret sighed. “If you care for Andrew at all, at least show his brother some respect. Im not asking you to sit by his hospital bed.”
“Margaret, with all due respect, weve got our own plans,” Emma replied coldly. “Were saving for our daughters future. Unlike Steven, shes got a real chance at being something.”
Margarets cheeks burned with anger. The way Emma spoke of her eldest son, as if he were dirt under her nailsit wasnt right.
Steven wasnt perfect, but he was a good family man. He worked hard, loved his wife and son, never strayed. Just an ordinary bloke, like thousands of others.
Andrew, on the other hand, had always been driven. From childhood, hed dreamed of breaking free from the ordinary, carving out his own comfortable life. Hed chosen dentistry not out of passion but for the money. And for a while, hed made a fortune, working tirelessly, dealing with difficult clients, living well.
Steven wasnt poor either, though he scraped by. He had a carmortgaged, of courseand a flat left to him by his grandmother.
But he had one vicefood. Steven adored sweets, bread, and mayonnaise. He skipped breakfast only to gorge himself at dinner, spending weekends glued to the sofa.
His weight wasnt critical, but it wasnt healthy.
“Steven, you ought to eat more salads. Proper onesnot the kind loaded with eggs and nuts,” Margaret chided.
Still, she hadnt worrieduntil he landed in hospital with heart trouble. The doctor gave him a dire warning:
“A strict diet. Possibly for life.”
Steven ignored it. At first, he managed, then gave up entirely. He skipped follow-ups, abandoned treatment after the first round. If he felt ill, he soldiered on.
“Claire, youve got to drag him back to the doctor. Hell be the death of himself,” Margaret pleaded with her elder daughter-in-law.
“Ive tried! But you know how stubborn he is. Ive nagged him about that diet till Im blue in the face. And what? I throw out the mayo, he buys more. Says hell stop eating at home if I keep force-feeding him rabbit food.”
It was clearuntil Steven took charge himself, nothing would change. But he wouldnt. Plenty of people were like that, pushing things till it was too late.
But Emma, the younger daughter-in-lawshe didnt just judge Steven. She despised him.
“Dont see why you bother with him. Let him dig his own grave,” she scoffed once, overhearing Margaret and Andrew discussing him.
Margaret tried to convince herself that Emma was just strong-willed, that harsh truths might work. But deep down, she knewEmma was just cruel.
It showed in everything. Emma never shared, never helped. If Margaret asked for a favour, Emma always had an excusetoo busy, promised her mother, not feeling well. Shed never lifted a finger at Margarets cottage but never missed a barbecue. When they needed someone to watch their daughter, Emma called Margaret first, not her own mother.
Margaret had bitten her tongue for yearsnot her place to interfere. But now she worried for Andrew, too.
A few days ago, Steven had another attack. He needed surgery, a long recovery. For the first time, he seemed scaredsubdued, barely eating, brushing off questions.
Margaret rang Claire.
“How are you coping? Steven wont tell me anything.”
“Oh, Margaret Im terrified,” Claire admitted. “Were barely managing as it is, and now with tests, medication, surgery You know how the NHS is.”
“Dont fret, love. Well sort the money. Hes familywell all chip in.”
“If you can help, Ill be forever grateful.”
Margaret felt a weight lift. Money wasnt the issue. Shed assumed Andrew and Emma would helpshed raised her sons to stand by each other.
What she hadnt expected was Emmas refusal. Especially since Emma lived off Andrews earnings, calling herself a homemaker while indulging in gym memberships, lunches with friends, new outfits every week.
“Your daughters future” Margaret echoed thoughtfully. “Do you realise Steven might not have a future at all if we turn away now?”
Emmas lips thinned.
“He stuffed his face for years, and now I should pay for it? Not a chance! Hes a grown manlet him sort himself out!”
With that, she stormed out.
“Andrew, Im waiting in the car,” she tossed over her shoulder.
Andrew didnt follow. He stared at the table, fists clenched. Margaret looked away.
The silence was thick, heavy. Something inside both of them fractured. After five minutes, Andrew picked up his phone.
“Andrew I never interfere, but Today she refused to help your brotherwith your money. What if its you next?” Margaret asked softly.
“I know, Mum. Dont worryIll help Steven. But Emma Im not sure I want to stay married to someone like that.”
That day, Andrew sent Emma awaynot home, but to her parents. She screamed, called him a mummys boy, threatened divorce. He didnt budge.
He filed first. Emma waited for him to crawl backhe never did. Then she threatened to take their daughter.
“Ill take her, and youll never see her again!”
“Dont be daft,” Andrew snorted. “You havent asked about her once since we split.”
Still, they negotiated. Emma demanded half of everythingthough shed contributed nothing. In the end, she settled for his car, just to be rid of her.
Margaret never saw Emma again. From social media, shed turned bitter, railing against men. No more fancy restaurantsnow it was just cheap takeaways. No more eyelash extensions or weekly blowouts.
Greedy, and left with nothing.
“Any regrets about the divorce?” Margaret asked Andrew once, feeling partly responsible.
“None. If helping my brother was a crime to her, we were never right for each other.”
He didnt seem to dwell on it. He had work, his daughter to raisethough thankfully, Lily was old enough to manage.
As for Stevenhis surgery went well. He took his second chance seriously, sticking to his diet, even walking with Claire. Their family was smaller now, but stronger for it.
