**Diary Entry**
*12th November*
“You wont see your granddaughter again,” my daughter-in-law said coldly before blocking my number.
“Margaret, would you mind if I washed the dishes? I need to keep my hands busy,” Emily offered, lingering in the kitchen doorway.
I looked up from my newspaper, studying her. She stood there in her usual dressing gown, hair piled haphazardly, but her eyesshiny, almost feverishunnerved me.
“Oh, love, dont trouble yourself. You worked late on that presentation yesterday. Ill manage,” I replied, folding the paper.
“No, really, let me help. You do so much around the house, and I just get in the way,” she insisted, already stepping toward the sink.
Something about her urgency unsettled me. Emily was normally reserved in my presence, almost tense. Now, she fidgeted like a schoolgirl before an exam.
“Wheres Sophie?” I asked, thinking of my four-year-old granddaughter.
“Still asleep. She stayed up late watching cartoons,” Emily answered, scrubbing a plate with too much force.
I moved closer, standing beside her at the sink. The familiar scent of her perfumethe one Andrew had given her for her birthdaymingled with something sharper, like anxiety.
“Emily, darling, whats wrong? You seem on edge today.”
She froze, the wet plate trembling in her hands. Her shoulders stiffened.
“Nothings wrong. Just tired, I suppose.”
“Wheres Andrew? He promised to take Sophie to the park today,” I pressed, the air thickening between us.
“Andrew wont be coming,” she snapped, slamming the plate onto the drying rack so hard I flinched.
“What do you mean? He said just yesterday”
“Margaret,” she turned slowly, her eyes red-rimmed. “We need to talk.”
My pulse quickened. I sank into a chair, legs suddenly weak.
“Sit down, love. Tell me whats happened.”
She remained standing, drying her hands so vigorously it seemed she meant to scrub the skin off.
“Andrew and I are divorcing.”
The words dropped like stones into silence. My chest tightened as if every string inside had been cut at once.
“Divorcing? But everything was fine yesterday. You had dinner together, Sophie recited her nursery rhymes”
“Margaret, weve been strangers for six months. We only pretended for Sophies sake. But I cant anymore.”
I tried to stand, but my legs refused. My fingers gripped the tables edge.
“Why? What happened? Cant it be fixed? Should I speak to Andrew?”
She gave a bitter laugh.
“Andrews already gone. He packed his things last night and left. For *her*.”
“Her?” I whispered, though I already knew.
“His little fling. Hannah, from the office. The one hes been gushing about for monthshow clever she is, how *understanding*.”
Emily sat across from me, hands trembling on the table.
“I know you love him, Margaret. Hes your only son. But he betrayed our family.”
“Emily, darling,” I reached for her hands, but she pulled away. “Men sometimes lose their heads. Hell come to his senses. He loves Sophie”
“Loves her?” Her voice cracked. “Thats why he decided weekends would do. So convenient, isnt it? No responsibility, just fun.”
“And you? You loved him once”
She shut her eyes, dragging a hand over her face.
“I did. For five years. Gave up my career when he asked, kept his home, raised his child. And all the while, he was making eyes at secretaries.”
A lump rose in my throat. Id suspected somethinghis late nights, sudden “business trips.”
“Perhaps theres been a misunderstanding? Every marriage has rough patches”
“He told me outright, Margaret. He loves someone else. Stayed with me *for Sophie*. How romantic, dont you think?”
Tears streaked her cheeks, but her voice stayed steady.
“What happens now?” I whispered.
“Im filing for divorce. Sophie stays with me. Were moving to my mums in Manchester.”
“Manchester?” My breath hitched. “Thats so far!”
“Because everything here reminds me of him. And because Mums offered me a job.”
I stood, staring out the window. Children played below, among them Sophies little friend. My heart ached.
“And Sophie? Her nursery, her friends *Me*.”
“Shell adjust. Children do.”
“Emily, I know youre angry with Andrew. Rightly so. But why punish *me*? What have I done?”
She whirled around.
“Done? Who spent years telling Andrew he was special, that rules didnt apply? Who excused every selfish act, starting with school?”
“I *loved* him”
“Loved him? Or spoiled him?” Her voice turned brittle. “Remember when he left his first girlfriend after she got pregnant? You said, *Good lad, dodged that one.*”
My face burned.
“That was years ago”
“Or when he skipped child support? *She shouldve thought before having a baby.* And now youre shocked hes left *us*?”
“Emily, please”
“How *should* I say it?” She stepped closer. “You raised a selfish man, Margaret. Now *I* pay the price.”
Sophie shuffled in, pyjama-clad and sleepy-eyed.
“Mummy, why are you shouting?”
Emilys face softened instantly. She knelt, smoothing Sophies hair.
“We werent shouting, sweetheart. Go wash up; Ill make breakfast.”
“Wheres Daddy? He promised the park.”
Emily and I exchanged glances. Sophies trusting eyes made my chest ache.
“Daddy cant today, love. Hes busy,” Emily murmured.
“Tomorrow?”
“I dont know, darling.”
Sophie frowned but padded off. When the bathroom door shut, Emily straightened.
“Now *I* must explain why her father left.”
“Emily,” I grasped her hands, “I know youre hurt. But think of Sophie. She loves me. Must you take me from her?”
“Because youd teach her to excuse mens cruelty. That women must endure. I wont let her live *my* life.”
“Im not like that”
“Arent you?” Her voice dropped. “When Andrew hit me after Sophie was born, you said, *Men get stressed with babies. Be wiser.*”
My stomach lurched. I *remembered* that. It had seemed sensible then.
“But he never did it again”
“Because I threatened to leave. Not because he changed.”
From the bathroom, Sophies off-key singing drifted in. The sound, once ordinary, now felt like goodbye.
“When do you leave?” My voice shook.
“Tomorrow. Tickets are bought.”
“*Tomorrow?* Cant you wait?”
“The longer we stay, the harder for Sophie.”
“And for *me*?” I barely whispered.
Emily turned to the window.
“You shouldve thought of that when raising your son.”
Sophie bounded in, grinning.
“Mummy, can we go to the park with Granny? Theyve got new swings!”
I looked at Emily pleadingly.
“Yes, darling,” she said after a pause. “Go with Granny.”
At the park, Sophie laughed on the swings, chattering about cartoons. I memorised every giggle, every wordknowing tomorrow, theyd exist only in memory.
“Granny, why are you crying?”
“Just the wind, sweetheart.”
At home, suitcases stood packed. Sophies face fell.
“Mummy, where are we going?”
“To Grandma Roses. Itll be fun.”
“What about Daddy?”
“No, love. Daddys staying.”
“And Granny Meg?”
Emilys gaze flickeredalmost regretful.
“Granny Megs staying too.”
“But I *want* Granny Meg!” Sophie wailed. “She does the voices in stories!”
I crouched, hugging her.
“Ill love you every day from here, darling.”
“Will we come back?”
“I dont know.”
As Sophie sobbed into my shoulder, something inside me shattered.
“Emily, *please*,” I begged. “Look at her.”
“Better she adjusts now than suffers later,” she said, though her voice wavered.
That night, I tried once more.
“Emily, Ive failed. But let me make it right.”
“Too late, Margaret.”
“Let me talk to Andrew”
She laughed humourlessly.
“You couldnt make him stay. And I wont beg a man to love his family.”
At dawn, I watched them load into a cab. Sophie clung to me, weeping.
“Granny, come *with* us!”
“I cant, my love.”
Emily buckled her in, then met my eyes.
“Goodbye, Margaret.”
“Goodbye, Emily.”
The cab pulled away. Neighbour Joan touched my arm.
“Margaret, whats happened?”
“Gone,” I whispered. “Theyre gone.”
Inside, the house echoed emptily. Sophies half-eaten toast sat abandoned beside her stuffed rabbit.
I clutched it to my chest and wept.
Life, as I knew it, was over.
