“Mum, Dad, get the spare room ready. Im coming home. With my son.”
Emily didnt askshe demanded. Her tone left no room for debate. Mum froze, staring at her phone, while Dad set his fork down, appetite gone.
Sophie, the elder sister, felt a familiar chill down her spine. She knew this wouldnt end wellEmily hadnt spoken to them in three years. But Sophie never imagined her sister would start with *this*.
“No,” Dad said sharply. “Theres no space here. You made your choices; deal with them yourself.”
“Oh, come off it! Theres *plenty* of room. Sophie can move outshes single, its easier for her. Or just stick her on the sofa in the kitchen. What, are you suddenly too stingy to help your own daughter?”
Sophies breath caught. She was used to Emilys selfishness, but it never hurt less.
Despite Dads refusal, Sophies mind already raced, searching for flats. It was always like thisEmily bulldozed through life, certain the world owed her, and somehow, she always got her way. Sophie? She stayed quiet, avoided conflict, swallowed her pride. Easier to give in.
Emily knew that. She used it.
“Emily, love we cant,” Mum said softly. “Were still paying off your uni loans. And Sophies helping us with billswere barely managing as it is. Taking you and a baby in? Its too much.”
“So you dont care what happens to your own daughter and grandson?!” Emily shrieked. “Are you even human?!”
“Enough. I wont be spoken to like that,” Dad snapped, ending the call.
Mum sighed but didnt argue. Dinner passed in heavy silence.
Sophie remembered how it started. In their family, it was always Emilys wayor a screaming tantrum until she got it.
Sophie was six years older. Their parents loved them both, but Emily was spoiled rotten. First, because Mum and Dad thought theyd perfected parenting by then. Second, money had been tight when Sophie was little. Shed learned frugality; Emily never had to.
The first meltdown came at ten. Emily wanted a puppynot just any mutt, but a full-blooded Labrador. A huge, high-maintenance breed. Mum and Dad knew *theyd* end up caring for it, and keeping a big dog in a tiny flat was madness. But Emily wouldnt listen.
“If you dont get me one, Ill *hurt* myself!” she threatened.
That terrified themespecially Mum. After weeks of fighting, they caved. Of course, the dog became Sophie and Mums responsibility. Emily was always “too busy.”
The same happened with the *Harry Potter* summer camp her friend Lily attended. Four days£600. A fortune.
“Lilys going, why cant I? If you dont send me, Ill run away!” Emily pouted, arms crossed.
“Go ahead. Theyll drag you back in shame,” Dad muttered.
They paid anyway. Peace was worth the costbut the easy path often leads nowhere good.
At sixteen, Emily declared shed study in London with Lily.
“Im not rotting in this backwater,” she sneered.
Sophie almost laughed. Emily was, charitably, an average student. No shot at scholarships, and private tuition fees were steep. The uni shed picked was elitecompetition fierce, her grades mediocre. Mission impossible.
But Sophies amusement faded fast.
“What, youll let your daughter stay uneducated?! Want me to end up on the streets?!” Emily ranted. “Thatll be *your* fault!”
They cracked. Tutors were hired, loans taken. Dad aged overnight; Mum lived on anxiety pills. Emily thrived.
She got in. Six months later, she bragged to Sophie:
“Guess what? Ive moved in with my boyfriend. His parents are loadedproperty developers. They pay for *everything*. We eat sushi every night!”
Sophie stayed quiet. Great, surebut theyd sent her to London to study, not mooch.
“Hows uni?”
“Ugh, *boring*. Im living like royalty, and youre nagging about lectures?” Emily huffed. “We might meet his parents soon!”
Months later, her tone soured.
“He flirts with *everyone*,” she whined. “Buys me things, but its like Im his pet. Fed, petted, ignored. He texts girls *right in front of me*!”
“Dump him,” Sophie said flatly.
“And lose a future like *this*? Please. He says Im the one. Hed never leave. And with his money, Ill *never* work. Im keeping him.”
Sophie knew it was toxic. Arguing was pointless.
“Then dont complain to me,” she finally said.
Emily hung up. She never called again.
By second year, she dropped the bombshell: she was pregnant.
“Sweetheart, what about your degree?” Mum gasped. Fresh loans weighed on them; this was a disaster.
“Who cares? Im not dragging a baby to lectures,” Emily said breezily.
Why would *she* worry? Others bore the costs. Even Sophie helped, though she resented it.
“Youre throwing your life away!” Dad roared. “We gave you *everything*!”
“And I *used* it. Just differently,” Emily shot back.
“He wont even *marry* you! What happens when he dumps you?”
“*My* life, *my* choices,” she hissed, then hung up.
Silence for three years. No calls, no texts. Like theyd ceased to exist.
Until she needed something.
In the end, Emily found another enablerGran Margaret, Dads mother. She took her in, siding with her against the family.
“Victor, how could you? Your own flesh and blood, with a *child*!” Gran scolded.
“I dont *know* that child. When I tried, she shut me out. Now she wants Sophie *homeless*? Sophie who *pays our bills*! Is that fair?”
“But *family* sticks together!”
“No, Mum. Family supports each othernot just takes,” Dad said firmly.
Within weeks, Grans complaints started. Emily ruled the house, moaned about her “heartless” parents, drained Grans patience.
Mum and Dad achedguilt, shame, Grans disapproval hurt. But for once, they didnt bend. And Sophie? She felt something new: pride.
For the first time, theyd stood firm. Emily hadnt won.
**Sometimes, love means saying no.**
