Family First: My Sister Comes Before You, Said the Husband as He Chose Who to Stay With

**Diary Entry 12th October**

“Emily, for Gods sake, stop standing there like a statue! Help me with the groceries!” Sophie shouted from the hall, shaking off her rain-soaked coat. Reluctantly, I tore myself away from the football match on the telly and trudged over. The rain hammered against the windows, and the flat felt damp and chilly.

“Back from the market again? Its bloody expensive there,” I grumbled, peering into the bulging bags.

“Where else am I supposed to get decent tomatoes? The supermarkets full of rubbish. Charlottes bringing the kids tomorrow, and I want to make her favourite soup.”

Sophie bustled about the kitchen, unpacking while I watched in silence. She always went all out when my younger sister visitedlike it was some grand occasion. The best ingredients, spotless house, the good china.

“I dont see the point in splashing out like this,” I muttered. “Charlottes not fussy.”

“Fussy or not, guests deserve proper hospitality. Especially family,” Sophie shot back.

She knew I didnt approve, but she carried on out of stubbornness. Charlottealways “Charlotte Elizabeth” in Sophies mind, never just “Charlotte”wasnt just my sister. To Sophie, she was some unattainable ideal. Beautiful, successful, two well-behaved kids, a husband with a good job. Lived in Manchester, worked in finance, dressed impeccably. Next to her, Sophie always felt like a frumpy shadow.

The doorbell cut through her thoughts.

“Thats early,” I said, checking my watch. “They said after lunch.”

But it wasnt Charlotte. It was Mrs. Wilkins from next door, eyes red from crying.

“Sophie, love, help memy Olivers gone missing! Three days now, nowhere to be seen. Have you spotted him?”

Sophie ushered her in and put the kettle on. Mrs. Wilkins was a widowthat cat was all she had.

“Havent seen him, Mrs. Wilkins. Maybe hes locked in somewhere? Checked the cellar?”

“Everywhere! Even asked the caretaker. Oh, whatll I do without my Oliver?”

I rolled my eyes and went back to the telly. Couldnt stand the neighbours dramatics or her endless snivelling. Sophie poured tea and sat with her, patiently listening, offering comfort while I glared at the clock.

When Mrs. Wilkins finally left, I snapped.

“Weve got guests tonight, and youre wasting time on some daft old woman and her cat!”

“James, shes distraught! If Oliver were mine, Id be beside myself.”

“A bloody cat! Meanwhile, Charlottes coming, and youre not even ready!”

Sophie clenched her jaw. There it was againCharlotte. Like life didnt matter unless she was in it.

The evening was strained. Charlotte arrived looking flawlesstailored suit, sleek hair, expensive heels. The kids, William and Lily, immediately latched onto me.

“Uncle James! You promised to show us that new game!” Lily babbled.

“I will, just get settled first.”

With Charlotte, I was a different manlaughing, attentive, warm. Sophie watched, baffled. Why couldnt I be like that with her?

Dinner was awkward. The kids chattered about school, Charlotte talked work, and I hung on her every word. Sophie just refilled drinks and passed plates.

“Sophie, youre quiet,” Charlotte remarked.

“Just tired.”

“Shes always tired,” I cut in. “Comes home from work in a mood.”

Sophie flinched. Was that how I spoke about her in front of others? Even family?

Later, while clearing up, Charlotte cornered her.

“James mentioned you want children.”

Sophie froze. So Id discussed our private life with her?

“Weve been married seven years,” she said carefully.

“Listen, as his sister, I worry. Kids are a huge responsibility. And expensive.”

“Well manage.”

“Will you?” Charlotte smirked. “Be honest, James doesnt earn much, neither do you. Rented flat, no car. School fees, uniforms, university”

“And this is your business because?”

“Because if things go south, *Ill* be the one bailing him out. Hes my brother.”

Sophies blood boiled. So Id not only confided in Charlotte but painted her as a burden?

The next morning, Lily piped up at breakfast:

“Aunt Sophie, why dont you have kids?”

Silence. I choked on my tea.

“Lily!” Charlotte hissed.

“But Mummy said Aunt Sophie wants a baby, and Uncle James is scared you cant afford it!”

Sophie went pale. So Charlotte had been gossiping to her children too?

After they left, Sophie packed a bag.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“To my mums.”

“Over a stupid row?”

“No. Over the truth. Seven years, and you still see me as an outsider.”

I tried backtracking, but she was done. A week later, I turned up at her mums, pleading.

“Charlottes gone. She wont interfere again.”

“You still dont get it,” Sophie said. “This was never just about Charlotte. You *chose* her over me. You said it yourselfshes family. Im just… someone you married.”

I had no answer.

Six months later, the divorce was final. No fights, just relief.

Ran into Mrs. Wilkins years later. “Shame about James,” she said. “Always did dote on that sister of his.”

Sophie smiled. Even the neighbours had noticed.

Sometimes, its better to be alone than to be a stranger in your own home.

**Lesson learned:** Love shouldnt be a competition. If youre not first in someones heart, youre already last.

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Family First: My Sister Comes Before You, Said the Husband as He Chose Who to Stay With
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