**A Sisters BetrayalAnd My Second Chance**
Growing up, I always knew my place. I was the sensible onethe daughter who followed the rules, earned top marks, and never caused a fuss. Meanwhile, my younger sister, Emily, was the darling of the family. Her laughter filled every room, her charm won everyone over, and her talent on the netball court had Mum and Dad beaming with pride.
ICharlottewas invisible. Straight As went unnoticed, while Emilys smallest victories were met with cheers. The only person who truly saw me was my grandmother. In her cosy cottage in the Cotswolds, I felt cherished. Baking scones, watching old films, and hearing her say, Youre extraordinary, Charlotte, even if they dont see itthose were my happiest memories.
When I left for university in Bristol, my parents barely flinched. Youll manage, they said. But Gran drove me there, helped carry my bags, and hugged me tightly. Make me proud, she whispered. And I did. Four years later, with a degree and a steady job, I finally felt worthy.
Then I met James. Handsome, attentive, he made me feel seen. Gran warned me, though. Theres something about him I dont trust, she said. But I ignored her. I wanted love.
One evening, over tea in her kitchen, Gran fixed me with a serious look. Are you still with James? she asked. I nodded. And his habits? she pressed. My chest tightened. Hes changed, I insisted.
Gran sighed. A friend saw him with Emily. At a pub. Laughing, touchingtoo familiar.
I stormed out, refusing to believe it. But that night, I heard themJames and Emilyupstairs in our bedroom.
The sight of them together shattered me. James fumbled for words, but Emily just smirked. Face it, Charlotte. Ive always been his favourite.
James coldly added, Youve let yourself go. Emily takes care of herself.
Tears burned my cheeks. Im carrying your child!
He scoffed. How do I even know its mine? I want a divorce. Pack your things tonight.
I left with nothing but my car and my dignity. Gran welcomed me with open arms. Youll survive this, she murmured.
The divorce was brutal. James took everythingthe flat, the furniture, even the wedding china. I didnt care. I was free.
Then Gran called me in, her face pale. The doctor says I havent much time, she whispered.
No, I begged. Please meet your great-grandchild.
She stroked my hair. I cant promise that, love. But Ill love him from wherever I am.
We spent her last weeks baking, watching films, and choosing paint for the nursery. She chose a soft blue. Peaceful, she said.
At her funeral, eight months pregnant, I felt my baby kicka reminder to keep going.
Then the solicitor read her will:
To Charlotte and her child, I leave everything. For always being there.
Mum protested. Emily seethed. Even James had the gall to complain. But it was final.
Weeks later, the doorbell rang. Emily stood there, dishevelled, her eyes hollow. James lost his job, she muttered. We lost the flat. Hes moved on. Ive nowhere to go. Please, Charlotte.
I folded my arms. After what you did?
Just until I get back on my feet, she pleaded.
I shook my head. No. My son comes first. Ill give you a solicitors number. You did me a favour, reallyshowing me who James truly was.
She glared. Youre heartless!
I met her gaze. Think about what you did. Then decide whos heartless.
She left in a huff. I closed the door, breathing deeply.
Now, as I rock my son in the nursery painted Grans blue, I feel her presence. The scent of her roses lingers in the garden; her old clock ticks softly in the hall.
I kiss my babys head and whisper, Thank you, Gran. Ill make you proud.
For the first time, I knowI am enough.
