“You’ll never see your granddaughter again,” declared my daughter-in-law before blocking my number.
“Margaret, may I wash the dishes? I need to keep my hands busy,” offered Emily, peeking into the kitchen where her mother-in-law sat reading the paper.
Margaret looked up from her newspaper, studying her daughter-in-law closely. Emily stood in the doorway in her usual dressing gown, her hair gathered in a messy bun, but her eyes were oddly brightalmost feverish.
“Oh, dont trouble yourself, dear. You were up late last night working on that presentation. Ill handle this,” Margaret replied, folding the paper.
“No, really, let me help. You do so much around the house, and I feel like Im just in the way,” Emily insisted, already moving toward the sink.
Margaret frowned. There was something off about Emily today. Normally, she was reserved, always slightly tense around her. Now she was bustling about like a schoolgirl before an exam.
“Wheres Sophie?” Margaret asked, referring to her four-year-old granddaughter.
“Still asleep. She stayed up late watching cartoons,” Emily answered, vigorously scrubbing a plate.
Margaret stepped closer, standing beside her at the sink. Emily smelled of the familiar perfume Andrew had gifted herbut there was something else beneath it, something uneasy.
“Emily, love, whats wrong? You seem on edge,” Margaret said gently.
Emily froze, the wet plate still in her hands. Her shoulders tensed, her fingers tightening around the china.
“Its nothing. Just tired, I suppose.”
“And wheres Andrew? He promised to take Sophie to the park today.”
“He wont be coming,” Emily said sharply, setting the plate down with a clatter.
“What do you mean? He said just yesterday”
“Margaret,” Emily turned slowly, her eyes rimmed red as if shed been crying. “We need to talk.”
Margarets heart pounded. She sank into a chair, her legs suddenly weak.
“Sit down, love. Tell me whats happened.”
Emily remained standing, drying her hands so thoroughly she mightve rubbed the skin raw.
“Andrew and I are divorcing.”
The words fell like stones into the quiet kitchen. Margaret felt something inside her snap, as though every string had been cut at once.
“What… what do you mean? Just yesterday, everything was fine. You had dinner together, Sophie recited her nursery rhymes…”
“Margaret, weve been living like strangers for six months. We only pretended for Sophies sake. But we cant anymore.”
Margaret tried to stand, but her legs wouldnt obey. She gripped the edge of the table instead.
“But why? What happened? Cant it be fixed? Should I speak to Andrew?”
Emily gave a bitter smile.
“Andrews already made his choice. Last night, he packed his things and left. For *her*.”
“Who?” Margaret whispered, though deep down, she already knew.
“His new fling. Jessica, from the office. The one he spent months telling me was so clever and *understanding*.”
Emily sat across from her, her trembling fingers resting on the table.
“Margaret, I know you love him. Hes your only son. But he betrayed our family.”
“Darling,” Margaret reached for Emilys hands, but she pulled away. “Men sometimes lose their heads. Hell come to his senses. He loves Sophie”
“Loves her?” Emily nodded. “So much that hell only see her on weekends. How convenient, isnt it? No responsibilityjust the fun parts.”
“And you? You loved him once…”
Emily closed her eyes, dragging a hand over her face.
“I did. For five years. I gave him a daughter, left a good job because he wanted me at home. Cooked, cleaned, played the perfect wife. And all while he flirted with secretaries.”
Margaret swallowed hard. Shed always suspected something was wronghis late nights, sudden business trips.
“Emily, perhaps its just a rough patch? Every marriage goes through”
“He told me outright hes in love with someone else. That he only stayed for Sophie. Romantic, isnt it?”
Tears spilled down Emilys cheeks, but her voice stayed steady.
“What happens now?” Margaret asked faintly.
“Im filing for divorce. Sophie stays with me. Were moving to my mothers in Birmingham.”
“Birmingham?” Margaret gasped. “Why so far?”
“Because everything here reminds me of him. And because Mums offered me work.”
Margaret stood, walking to the window. Outside, children playedamong them, Sophies little friend from next door. Her chest ached.
“But Sophieshe loves her nursery, her friends. She loves *me*…”
“Shell adjust. Children do.”
“Emily, I know youre angry with Andrew. Rightfully so. But why punish *me*? What have I done?”
Emily turned sharply.
“Nothing? Who spent years telling Andrew he was special, that rules didnt apply to him? Who excused every selfish act, starting from school?”
“I loved him”
“Loved him? Or spoiled him?” Emilys voice hardened. “Remember when he abandoned his first girlfriend after she got pregnant? You said, Good lad, dodged a bullet.”
Margaret flushed.
“That was years ago”
“And when he dodged child support? You said, She shouldve thought before having a baby. Now youre shocked hes left us too?”
“Emily, please”
“How *should* I say it?” Emily stepped closer. “You raised a selfish man, Margaret. And now Im supposed to stay silent?”
Sophie appeared in her princess pajamas, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“Mummy, why are you shouting?”
Emily softened instantly, crouching to her level.
“We werent shouting, sweetheart. Just talking. Go wash up, Ill make breakfast.”
“Wheres Daddy? He promised the park.”
Margaret and Emily exchanged glances. Sophies trusting eyes made Margarets heart splinter.
“Daddy… cant today,” Emily said quietly. “Hes busy.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I dont know, poppet. I dont know.”
Sophie frowned but skipped off. When the bathroom door closed, Emily turned back.
“Now I must explain why her father left her.”
“Emily,” Margaret took her hands. “I know youre furious. At Andrew, at me. But think of Sophie. She adores me. Why take that away?”
“Because youd teach her that men can do as they please. That women must endure. I wont let her repeat my mistakes.”
“Thats not true”
“It *is*.” Emilys voice was steel. “Remember when Andrew raised his voice after Sophie was born? I came to you in tears, and you said, Men get stressed with babies. Be wiser.”
Margaret paled. She rememberedand had thought it sound advice.
“But he never did it again”
“Because I warned him Id leave. Not because he changed.”
Sophies singing drifted from the bathrooma sweet, ordinary sound that now felt like goodbye.
“When do you leave?” Margaret whispered.
“Tomorrow. Tickets are booked.”
“*Tomorrow*? But thats so sooncant you wait until the weekend?”
“The longer we stay, the harder itll be for Sophie.”
“And for me?” Margarets voice broke. “What about *my* pain?”
Emily turned to the window.
“You shouldve thought of that sooner. When you were raising him.”
Sophie burst in, rosy-cheeked and grinning.
“Mummy, can we go to the park with Grandma? Theyve got new swings!”
Margaret looked at Emily pleadingly.
“Yes, darling,” Emily said after a pause. “Go with Grandma.”
Sophie clapped and dashed off. Margaret watched her go, then faced Emily.
“The last time?”
“Yes.”
“Emily, I beg youdont cut me from Sophies life. We could call, I could visit”
“No,” Emily said firmly. “Youll never see her again. Ill block your number, and well start fresh. Without any of you.”
Margarets world crumbled. She covered her face.
“You know Ill wither without her.”
“And I nearly died living with your son. Now its *my* turn to live.”
Sophie raced back, dressed and beaming.
“Grandma, come on! I want the slide!”
Margaret wiped her eyes, took her hand.
“Lets go, my love.”
At the park, Sophie laughed on the swings, chattering about cartoons. Margaret memorized every secondevery giggle, every word. Because tomorrow, it would only be memory.
“Grandma, why are you crying?” Sophie asked, hopping down.
“Just the wind, darling. Just the wind.”
At home, Emily was packing. Sophie frowned.
“Mummy, are we going somewhere?”
“Yes, sweetheart. To Grandma Lucys. Itll be fun.”
“Is Daddy coming?”
“No. Daddys staying here.”
“And Grandma Maggie?”
Emily glanced at Margaretjust for a second, something like regret flickered.
“Grandma Maggies staying too.”
“But I dont *want* to go without Grandma Maggie!” Sophie wailed. “She does the voices in stories!”
“Ill do the voices,” Emily said gently.
“Yours arent as good!”
Margaret knelt, hugging her tightly.
“My sweet girl. Youll be with Mummy, and Ill love you every day from here.”
“Will we come back?”
“I dont know, poppet. I dont know.”
Sophie cried harder, clinging to her. Margaret stroked her hair, feeling something inside her tear apart.
“Emily, please,” she whispered. “Look how shes hurting.”
“Better she adjusts now than suffers later,” Emily saidbut her voice wavered.
That evening, with Sophie asleep, Margaret tried once more.
“Emily, I know I failed. But give me a chance to make it right.”
“Too late, Margaret. Far too late.”
“What if I talk to Andrew? Make him come home?”
Emily gave a hollow laugh.
“You wont. Hes too busy with his new life. And I wont beg a man to love his family.”
The next morning, Margaret watched them climb into the taxi. Sophie sobbed, refusing to let go.
“Grandma, come *with* us!”
“I cant, my love. I cant.”
Emily buckled her in, then met Margarets gaze one last time.
“Goodbye, Margaret.”
“Goodbye, Emily.”
The taxi pulled away. Margaret stood frozen on the doorstep. A neighbor, Mrs. Wilkins, approached.
“Margaret, whats happened? Whereve Emily and Sophie gone?”
“Gone,” Margaret whispered. “For good.”
She returned to the empty house, sinking into her chair. On the table lay Sophies forgotten toya stuffed bunny.
Margaret clutched it to her chest and wept.
For the first time, she understood: some wounds never heal. And love, if misplaced, can destroy everything it touches.
