“You won’t see your granddaughter again,” declared my daughter-in-law before blocking my number.
“Margaret, may I wash the dishes? My hands itch for something to do,” offered Emily, peeking into the kitchen where her mother-in-law sat.
Margaret set down her newspaper and studied Emily with a measured gaze. There she stood, in her usual dressing gown, hair tied in a careless bunbut her eyes glittered strangely, fever-bright.
“Dont trouble yourself, dear. You worked late on that presentation last night. Ill manage,” Margaret replied, folding the paper neatly.
“No, really, let me. You do so much, and I just get in the way,” Emily insisted, already moving toward the sink.
Margaret frowned. Something wasnt right. Emily was usually reserved around her, tensenever this jittery, like a schoolgirl before an exam.
“Wheres little Sophie?” Margaret asked, referring to her four-year-old granddaughter.
“Still asleep. She stayed up late watching cartoons,” Emily answered, scrubbing a plate with unnatural vigor.
Margaret stepped closer, standing beside her at the sink. The scent of Emilys familiar perfumethe one Edward had gifted herhung in the air, but beneath it lurked something else, sharp and uneasy.
“Emily, love, whats the matter? You seem on edge today,” Margaret said softly.
Emily froze, the wet plate clutched in her hands. Her shoulders tensed, fingers tightening.
“Nothing, really. Just tired, I suppose.”
“Wheres Edward? He promised to take Sophie to the park today,” Margaret pressed, sensing the kitchen thicken with unspoken dread.
“Edward wont be coming,” Emily said sharply, clattering the plate onto the rack with a force that made Margaret flinch.
“What do you mean? He said just yesterday”
“Margaret,” Emily turned slowly, and her red-rimmed eyes betrayed recent tears. “We need to talk.”
Margarets heart quickened. She sank into a chair, legs suddenly weak.
“Sit, dear. Tell me whats happened.”
Emily remained standing, drying her hands as if she could scrub away the skin.
“Edward and I are divorcing.”
The words fell like stones into silent water. Margaret felt something inside her snap, as though all her strings had been cut at once.
“How… how can that be?” she barely whispered. “Just last night, everything seemed fine. You had dinner together, Sophie recited her nursery rhymes…”
“Weve been strangers for half a year, Margaret. We pretendedfor Sophies sake. But we cant anymore.”
Margaret tried to rise, but her legs wouldnt obey. She gripped the edge of the table instead.
“But why? What happened? Cant it be mended? Should I speak to Edward?”
Emily gave a bitter laugh.
“You cant speak sense into Edward anymore. Last night, he packed his things and left. For *her*.”
“Her?” Margaret whispered, though in her heart, she already knew.
“His new fling. Imogen, from the office. The one hes spent months raving abouthow clever she is, how *understanding*.”
Emily sat across from Margaret, her trembling hands flat on the table.
“I know you love him. Hes your only son. But hes betrayed our family.”
“Emily, darling,” Margaret reached for her hands, but Emily pulled away. “Men lose their heads sometimes. It will pass. Edward will come to his senses. He adores Sophie”
“Adores her,” Emily nodded. “So much that hell see her on weekends. How convenientno responsibility, only the fun bits.”
“And you? You loved him once…”
Emily shut her eyes, dragged a hand down her face.
“I did. Five years. Gave up my career at a good firm because he asked me to stay home. Cooked, cleaned, washed. While he flirted with secretaries.”
A lump rose in Margarets throat. Shed suspected somethinghis late nights, the sudden “business trips.”
“Perhaps its a misunderstanding? Every marriage has rough patches”
“He told me outright, Margaret. He loves someone else. Stayed with me *only* for Sophie. Romantic, isnt it?”
Tears streaked Emilys cheeks, but her voice stayed firm.
“What happens now?” Margaret asked faintly.
“Im filing for divorce. Sophie stays with me. Were moving to my mothers in Bristol.”
“Bristol?” Margaret gasped. “But thats so far!”
“Because here, everything reminds me of him. And because Mums offered me work at her firm.”
Margaret stood, drifted to the window. Children played outsideamong them, a little girl Sophies age. Her heart ached.
“And Sophie? Her nursery, her friends… *Me*.”
“Children adapt. Quickly.”
“Emily, I know youre angry with Edward. Rightly so. But why punish *me*? What have I done?”
Emily whirled around.
“Done? Who spent years telling Edward he was *special*, that rules didnt apply? Who excused every reckless choice, starting from school?”
“I loved him”
“Loved? Or spoiled?” Emilys voice turned cold. “Remember when he abandoned his first girlfriend after she got pregnant? You said, *Good lad, dodged that one.*”
Margarets face burned.
“That was years ago”
“And when he skipped child support? *Shouldve thought before keeping it.* Now youre shocked hes left us too?”
“Emily, please”
“How *should* I say it?” Emily stepped closer. “You raised a selfish man, Margaret. Now Im supposed to stay quiet and endure?”
Sophie appeared in the doorway, pyjama-clad and tousled.
“Mummy, why are you shouting?”
Emilys face softened instantly. She crouched to her daughter.
“We werent shouting, sweetheart. Just talking. Go wash upIll make breakfast.”
“Wheres Daddy? He promised the park.”
Margaret and Emily exchanged glances. Sophie watched them trustingly, and Margarets heart splintered.
“Daddy… cant today,” Emily said quietly. “Hes busy.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I dont know, Soph. I dont know.”
Sophie frowned but wandered off. When the bathroom door shut, Emily straightened.
“Now I must explain why Daddy left her.”
“Emily, love,” Margaret touched her arm. “Youre angryat Edward, at me. But think of Sophie. She loves me. Why take her away?”
“Because youll teach her to forgive men anything. That women should suffer in silence. I wont let her repeat my life.”
“Im not like that”
“You *are*,” Emily said. “Remember when Edward hit me after Sophie was born? I came to you crying. You said, *Men get nervous with newborns. Be wiser.*”
Margaret paled. She rememberedhad thought it sound advice.
“But he never did it again”
“Because I warned him Id leave. Not because *he* changed.”
From the bathroom, Sophies singing floatedcheerful, ordinary. To Margaret, it sounded like goodbye.
“When do you leave?” she asked, voice shaking.
“Tomorrow. Tickets are bought.”
“So soon? Wait till the weekend”
“The longer we stay, the harder for Sophie.”
“And for me?” Margaret whispered. “Or do I not matter?”
Emily turned to the window.
“You shouldve thought of that when raising your son.”
Sophie burst in, rosy-cheeked.
“Mummy, can Nana take me to the park? Theyve new swings!”
Margaret looked at Emily pleadingly.
“Go with Nana, love,” Emily said after a pause.
Sophie cheered and dashed off. Margaret watched her go, then faced Emily.
“Is this the last time?”
“Yes.”
“Emily, Im begging youdont cut me from Sophies life. Calls, visits”
“No,” Emily said firmly. “You wont see her again. Ill block your number. Were starting freshwithout you.”
Margarets world crumbled. She covered her face.
“You know Ill wither without her.”
“And I nearly died with your son. Now its *my* turn to live.”
Sophie bounded back, dressed.
“Nana, lets go! I want the big slide!”
Margaret wiped her eyes, took her hand.
“Come then, poppet.”
At the park, Sophie laughed on the swings, chattered about a new cartoon. Margaret memorized every secondevery giggle, every word. Tomorrow, only memories would remain.
“Nana, why are you crying?” Sophie asked, hopping down.
“Just the wind, darling. Just the wind.”
At home, Emily packed suitcases. Sophie frowned.
“Mummy, are we going somewhere?”
“Yes, love. To Grandma Helens. Itll be fun.”
“Is Daddy coming?”
“No. Daddys staying.”
“And Nana?”
Emily glanced at Margaretsomething like regret flickered, then vanished.
“Nanas staying too.”
“But I dont want to go without Nana!” Sophie wailed. “She does the voices in stories!”
“Ill do voices,” Emily said gently.
“Not like Nana!”
Margaret knelt, hugged her.
“My sweet girl. Youll go 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 she grieves.”
“Better she adjusts now than suffers later,” Emily saidbut her voice wavered.
That night, as Sophie slept, Margaret tried again.
“Emily, I know I failed. But give me a chance.”
“Too late, Margaret. Far too late.”
“What if I talk to Edward? Make him return?”
Emily laughed bitterly.
“You cant *make* him. Hes besotted with his new life. And I wont beg a man to love his family.”
At dawn, Margaret watched them load into a taxi. Sophie sobbed, refusing to let go.
“Nana, come with us!”
“I cant, my love. I cant.”
Emily buckled her in, then met Margarets eyes one last time.
“Goodbye, Margaret.”
“Goodbye, Emily.”
The taxi vanished. Margaret stood frozen on the step. A neighbor, Mrs. Wilkins, approached.
“Margaret, whats happened? Whereve they gone?”
“Away,” Margaret said dully. “Gone for good.”
Inside, the flat echoed with emptiness. On the table lay Sophies forgotten toya stuffed rabbit.
Margaret clutched it to her chest and knew her life was over.
