Faith paced around her small flat in Manchester, clutching her phone as another overdue payment notification lit up the screen. Her chest tightened with worry—how was she supposed to feed her family when her daughter and son-in-law had become such a burden? It all began when her eldest, 19-year-old Emily, announced she was expecting a baby and planning to marry.
Faith had always confided in her colleague, Margaret, a wise and compassionate woman. Margaret had raised two daughters alone: Emily, now 19, and 10-year-old Sophie. Until recently, Margaret had no complaints. Emily studied diligently at university, Sophie excelled in school, and both were well-behaved. Despite the struggles of single parenthood, Margaret took pride in them.
But in her second year, Emily met her first love—Anthony. He was from out of town, but after meeting him, Margaret approved. He seemed kind, genuine, nothing like a freeloader. Soon, the couple decided to move in together. To save on rent, they squeezed into Margaret’s cramped three-bedroom flat. She objected—Emily was too young, barely started life—but there was no reasoning with them.
Then came the real blow: Emily confessed she was pregnant, and they wanted a lavish wedding. Margaret felt the ground slip from under her. Her daughter, barely an adult, was already becoming a mother.
Anthony didn’t work. Like Emily, he was a full-time student with no plans to switch to part-time studies. Yet they insisted on a wedding fit for a rom-com—one of Manchester’s priciest venues, a designer dress, and a guest list longer than Margaret’s patience. She protested, saying she couldn’t afford it, but Emily clutched her stomach in tears:
*”Mum, are you really being stingy with your own grandchild?”*
Gritting her teeth, Margaret paid for it all. She drained her emergency savings and even took out a loan, hoping the newlyweds would wise up afterward. But her hopes crumbled. Emily and Anthony stayed put, refusing to find even part-time work.
Anthony’s parents gifted them a used car, so the couple gallivanted around town like tourists, with the grooms’ folks covering petrol. But groceries, bills, and baby expenses? All on Margaret. They didn’t even know the price of a loaf of bread. When she tried discussing finances, Emily rolled her eyes.
*”Mum, we’re *students*—where are we supposed to get money?”*
Emily splurged without hesitation, flipping through catalogues for top-tier prams and cots while Margaret gasped at the prices.
*”Emily, I can’t afford this! My loan for your tuition is due, and I’ve got Sophie to care for!”*
*”Seriously?”* Emily snapped. *”You’re going to be a grandma, and you’re penny-pinching?”*
Margaret’s blood boiled. They chose to have a baby—why was *she* footing the bill? She worked herself to exhaustion, barely scraping by, while they lived in a fantasy.
One evening, she snapped. She returned from work—late again, after stopping for groceries—to find Emily and Anthony laughing over a designer baby magazine, Sophie quiet in the corner, and a mountain of unwashed dishes in the sink.
*”Am I supposed to be your maid, too?”* Margaret barked, slamming the bags down.
*”Mum, relax!”* Emily huffed. *”We’re busy—we’re having a baby!”*
*”You’re having a baby, but *I’m* paying for it?”* Margaret’s hands shook with rage. *”Enough. Get jobs, or get out.”*
Emily burst into tears, Anthony paled, but Margaret stood firm. She gave them a month to find work—any work.
*”Fail, and you move in with Anthony’s parents. Let *them* support you.”*
They pleaded, but Margaret was done with tears. She loved Emily, but unless she set boundaries, they’d drown her. One night, Sophie hugged her tight and whispered,
*”Mum, I’d never do this to you.”*
Margaret smiled through her tears. For Sophie, she’d keep fighting. As for Emily and Anthony? Reality was coming—and Margaret refused to be their lifeline anymore.
