“Mum, why didnt you invite me to your birthday?” She gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. “You already know why” Her mother sighed. “Since you left the family your dad cant forgive you. And Jamie well, hes always sided with Charlotte, who doesnt think much of you either.”
Katie stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her eyeshadow. A rare evening without the kidsher friends had convinced her to go out, to take her mind off things. The divorce wasnt final yet, but living under the same roof as her husband had become unbearable.
“Youre the one tearing this family apart,” her father had said.
“You always make everything so difficult,” her brother echoed.
Shed stopped explaining long ago. What was the point? Male solidarity meant theyd never take her side anyway.
But hearing it from her mum stung the mostthat no ones perfect, that shes too idealistic. No one seemed to understand why she was unhappy. So clearly, the problem must be *her*.
Her phone buzzed. It was Lizzie, practically shouting with excitement:
“You ready? The taxis outside!”
“Yeah, on my way.”
The kids were already asleepher mother-in-law had agreed to stay with them. Not her own mum, thoughshed made a point of punishing Katie for wanting a divorce. It was her mother-in-law, the only one in her life who didnt seem to resent her.
“Are you sure youll be okay?” Katie asked at the door. “Call me if anything comes up, alright? Dont hesitate!”
“Go on, love,” the older woman waved her off. “Theyre not babies. You deserve a night out once in a while.”
Katie nodded, but something inside her twisted. *Once in a while*. She hadnt been anywhere in three years except school runs and parent-teacher meetings.
The club was loud, trendy. She even felt a little nervousit had been so long since shed danced, since shed just been *herself*, not a mum, not a wife, not the failure whod walked away from a “perfect family.”
The music thumped, lights flashed, laughter and chatter filled the air, mingling with the smell of beer and expensive perfume.
“Oh, finally!” Lizzie grabbed her arm. “We started without you!”
Katie smiled and downed her first drink in one go. *God, its been ages*.
“Dancing?”
“Maybe later, I just”
Then she saw them.
At the big table in the middle of the roomher brother Jamie, his wife Charlotte in a sparkling dress, her dad with a glass of champagne, Aunt Lucy, Uncle Vic her whole family.
“What” Her voice vanished.
Lizzie followed her gaze. “Oh wow, is that them? What a coincidence!”
*Coincidence?*
Then it hit her. Wednesday. Her mums birthday.
“Mum, your birthdays on Wednesday, right?” shed asked over the weekend. “We always celebrated on Saturdays. Same this year?”
Her mum had avoided her eyes. “Oh, who cares about dates? This years different, love, things came up”
*Things?* Right. *Things* meant gathering everyoneexcept her. Celebrating without her. She was the problem. The one who ruined everything.
“You okay?” Lizzie frowned.
Katie stepped back. “I I need to go home.”
“What?! You just got here!”
But Katie was already walking away, heart pounding, hot tears in her eyes. Not one of them had noticed her.
In the taxi, she pressed her forehead against the window and finally let herself cry. Silent, aching sobs. They didnt want her there. Maybe they never had.
The cab stopped outside her house, but she couldnt bring herself to get out. Everything inside her burnedwith hurt, with shame, with that endless question: *Whats wrong with me?*
Before she could slam the car door, her phone buzzed. A message from Jamie: *Hey. Mums birthday today. Did you say happy birthday?*
She sat on the bench outside, fingers shaking as she typed: *I was there. You didnt see me.* Then she deleted it.
Another buzz. Mum.
“Hello?” Her voice wavered.
“Are you alright?” Her mum whispered, as if afraid of being overheard. “Jamie said you werent replying”
“I was at the club.”
A pause.
“What club?”
“The same one youre all in right now.”
Silence. Then muffled noise, like her mum had covered the receiver.
“You you saw us?”
“Yeah.”
Another pause. Longer this time.
“Mum why?” Her grip on the phone turned her fingers white again.
“You know why” Her mum sighed. “You left the family your dad cant forgive you. And Jamie well, hes always sided with Charlotte, who doesnt think much of you.”
“And you?”
Silence.
The answer was clear enough.
Inside, the kids were asleep. Her mother-in-law took one look at her face and didnt ask questionsjust poured her a cup of tea with honey.
“Drink. Youre shaking.”
Katie took the mug, then suddenly burst into tears. “They they were all there. Threw a huge party. Without me. On purpose. They dont want me.”
Her mother-in-law squeezed her hand. “Thats rough. Cry it out, love. Then ask yourselfdo *you* want people like that in your life? Are they worth your tears?”
“Hard to say. Feels like Ive been alone for ages, only now its official,” Katie replied. “Why *are* you on my side? Ive always wanted to ask.”
“I know my son, dear. And I always knew you two were cut from different cloth. But you tried so hardthats worth respecting. Plus, you gave me two beautiful grandchildren.”
Katie smiled. She *had* tried. Tried to be the perfect wife, even though shed wanted to leave after just a year and a half.
Because she was tired. Tired of bending, of compromising, of pretending. Her husband was in the militaryhome was just a place to rest.
At twenty, shed wanted an easy, personal lifenot this endless performance of being the happy little homemaker, the wife who had it all together.
But everyone told her: *Theres something wrong with you if youd walk away from a man like that.* Not him, not the marriage*her*. Katie was the problem. Shed believed it.
So she swallowed her words, learned her mother-in-laws recipes, had two kids. But nothing helpedshe was miserable. She couldnt force herself to love him.
Life was hard enough without forcing yourself to fit into someone elses mold. Her husband wasnt cruel. He just never saw her, never understood her. After ten years, the only thing left between them was the kids.
The next morning, a text from her dad: *You ruined everything again. Mums upset.*
Katie didnt reply. Instead, she opened her laptop, messaged Alice, and started looking for train tickets. She needed to leave. At least for a while.
Two weeks later, she stood at the station with three suitcases and two kids.
“Mum, where are we going?” her eldest asked.
“On an adventure!” For the first time in years, Katie smiled.
“Are we coming back soon?”
“I dont know!”
The train carried them southto the sea, to warm winds, to the smell of salt air that might wash away the pain, the guilt, the lump in her throat that had been there for years.
The kids were confused at first, but now they pressed against the windowthis *was* an adventure.
“Mum, are we really staying by the sea?” Her sons eyes sparkled.
“Really.”
Shed booked tickets to a little coastal town where shed spent summers before marriage. Alice, an old friend, had messaged her early in the divorce: *If you need to escape, come. Theres always room.*
Alice met them at the station, pulling her into a tight hug.
“Itll all work out,” was all she said.
And for some reason, Katie believed her.
The first few days were strangewaking up to silence (no calls, no accusations), brewing coffee while staring at the sea. The kids ran on the beach, shrieking with joy.
Within two weeks, her first job offer came. Alices neighbours needed an English tutor for their son. Katie was fluent.
A month later, her mum called.
“Have you forgotten about us?” Her voice tremblednot with anger, but something else.
“No, Mum. I just needed to leave.”
A pause.
“We we were wrong. Im sorry.”
Katie smiled. “Im not angry. But I need time.”
“And the kids?”
She looked out the window. Her son and daughter were
