“Mum, why didn’t you invite me to your birthday?” She gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. “You know why…” her mother sighed. “After you left the family… your father can’t forgive you. And Dave… well, he’s always sided with Lucy, who doesn’t think much of you either.”
Kate stood before the mirror, adjusting her eyeshadow. A rare evening without the kidsher friends had persuaded her to go out and unwind. The divorce wasn’t final yet, but she couldn’t bear living under the same roof as her husband any longer.
“You’re the one tearing this family apart,” her father had said.
“You always make things difficult,” her brother echoed.
Shed long since stopped explaining. What was the point? Male solidarity meant theyd never take her side.
But hearing it from her mother stungthat no one was perfect, that she was too idealistic. Nobody seemed to understand why she was unhappy. And if they didnt understand, then something must be wrong with *her*.
Her phone buzzed. It was Jenny, practically shouting through the receiver:
“Ready yet? The taxis outside!”
“Alright, coming.”
The kids were asleepher mother-in-law had agreed to babysit. Not her own mother, who was still punishing Kate for wanting the divorce, but her ex-husband’s mum, who seemed to be the only one in her life not judging her.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Kate asked on her way out. “Call me if anythingdont hesitate!”
“Go on, love!” The older woman waved her off. “Theyre not toddlers. You deserve a night off once in a while.”
Kate nodded, but something clenched inside her. *Once in a while.* It had been three years since shed been anywhere but school plays and parent-teacher meetings.
The club was loud, trendy. Kate even felt a twinge of nervousnessit had been so long since shed gone out, danced, felt like a woman instead of just a mother, a wife, or the failure whod walked away from a “perfect family.”
The music was deafening. The strobe lights, laughter, strangers brushing past, the mingled scents of beer and expensive perfume.
“Oh, finally!” Jenny grabbed her arm. “We started without you!”
Kate smiled and downed her first glass in one go. *God, its been ages.*
“Fancy a dance?”
“Maybe later, I just”
Then she saw them.
At the large table in the middle of the roomher brother Dave, his wife Lucy in a glittering dress, her father with a flute of champagne, Aunt Linda, Uncle Vic… her entire family.
“What” The words died in her throat.
Jenny followed her gaze. “Oh, look! Isnt that your lot? What a coincidence!”
*Coincidence?*
Then it clicked. Wednesday. Her mothers birthday.
*”Mum, your birthdays on Wednesday, right?”* shed asked last weekend. *”We always celebrated on Saturdays. Same this year?”*
Her mother had avoided her eyes. *”Oh, who cares about dates? This years different, love. Busy with things…”*
*Things.* Right. *Things* meant gathering everyoneexcept Kate. Celebrating without her. She was the outsider. The one who ruined everything.
“You alright?” Jenny frowned.
Kate stepped back. “II need to go home.”
“What?! You just got here!”
But Kate was already walking toward the exit, heart pounding, hot tears blurring her vision. None of her family even noticed her.
In the taxi, she pressed her forehead against the window and finally let herself cry. Silently. They didnt want her there. Maybe they never had.
The cab stopped outside her flat, but she couldnt bring herself to get out. Everything inside her burnedhumiliation, shame, that endless question: *Why? Whats wrong with me?*
Before she could slam the door, her phone buzzed. A message from Dave: *”Hey. Mums birthday today. Did you wish her?”*
She sat on the bench outside, typing back: *”I was there. You didnt see me.”* Then she closed her eyes, breathed, and deleted it.
Another buzz. Her mother.
“Hello?” Her voice trembled.
“You alright?” Her mother whispered, as if afraid of being overheard. “Dave said you werent answering…”
“I was at the club.”
A pause.
“Which club?”
“The same one youre all at.”
Silence. Then muffled noiseher mother covering the receiver.
“You… you saw us?”
“Yeah.”
Another pause. Longer this time.
“Mum… why?” Her grip on the phone turned her fingers white.
“You know why,” her mother sighed. “After you left… your father wont forgive you. And Davewell, hes always sided with Lucy, 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 askjust poured tea with honey.
“Drink. Youre shaking.”
Kate took the mug and suddenly sobbed, like a child. “Theythey were at the club. Threw a huge party. Without me. On purpose. They dont want me there.”
Her mother-in-law squeezed her hand. “Thats rough. Cry it out. Then ask yourselfdo *you* want to be around people like that? Are they worth your tears?”
“Hard to say. Feels like Ive been alone all along, just now its official,” Kate muttered. “Why *are* you on my side? Ive always wanted to ask.”
“I know my son, love. Saw right away you two were cut from different cloth. But you tried so hardthat deserves respect. And you gave me two wonderful grandkids.”
Kate smiled. She *had* triedfor yearsto be the perfect wife. Even though shed wanted out after just eighteen months of marriage.
Because she was exhaustedendless compromises, endless reshaping herself to fit. Her husband was militaryhome was just somewhere to rest.
And shed been twenty, wanting an easy life, not this endless performance of the happy homemaker, the content wife who had it all together.
But everyone told her: *Somethings wrong with* you *if youd walk away from a man like that.* Not him, not the marriage*her.* Shed believed it.
Swallowed it down, learned recipes from her mother-in-law, had two kids. But nothing helpedKate was miserable. She never got used to him.
Life was hard enough without bending herself into knots for a partner. He wasnt cruel.
He just never saw her, never understood her. After ten years, they had nothing left but the kids.
The morning after the party, a text from her father: *”You ruined it again. Your mothers upset.”*
Kate didnt reply. Instead, she opened her laptop, messaged Alice, and started searching for train tickets. She needed to leave. Even just 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 holiday!” Kate smiled for the first time in ages.
“Will we come back soon?”
“Dunno!”
The train carried them southtoward the sea, the warm breeze, the salt air that might wash it all away: the pain, the guilt, the lump in her throat that had been there for years.
The kids were confused at first, then glued to the windowthis was an adventure.
“Mum, will we really live by the sea?” Bens eyes sparkled.
“Really.”
Shed booked tickets to a little coastal town where shed spent summers before marriage. An old friend, Alice, had written when the divorce started: *”If you need to escapecome. Theres room.”*
Alice met them at the station, hugging her tightly without a word.
“Itll all work out,” was all she said.
And somehow, Kate believed her.
The first days were strange: waking to silence (no calls, no accusations), drinking coffee while staring at the sea. The kids ran on the beach, shrieking with joy.
Within two weeks, her first job offerAlices neighbors needed an English tutor. Kate was fluent.
A month later, her mother called.
“Have you forgotten us?” Her voice shook, but not with anger.
“No, Mum. I just needed to leave.”
A pause.
“We… we were wrong. Im sorry.”
Kate smiled. “Im not angry. But I need time.”
“And the kids?”
She looked out the window. Ben and Lily were building sandcastles.
“Theyre fine.”
She never went back.
Ten years on, Kate still lives in that seaside town, teaching Englishgroups and private lessons. Word of mouth keeps her booked solid.
Lily goes to art school, dreams of being a curatorher essay
