“Mum, why didnt 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 cant forgive you. And Jamie well, hes always sided with Charlotte, and shes never liked you.”
Emily stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her eyeshadow. A rare night outher friends had convinced her to go, to take her mind off things. The divorce wasnt final yet, but she couldnt stand living under the same roof as her husband anymore.
“Youre the one tearing this family apart,” her dad had said.
“You always make things so complicated,” her brother had chimed in.
Shed stopped explaining ages ago. What was the point? Theyd never take her sidemen always stuck together.
But hearing it from her mum stung. “Nobodys perfect, love. Youve got your head in the clouds.” No one seemed to understand why she was unhappy. Which meant, apparently, the problem was her.
Her phone buzzed. It was Lucy, shouting excitedly through the speaker.
“Ready? The taxis outside!”
“Yeah, coming.”
The kids were already asleepGran had agreed to stay with them. Not her own mum, of course. Mum was still punishing her for wanting the divorce. But her mother-in-law, who somehowagainst all oddsdidnt seem to hate her.
“Are you sure youll be alright?” Emily asked, hovering by the door. “Call me if anything comes up, promise?”
“Go on, love!” The older woman waved her off. “Theyre not babies. You deserve a night out for once.”
Emily nodded, but something twisted inside her. *For once*. It had been three years since shed done anything that wasnt school runs or PTA meetings.
The club was loud, flashy. She felt a flicker of nervesit had been so long since shed danced, since shed just been *herself*, not “Mum” or “the wife who ruined everything.”
The music thumped. Strobe lights flashed. Laughter, strangers brushing past, the smell of beer and expensive perfume.
“There you are!” Lucy grabbed her hand. “Weve already started without you!”
Emily smiled and downed her first drink in one go. *God, its been ages.*
“Dancing?”
“Maybe later, I just”
And then she saw them.
At the big table in the middle of the roomher brother Jamie, his wife Charlotte in a glittering dress, Dad with a flute of champagne, Auntie Margaret, Uncle Geoff her *entire* family.
“What?” Her voice vanished.
Lucy followed her gaze. “Oh, look! Isnt that your lot? What a coincidence!”
Coincidence?
Then it clicked. *Wednesday. Mums birthday.*
“Mum, your birthdays Wednesday, yeah?” shed asked over the weekend. “We always celebrated on Saturdays. Same this year?”
Her mum had avoided her eyes. “Oh, who cares about dates? Were skipping it this year, love. Too much going on.”
*Too much going on.* Right. Too muchlike planning an entire party without her.
“You okay?” Lucys smile faded.
Emily stepped back. “I I need to go home.”
“What? You just got here!”
But she was already walking away, heart pounding, hot tears blurring her vision. None of them had even noticed her.
In the taxi, she pressed her forehead against the window and finally let herself cry. Silent. Ragged. They didnt want her there. Maybe they never had.
The cab stopped outside her flat, but she couldnt bring herself to go in. Everything burnedthe hurt, the shame, the old, gnawing question: *Whats wrong with me?*
Her phone buzzed. A message from Jamie: *Hey. Mums birthday today. Did you call her?*
She sat on the bench outside, typed back: *I was there. You didnt see me.* Then she deleted it.
Another buzz. Mum.
“Hello?” Her voice shook.
“Are you alright?” Her mum whispered, as if afraid of being overheard. “Jamie said you werent replying”
“I was at the club.”
A pause.
“Which club?”
“The same one youre all at right now.”
Silence. Then muffled chatterlike her mum had covered the receiver.
“You you saw us?”
“Yeah.”
Another pause. Longer.
“Mum why?” Her grip on the phone turned her fingers white.
“You know why,” her mother sighed. “After you left your father cant forgive you. And Jamiewell, hes always sided with Charlotte, and shes never liked 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 shivering.”
Emily took the mug and broke down like a child. “They they were all there. Threw a big party. Without me. On purpose.”
Her mother-in-law squeezed her hand. “Thats rotten. Cry it out. 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 agesjust now its official,” Emily said. “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 hardthats worth respecting. And you gave me these grandkids.”
Emily smiled. She *had* tried. For years. Shed almost left after eighteen months of marriage.
Because she was tired. Tired of bending, compromising, playing the happy little wife. Her husband was a soldierhome was just somewhere to rest.
Shed been twenty. Shed wanted *life*not this endless performance.
But everyone acted like *she* was the problem. “Somethings wrong with you,” theyd said. Not him. Not the marriage. *Her.*
So shed swallowed it. Learned her mother-in-laws recipes. Had two kids. But nothing helpedshe never fit with him.
Life was hard enough without forcing yourself into someone elses mold. He wasnt cruel. Just oblivious. After ten years, they had nothing left but the kids.
The morning after the party, a text from Dad:
*You ruined it again. Mums upset.*
Emily didnt reply. Instead, she opened her laptop, messaged Alice, and started looking 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 daughter asked.
“On holiday!” Emily grinnedthe first real smile in ages.
“Are we coming back soon?”
“Dont know!”
The train carried them southto the sea, to salt air that might wash away the guilt, the hurt, the lump in her throat that never quite left.
The kids were confused at first, then glued to the window. For them, it was an adventure.
“Mum, do we really get to live by the sea?” Her sons eyes shone.
“Really.”
Shed booked tickets to a little coastal town where shed spent summers before marriage. Alicean old friendhad messaged when the divorce started: *If you need to get away, come. Theres room.*
Alice met them at the station, hugged her tight, and said only: “Itll be alright.”
Somehow, Emily 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.
Two weeks in, her first job offer. Alices neighbours needed an English tutor for their son.
A month later, her mum called.
“Have you forgotten us?” Her voice tremblednot with anger, something else.
“No, Mum. I just needed to leave.”
A pause.
“We we were wrong. Im sorry.”
Emily smiled. “Im not angry. But I need time.”
“And the kids?”
She looked out the window. Her son and daughter were building a sandcastle.
“Theyre happy.”
She never went back.
Ten years on, she still lives in that seaside town, teaching English. Word of mouth keeps her busy.
Her daughter goes to art school, dreams of being a curatorher essay on local painters even made the paper.
Her son? Fifteen now, fails maths but wins swimming competitions.
Theyre not perfect. But theyre happy. No one tells them theyre “not right.”
Her mother-in-law visits every summer. Never mentions the new daughter-in-law.
Her mums been twice. Last time, sipping pomegranate
