Betrayal and Reckoning: A Family Shattered
“There’s no point arguing now. We must decide what to do. We’ll have to pay for Lisa’s tuition, at least for the first year. She’s bright—she’ll catch up and transfer to a funded place,” said Helen wearily, glancing at her husband.
Andrew shrugged, as if the conversation had nothing to do with him.
“Andy, are you even listening?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, eyes fixed on his phone.
“Then we’ll have to sell the motorbike. A colleague at work was interested. We’ll use the money for Lisa’s tuition.”
“No, Helen. The bike stays,” Andrew cut in, leaving her frozen in surprise.
“And why’s that?”
His answer hit like a punch to the gut.
Helen had always believed family was a fortress built on trust and compromise. She and Andrew had shared twenty-three years, weathered hardships, built a home in the outskirts of York, and raised their daughter. But lately, everything had changed. Andrew had grown irritable, distant. She assumed it was grief after the death of his brother Anthony, who had been his closest confidant.
Anthony had left behind a wife, Julia, and a son, Nathan. Helen and Andrew had supported them, often at their own expense. But this was the final straw.
“I promised the bike to Nathan,” Andrew said flatly.
“Wait… How could you? We agreed to sell it for Lisa!” Helen felt her face flush with anger.
“I never agreed to anything,” he dismissed.
“We discussed this as a family when Lisa finished school! She chose a competitive course with high entry requirements!”
“Back then, I didn’t know Anthony would die and Nathan would be left without a father. He needs support.”
“And your own daughter doesn’t?!” Helen tried reaching him, but he just stared at the floor.
Assuming he’d relented, she threw herself into preparations—arranging Lisa’s tuition, making calls. The days blurred into busyness.
One evening, setting the table, Helen’s phone rang. Julia’s name flashed on the screen.
“Helen, thank you so much for the gift!” The widow’s voice brimmed with delight.
“What gift?” Helen was lost.
“The motorbike! Andy gave it to Nathan. You should see how happy he is! He’s dreamed of a bike since he was a boy—Anthony promised him one for his eighteenth. But after he died… where would we get the money? And Andy made his dream come true! Thank you both!”
Helen’s heart clenched.
“You’re saying our motorbike is with you?”
“Yes, Helen. Andy gave it to Nathan. You didn’t know?”
Helen couldn’t speak. That bike had been bought three years ago with their joint savings. She’d agreed on one condition—if money was ever tight for Lisa, it would be sold.
A recent conversation with Lisa replayed in her mind:
“Mum, I’ve sorted it—we need to pay the deposit.”
“Of course, love. Dad and I have it settled. A buyer’s coming to see the bike tomorrow…”
Now those words felt like a cruel joke.
“Alright, I’ll let you go,” Julia said, hanging up.
When Andrew walked in, Helen sat clutching her phone.
“Andy, Julia just called. Is it true? You gave away the bike?”
He hesitated, then nodded.
“Yeah. So?”
“So? You gave away our bike without asking me? Behind my back?!”
“Helen, enough. It’s my bike.”
“Ours, Andrew! We bought it together, with the understanding it’d be sold for Lisa!”
“For God’s sake, stop going on about university!” he snapped. “Don’t you get it? I have no son. You only gave me a daughter. Nathan’s the closest thing I’ve got. I swore to Anthony I’d look after him.”
“Seriously?!” Helen’s voice trembled. “Lisa isn’t your heir? Not your blood?”
Footsteps sounded in the hall. Lisa stood in the doorway, pale, eyes brimming.
“You could’ve helped me, but you chose him?” Her voice shook.
“University isn’t everything,” Andrew muttered. “You’ll get a funded place, study something else. What’s the difference? Nathan wouldn’t get a bike for free.”
“I mean nothing to you,” Lisa whispered, turning and slamming her bedroom door.
“Look what you’ve done!” Helen barely contained her rage.
“Helen, I’m tired. You’re never happy. I lost my brother. Nathan lost his father. Can’t you understand that?”
“And you, it seems, have lost your daughter,” she said coldly.
Lately, Andrew had grown distant—late nights, evasiveness, frequent visits to Julia’s.
“Just supporting her, she’s alone,” he’d say. “Nathan asked for help with the bike—he’s training as a mechanic, loves engines.”
Helen had helped Julia too—navigating paperwork after Anthony’s death, arranging the funeral. She’d thought Andrew appreciated it, but more often, he accused her of coldness when she questioned his focus on Nathan.
Julia, though, always welcomed him—home-cooked meals, shared memories of Anthony. In her house, Andrew felt needed. In his own, he faced only complaints.
“You know I’ve always been closer to you than Helen,” Julia had once said, holding his gaze.
Andrew had stayed silent, but the words lingered.
“She’s never satisfied, Andy. I understand you. We both lost Anthony—to her, it’s nothing.”
After months of hesitation, he’d stayed the night, lying to Helen about a burst pipe.
The truth surfaced by chance. Helen saw texts on his phone—words no relatives should exchange. Julia had become more than family. His odd behaviour, the distance, the lies—it wasn’t duty to his brother. It was betrayal.
“Get out, Andy. I won’t accept this. Or forgive it,” Helen said, packing his things without meeting his eyes.
He left. They spared Lisa the full truth, though she was grown. Helen hoped the affair would fizzle out, that their daughter might one day forgive him.
Julia’s illusions crumbled fast. At first, it seemed perfect—Andrew there for dinners, plans made, his family ignored. Julia pretended he could replace Anthony. Their resemblance helped—sometimes she even called him by his brother’s name.
But reality was cruel.
“You don’t even hold a fork like Anthony,” Julia remarked one evening as Andrew fumbled with his food.
He said nothing.
“Anthony never left things lying around.”
“Anthony fixed everything himself—you just call a handyman.”
“Anthony knew my favourite flowers…”
Each comparison cut deeper.
Nathan rejected him too. Learning Andrew had moved in, he left. Two families were crumbling like sandcastles.
“They’ll come around,” Julia insisted. “It takes time.”
“Will they?” Andrew realized—to her, he was just Anthony’s shadow.
She knew it too but wouldn’t admit it.
“We made a mistake,” he began.
Julia sighed, staring at the table.
“I thought I could… We were both wrong.”
Andrew nodded, grabbed his coat, and left. Now, he belonged nowhere.
A week later, he returned to Helen.
“Helen, forgive me. Take me back?”
She shook her head, not looking at him.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he frowned.
“Yes. Do you? When you went to your brother’s wife?”
He stayed silent.
“You betrayed me, Lisa, and Anthony’s memory. You’re weak, Andy.”
“You’re not blameless,” he muttered.
Helen gave a bitter laugh.
“No. I just excused you for too long.”
She walked away, closing the door behind her. A strange lightness filled her. Her love for him had faded—all that remained was pity for a man without backbone. But that was no longer her burden. Let him find his own way.
