“Come home right now!” Michael’s voice crackled through the phone, sharp with accusation. “Do you even care about your own daughter? I’m at my wits’ end with her!”
Elena raised her champagne flute, smiling at Olivia. The café buzzed with laughter and musicfriends celebrating, the air thick with joy. For the first time in months, she didnt feel like just a mother to little Lily. She felt like a woman again.
“To your happiness,” she managed before her phone screeched, cutting through the chatter.
“Elena, where the hell are you?” Michaels voice was a growl. “Shes been screaming for an hour and a half!”
“I told you Id be late. Its Olivias birthdaywe agreed”
“Its been *three* hours, not two!”
She excused herself from the table, not wanting to sour the mood.
“Give her some water. Maybe shes thirsty.”
“I *tried*! Shes illshe needs *you*!”
“Michael, calm down. Check her nappy. If its chafing, shell cry. Ill be home soon.”
“No! Leave *now*!” His voice climbed. “Do you even care about your own child?”
“Fine. Ill set off early.”
The line went dead.
When she returned, Olivia frowned. “Trouble?”
“Lilys crying. Michaels panicking.”
“Thats normal!” Tanya waved a hand. “My Harry was terrified to hold Sophie at first.”
“Mine still calls me at every whimper,” joked Marina.
“Maybe I should go,” Elena murmured.
“No,” Olivia said firmly. “You havent left the house in three months. Let him *learn*.”
Elena tried to rejoin the conversationuntil the café door burst open. Michael stormed in, Lily wailing in his arms.
“There you are!” he bellowed. “*Mother of the Year*! Your childs dying, and youre out getting pissed!”
Silence swallowed the room. Elena flushed under the stares.
“Why would you do this?” she hissed.
“What I *shouldve done* ages ago!” He jostled Lily dramatically. “Bringing your *dying child* to her *party girl* mother!”
“Thats *enough*,” Olivia snapped.
“Stay out of it!” Michael snarled. “This is *your* fault!”
“Sir, calm down,” an older patron interjected.
“Mind your own business!” Michael turned back to Elena. “Shes *sick*and you abandoned her!”
Elena took Lily. The moment the girl was in her arms, she quieted.
“Liv, Im sorryI have to go.”
“*Finally*,” Michael sneered. “Decided to be a mother?”
“Dont apologise,” Olivia said. “Youve done nothing wrong.”
“What a *man* you are,” Tanya spat. “Real men dont act like this!”
Before Michael could retort, the manager stepped in. “Im sorry, sir. Youll have to leave.”
***
At home, Elena peeled off Lilys onesieand froze. A red welt from the tag streaked her neck.
“*This* was the problem. It was rubbing her.”
“How was I supposed to know?” Michael flopped onto the sofa.
“By *undressing her*!”
“Im not built for nappy duty. Thats *your* job.”
Elena whirled. “*What* did you just say?”
“What needed saying.” His voice was ice. “I earn the money. The kids are *your* problem.”
“You humiliated me in publicover a *tag*!”
“Now youll remember: a mothers place is at homenot gallivanting with mates.”
“Youre serious?” She stared. “I work remotely, juggle three clients, raise Lily, cook, cleanwhen do *I* get a life?”
“*This* is life?” He scoffed. “Sitting home with a babys a *holiday*. Try a ten-hour shift*then* youll know work.”
“Try *sleepless nights* when she wont stop screaming!”
“Feed her, change herhow hard is it?”
“Hard enough you couldnt spot a *tag*?”
He slammed his keys on the table. “Enough! Im going to Simons. At least *he* doesnt nag.”
“Run, then.” Her smile was bitter. “You always do.”
***
The door clicked shut. Lily dozed in her arms. In thirty minutes, shed packed essentialsnappies, the pram, a blanketand stood at her mother-in-laws doorstep.
“Elena?” Margarets brows rose. “Whats happened?”
“Im leaving Michael. Can we stay a few days?”
“Come in. Tell me what that fools done now.”
Elena sank onto the sofa, rocking Lily. “He screamed at me in the cafésaid Id abandoned her, that she was *dying*over a *tag*.”
“Disgraceful,” Margaret muttered. “And then?”
“Then he said children are *womens work*.”
“I see.” Her voice frosted. “So Lilys *not* his daughter?”
“Thats the worst part!” Elena burst out. “He thinks raising her is a *break*!”
“Stupid boy,” Margaret sighed. “Id hoped hed grow up. Instead, hes worse.”
***
The next morning, Michael arrived, face twisted.
“Mum, where is she? She needs to come home!”
“Shes not running away,” Margaret said calmly. “Explain that café stunt.”
“What stunt? I was protecting my daughter!”
“From a *tag*?” Margarets tone was withering. “Elena told me everything.”
“Shes exaggerating!” He paced. “Make her leave!”
“Sit.” Her voice was steel. “Were talking.”
“About *what*? A wifes place is”
“Listen well: Elena stays in *that* flatbecause shes Lilys mother. *You* disappoint me.”
“Mum, I *provide*!”
“And she workswith a baby in her arms. Who cooks? Cleans? What do *you* do?”
“I *bring in money*!”
“So did Iafter your father died. Worked *and* raised you. You wont even check on your child at night.”
“Why should I? Shes got milk.”
“And playing with her? Bathing hernot your job either?”
Michael hesitated, then muttered, “Works stressful. Im tired.”
“*Shes* exhausted too. But unlike you, she doesnt scream at strangers.”
His jaw clenched. “Fine! Ill find a *proper* wife! She can raise the kid alone!”
“Try.” Margaret didnt raise her voice. “But rememberyoull pay child support. Ill *ensure* it.”
“Whose side are you *on*?”
“The side of decency. Youre acting like a spoiled boynot a father.”
***
A month later, the divorce was final. Michael swaggered, triumphant*free* at last. He even brought home a new woman: blonde Rebecca from the office.
“Wow, this flats *amazing*!” she gushed.
“Just waitnew furniture, a reno” He smirked. “Now Im rid of the dead weight, I can live for *me*.”
“What about your ex?” Rebecca asked carefully.
“Living with Mum. *Her* problem now.”
“You pay child support?”
He waved a hand. “Mums loaded. Theyll manage.”
They were mid-coffee when the door opened. Margaret stood thereElena and Lily behind her.
“Mum, whys *she* here?” Michael spluttered.
“Returning the rightful owner,” Margaret said coldly. “This flats been in Lilys name for months. Rebeccayoure free to go.”
“What the hell?” he roared.
“What I *shouldve done* sooner. Pack your things. Youre living with me.”
“Mike, whats going on?” Rebecca paled.
“Nothing,” Margaret said. “He just *forgot* the flat belongs to his daughter. I expected this.”
“You *cant*!”
“I can. Elenasettle in.”
Rebecca grabbed her purse and fled.
“Bec, *wait*!” Michael chased hertoo late.
***
Two years passed. Michael was near alone. Friends tired of his whining. Margaret spoke to him in frosty tones and banned his new girlfriend from her home.
He dialled Elena.
“Lena maybe we could talk? Try again?”
“Michael, theres nothing *to* try. Im home.”
