A Blow to the Family: “He Brought Another Woman Instead”
Emily had gone to her parents’ cottage in the countryside for a couple of weeks—to rest, clear her head, and regain strength after sleepless nights with their baby. Her husband, Edward, was supposed to come for her on the weekend, as usual, and take her back to the city. Saturday morning, she packed potatoes, gathered their bags, dressed their son, and sat by the window waiting. When a car pulled into the yard, her heart leaped—but instead of Edward, his grandfather, James Wilson, stepped out.
“Where’s Edward? Couldn’t he make it?” Emily asked, stepping outside, confused.
James was solemn. He didn’t mince words.
“He’s fine. But there’s something you need to hear… and it’s better coming from me.”
Emily stiffened. A chill ran through her. She braced for the worst.
Edward’s life had never been easy. His father left when he was three, running off with another woman. His mother, working long shifts, couldn’t manage alone, so she handed him over to her parents. They’d just retired, still strong, and poured all their love into raising their grandson. They treated him like their own son, and even when he grew up, they still saw the little boy who once played in their garden.
Edward studied hard, earned his degree, and landed a job at a big firm. One day, he fell ill and went to the clinic—where he saw her. A young nurse, quiet and bright like a ray of sunshine. Her name was Emily. She was from a village, studying at college, sharing a flat with a friend. A romance blossomed. Edward didn’t introduce her to his parents—his relationship with his mother and stepfather was strained—but to his grandparents. They welcomed her warmly, and after the wedding, invited them to live in their home. The upstairs floor was empty.
Emily settled in quickly—gentle, hardworking, kind. Two years later, their child was born. Edward was happy—at first. But the baby was restless, crying through the nights, his sleep upside down. Edward moved to another room. Then he stayed late at work more often. Emily felt the distance, but she never complained—not to Edward, not to his grandparents.
One day, overwhelmed, she decided to visit her parents. She told Edward she’d stay a couple of weeks. To her surprise, he seemed relieved—too quickly, too eager. She tried to ignore the doubts gnawing at her. But in vain.
A week passed. Then Edward showed up at James and Margaret’s house—not alone, but with another woman.
“Meet Charlotte,” he announced, gesturing to a tall blonde with heavy lipstick.
“And who is this?” James frowned.
“My girlfriend. She’s moving in with me here.”
“Edward, have you lost your mind? What about Emily and your son?” Margaret cut in.
“We’re divorcing,” Edward said coldly.
Charlotte stepped forward.
“Are we just going to stand here? Let’s go, Edward. Clearly, we’re not welcome.”
“You’re right,” James replied sharply. “This isn’t your home.”
The next day, James drove to fetch Emily with their great-grandson in the back. When she saw him alone, her stomach twisted.
“Where’s Edward? Is he sick?”
“Just busy,” James brushed it off. But later, he told her everything.
Emily cried—silent tears, no hysterics. The kind that come when you already knew, deep down, and only needed the truth laid bare.
“You’re not a guest here. You’re the mother of our great-grandson,” James said. “We won’t let you go. There’s work here, a school nearby. Stay.”
Later, they learned Edward had rented a flat for himself and Charlotte, forgetting his son entirely. No financial help. Just indifference.
“I can’t live off you,” Emily said one day. “I need a job. But the baby’s still too young.”
“You’ll file for child support tomorrow,” James said firmly. “If he won’t do his duty willingly, the law will make him.”
Edward was furious. Charlotte sneered, “Maybe get a DNA test? What if the kid’s not even yours?”
Edward stayed silent. He knew the truth.
“Doesn’t matter,” she went on. “His grandparents won’t live forever. Once they’re gone, we’ll kick that little freeloader out.”
But James heard every word. He knew time wasn’t on his side. One day, he handed Emily the papers—the deed to the house, signed over to her.
“This… it doesn’t feel right,” she whispered. “He’s still your grandson.”
“And you’re our family,” James said. “He betrayed us. This is justice.”
That night, Emily cried for hours. But for the first time—from gratitude. Her heart was shattered, yet her soul knew: she wasn’t alone. Behind her stood those who truly loved her. And for them, she would endure.
