This battle’s been dragging on for six years, ever since they got married. Olivia and James have a four-year-old son, Thomas, but even his own grandparents refuse to acknowledge him. They won’t hold him, won’t call to check in—it’s like he doesn’t exist. Olivia couldn’t wrap her head around why they’d treat her this way. She’d never given them reason to—never been rude, never argued, always tried to be polite. But the truth ran deeper. James had married *her*, not the girl his mum had dreamed of as a daughter-in-law.
That girl’s name was Eleanor. Margaret never missed a chance to remind everyone how brilliant, how beautiful, how *perfect* Eleanor was—daughter of a well-off family, of course. “Now *she* would’ve been the right wife for my son,” Margaret would say, right in front of Olivia. The rest of James’s family piled on too: “You don’t hold a candle to Eleanor, love.” Olivia, who’d grown up in a modest family in a small town near Liverpool, felt utterly humiliated. Her ordinary roots became endless ammunition for Margaret’s jabs.
James, though? He acted oblivious. “Just ignore them,” he’d say. “They’re only nitpicking.” To Olivia, that felt like betrayal. How could he not see how openly they insulted her? Lately, he’d been slipping off to his parents’ more often, coming home late. “Family business,” he’d mutter, avoiding her eyes. Olivia could feel the wall between them growing, her patience wearing thinner every day.
His family never once visited their home, even though Olivia invited them, trying to bridge the gap. They never wished her happy birthday—not a call, not even a text. For family gatherings, only James got the invite. “Not for outsiders,” they’d say. Olivia, still the outsider after all these years, felt like she didn’t belong. Her heart shattered when little Thomas asked, “Why doesn’t Grandma want to play with me?” She had no answer—just hugged him tight, blinking back tears.
It got unbearable. Olivia started thinking about divorce more and more. James never stood up for her, never put his parents in their place. He just followed his mum’s lead, like her word was law. Olivia felt alone in her own marriage, the ache eating at her. “If he won’t choose us, I can’t stay,” she’d think, watching Thomas sleep.
Christmas was the final straw. She told herself: if James left her and Thomas alone again, she’d pack up and go for good. “I won’t let them walk all over me anymore,” she vowed—but deep down, she still hoped he’d pick *them*.
The night before, James was evasive as usual. “Haven’t decided about tomorrow yet,” he mumbled, not meeting her gaze. Olivia stayed quiet, but her resolve hardened. She pictured packing their bags, leaving for her sister’s place in Manchester, where she was always welcome. No one there looked down on her.
That evening, Christmas Eve, James came home late. “Mum’s not feeling well, need to pop round tomorrow,” he said, still not looking at her. Olivia felt something inside her snap. “What about us?” she whispered. “Me and Thomas—do we not count?” James stayed silent, and that silence sealed it.
That night, while he slept, Olivia sat at the kitchen table, staring at the twinkling fairy lights outside. Her thoughts were a mess, but one thing was clear—she couldn’t live like this anymore. The next morning, as James got ready to leave, she quietly packed their things. “Where’re you going?” he asked, spotting the suitcase. “Leaving,” she said flatly, holding his gaze. “I’m done being the outsider. If you won’t protect us, I will.”
James froze, face pale. “Liv, wait—let’s talk,” he started, but she was already holding Thomas’s hand, heading for the door. “You made your choice,” she said. The door clicked shut behind her.
They moved in with her sister. At first, it was hard—the hurt from James’s betrayal and his family’s coldness didn’t fade overnight. But her sister’s warmth helped, and slowly, Olivia breathed easier. She found a new job, rented a flat, enrolled Thomas in nursery. Life inched forward.
Six months later, James showed up. “I was wrong,” he said, eyes down. “Mum pushed, and I didn’t stand up to her. I want us back.” Olivia studied him, but the love she’d once felt was gone. “You let us down,” she said softly. “I can’t trust you anymore.” James left, and as she hugged Thomas, she knew—she’d done the right thing. Her new life wasn’t easy, but it was hers. For the first time in years, she was free.
