My younger sister, Emily, is absolutely furious with me—how dare I refuse to babysit her precious son after she refused to take my daughter on holiday? She’s wailing about “family loyalty,” conveniently forgetting how she turned her back on me when I needed her most. Her selfishness shattered my heart, and I’ve had enough of bending over backwards for someone who couldn’t care less. We live in a sleepy little town near Manchester, and honestly, this was the last straw.
A month ago, Emily burst into my face, beaming like she’d won the lottery. “We’re off to Cornwall! Me, James, little Oliver, and my mother-in-law—all booked and ready!” I was happy for her, truly. But then my stomach twisted for my Sophie. I’m a freelancer, and this year, much to my despair, a proper holiday was out of the question. Work was piling up, and every project kept the lights on—but it left hardly any time for my girl. Sophie’s my sunshine, and yet I couldn’t give her the magical summer she deserved. Thank goodness for Mum and my mates: Mum juggles her shifts to take Sophie to the park, and my friends whisk her off for ice cream. Without them, my little girl would be stuck indoors all day.
I’m a single mum. My ex, the absolute charmer, left us for his new “happy family,” complete with a shiny new son. He couldn’t spare a thought for Sophie—no calls, no help. So here I am, working myself to the bone to keep us afloat. When I heard about Emily’s seaside plans, a tiny hope flickered—maybe Sophie could tag along? Four of them going—Emily, James, Oliver, and her mother-in-law—surely they could manage one more? I even offered to cover all her expenses, just so Sophie could feel sand between her toes for once.
I swallowed my pride and asked. “Please, take Sophie,” I begged. “I’ll pay for everything; she won’t be any trouble.” But Emily shut me down instantly. “Two kids would ruin the trip. We don’t want the hassle of someone else’s child.” Someone else’s? Sophie’s her niece! I pleaded—Sophie’s quiet, well-behaved, I’d handle all the costs—but Emily just sniffed, “With your daughter there, we wouldn’t relax.” My heart cracked. Fine. No seaside for Sophie this year. But something hardened in me that day—no more bending over for my sister.
Emily’s used to me being her on-call babysitter. Since I work from home, she assumes I’ve got nothing better to do than mind little Oliver. I’ve put up with it—fetching him when she had a dentist appointment or a salon day, because “that’s what family does.” But after she refused Sophie, it hit me—my help wasn’t appreciated, it was expected. She didn’t value me or my daughter. Her mother-in-law lives miles away, so I’m her only option—but that doesn’t mean I’m obliged to be her unpaid nanny.
Back from her holiday, sunburned and smug, Emily came knocking again. They’d been invited for a weekend getaway—child-free, naturally. She didn’t even ask, just chirped, “You’ll watch Oliver, yeah?” I stared her down. “No. I’ve got work, and I want time with Sophie.” The shock on her face—priceless. “What? We’re family! He’s your nephew!” I reminded her how she’d called Sophie a burden. “You said my daughter wasn’t your problem. So why should you be mine?” Her jaw dropped.
Cue the theatrics—Emily screeching about how I’d ruined everything. “Mum’s working; we can’t go now!” Tough luck. My heart aches for Sophie, who missed out because of her selfishness. I won’t sacrifice my girl for someone who treats me like an afterthought. Emily took my help for granted, but love shouldn’t feel like a chore. Let her figure it out—I’m choosing Sophie.
This row left a bitter taste. I thought we were close, but her selfishness laid it bare—family only matters when it suits her. Sophie deserves better, and I’ll work twice as hard to give it to her. As for Emily? Maybe she’ll learn to appreciate people before it’s too late. If she couldn’t spare a single week for my daughter’s happiness, why should I rescue hers? It hurts—our bond’s in tatters—but I know I did right by Sophie. And that’s what matters.
