The Long-Awaited Granddaughter Natalie Michaels couldn’t stop ringing her son, who was off at sea again. Still, there was no signal. “Oh, what a mess you’ve made, son!” she sighed anxiously, dialing his number once more. It was all in vain—no signal until he reached the next port, and that might not be soon. And now, of all times… Natalie Michaels hadn’t slept for two nights—this was what her son had done! * * * This story really began years before, back when Michael hadn’t even considered working long voyages. He was a grown man, but love just didn’t work out—nothing ever seemed right with the women he met! Natalie watched with an aching heart as her son’s relationships, with perfectly lovely and respectable girls (in her opinion), fell apart one after another. “You’re impossible!” she’d tell him, exasperated. “Nothing is ever good enough! What woman’s ever going to be able to meet all your standards?” “I don’t get your complaints, Mum. You’re just desperate for a daughter-in-law, and you don’t even care what kind of person she might be!” “That’s not true!” Natalie insisted. “I care very much that she loves you—and that she’s decent!” Her son’s meaningful silences only frustrated her more. How did the baby boy she’d raised, the one who once cried on her knees, suddenly seem to know so much more about life than she did? Who was the real grown-up here? “What was wrong with Natalie, then?” Natalie would demand, switching to another girlfriend’s name if her son stonewalled her. And so it went with Katya, Jenny, and Darina—each new girl, each new disappointment. “You’re impossible to please! You’re always chasing after someone new! Why can’t you just settle down, start a family—give me grandchildren, already?” Eventually, Michael changed professions entirely, joining a friend’s ship crew. Natalie tried in vain to talk him out of it. “Why, Mum? It’s a great opportunity! Do you know how much lads make at sea? I’ll look after us both.” “What good is the money if you’re never around and I don’t see you? I’d rather have a family than your paycheques!” “Families need providing for, too! Once I have kids, I won’t go out to sea anymore—I’ll have to raise them. So now’s the right time to work hard while I can. Everything else will follow!” Michael truly did earn a lot. After the first trip, he renovated the flat. After the second, he opened a savings account in her name. “This is so you never want for anything, Mum.” “I live just fine already! What I don’t have, are grandkids—and time’s passing by. I’m not getting younger, you know!” “Oh, stop it! You’re years off retirement! Don’t be daft!” her son teased. Natalie rarely touched his money, relying on her own modest pharmacy salary for her simple expenses. “Let it pile up on the card. When Michael finally looks, he’ll see how thrifty his mother is!” she thought. They lived this way for years. Back home between voyages, Michael met up with his mates, stayed out late, spent time with women he stopped introducing to his mother. When Natalie complained, he rebuffed her: “It’s so you won’t guilt me later about not marrying them. I just don’t plan on marrying girls like that, Mum!” That stung. Especially when he called her naïve. “You always think too well of people, Mum. You never really got to know any of those so-called fiancées. They always tried to impress you, but they weren’t as they seemed.” His words gnawed at Natalie, making her feel foolish for trusting strangers. But then, one night, she caught sight of him with a new girl and was filled yet again with the fierce urge to see her son settled. She brazenly approached them—Michael, a grown man, blushed scarlet. But a mother is a mother—he had to introduce them. Natalie took to Milly at once. Tall, slim, curly-haired, with an intelligent face and good manners. “Maybe he just needed time,” Natalie thought, elated. “Maybe there was a reason he never settled before. If he hadn’t waited, he wouldn’t have met such a lovely girl!” Michael and Milly saw each other all holiday long, and Natalie hosted the girl several times. She found her bright, lively, and delightful. But as Michael prepared for yet another voyage, Milly disappeared. “We’re not seeing each other anymore, Mum. Please, just leave it alone,” her son said. He left. Natalie fretted, but there was no one to ask about what might have happened. * * * A year went by. Michael was home several times, but always short when asked about Milly. “Good grief, what was wrong with her, then? What could possibly have gone wrong?” Natalie finally burst. “Mum, that’s between me and her. If I broke things off, I had my reasons. Stop prying into my life!” She nearly cried. “But I worry about you, Michael!” “Don’t!” he barked. “And don’t contact Milly, either. And stop nagging me!” Off he sailed again, leaving Natalie to her empty routine. Then, during a shift at the pharmacy, Milly walked in—shopping for baby formula, with a little girl in a buggy. “Oh, Milly, I’m thrilled to see you! Michael told me nothing, just upped and left for sea, and swore me off finding out about you!” Milly looked sad. “Let’s leave it at that, then.” Natalie’s heart raced. “Tell me, dear, did something happen between you? I know Michael—he can be difficult sometimes. Did he hurt you?” “It doesn’t matter,” Milly replied. “I’m not angry at him. We should be going, though—still need groceries.” “When you can, pop in—see me at work! I’m on different shifts.” Milly did come by, and bit by bit, Natalie drew out the story. Milly was pregnant by Michael, but he’d said a child didn’t fit into his life at sea and he wasn’t up for anything long-term. Then he vanished. “Off to sea again, I suppose,” Milly shrugged. “We’ll manage on our own.” Natalie practically dropped to her knees, gazing at the little girl. “So—this is my granddaughter?” “It would seem so,” Milly replied softly. “Her name’s Annie.” “Annie…” * Natalie was beside herself. She coaxed out of Milly that she was struggling—renting alone with a baby and no steady income, thinking of moving back to her own parents out of town. The thought of Annie leaving—her only granddaughter!—nearly broke Natalie’s heart. “You and Annie should come stay with me! I’ll help with everything, you’ll get a regular job, we have more than enough! Michael sends so much money, I can’t spend it all anyway. Annie deserves the best!” “What would Michael say?” “Who cares? If he can walk away from his own child and say nothing, it falls to me to put things right! When he comes home, he’s getting a piece of my mind, I can promise you!” So they moved in together. Natalie doted on Annie, rearranged shifts to spend more time with her. Milly found a job, working late, grateful to leave Annie in safe hands. At home, Natalie looked after her as if she were her own. Michael’s leave approached. Natalie imagined greeting him—grandchild in arms—demanding apologies to Milly. Milly grew nervous, dreading being thrown out once Michael returned. “He’ll never let us stay, I knew I shouldn’t have moved in!” Milly fretted. “He’ll say it’s all about the money. I’d rather go home to my parents than impose on your kindness.” “Nonsense! I own this flat—I decide who lives here! Let him try stopping me!” Milly protested, but Natalie insisted: “This is what I’m thinking—we should immediately transfer this flat to Annie. That way there’ll be no questions in future; it’ll be hers, even if Michael never marries. Especially since he’s not even listed on Annie’s birth certificate,” Natalie said gently, and Milly nodded, embarrassed. They went to the solicitor to arrange this, but were told Michael had to remove his name from the ownership first. Natalie was annoyed, but with Michael due back in days, she tried to be patient. Milly grew increasingly absent, working late, gathering her things into a hidden suitcase. Natalie confronted her. “You’re not moving out, are you?” “I’m sorry, Natalie—I have to go! Once Michael’s back, it’s better if we’re not in the way…” “You’re not going anywhere, not with my granddaughter!” Natalie replied firmly. “If you need anything, you’ve got the card, and the pin’s written down. Buy whatever Annie needs! And spend more time with her—you’re not a stranger here.” Milly was silent. Two days until Michael’s return. * On the morning of his arrival, Natalie went to Milly’s room to watch Annie sleep, but Milly was gone. Only Annie lay peacefully in her cot. “Where could she be? She’s never gone to work this early before…” Natalie went about preparing her son’s favourite foods. She pictured the reunion—her son apologising, Milly back any minute. Then the doorbell rang. Michael walked in, stunned to see his mother holding a toddler. “Hi, Mum. Who’s this? What on earth happened while I was gone?” “You should know better than anyone, shouldn’t you!” Natalie fixed him with a hard look. “Let me introduce your daughter, Annie! Now, what do you have to say for yourself?” “What? I don’t have any children! Mum, have you lost your mind? What’s all this about Milly?” Infuriated, Natalie filled him in on everything, scolding him fiercely. Michael clutched at his head. “Oh, Mum, you’re so— You never learn!” “Don’t you call me a fool again! I—” “She’s not my child, Mum! Milly lied to you, and you— You’re too trusting! That’s all she wanted—your money. What did she take?” “Nothing! I never—” “Check your accounts, Mum—I bet Milly’s already halfway across the country with them!” “She’s out at work!” Natalie protested. They argued until Michael finally agreed to wait and confront Milly together. Annie played unaware as Natalie continued defending Milly’s character. “When she comes back, you’ll see—she’s wonderful!” “So wonderful she’s conned you already!” Michael replied. “We’ll settle this with a DNA test!” Natalie insisted. Night came, then morning. Milly never returned. Neither the pharmacy nor any of the workplaces she’d mentioned had heard of her. Her things were gone—from the wardrobe, from the flat, but Annie’s remained. “My God. She’s just left her own daughter behind?” Natalie wept. “She seemed so trustworthy! Why didn’t you warn me what she was like?” “I didn’t want to worry you, Mum—you always see the good in people. I heard stories about her, but I didn’t want to break your heart.” They went to the police—no trace of Milly was ever found. She had disappeared, save for the bank card, later recovered at a train station. With Milly gone, Annie was allowed to stay with Natalie. The DNA test confirmed Michael wasn’t Annie’s father, but by then Natalie had fallen in love with the little girl and couldn’t part with her. She and Michael decided to raise Annie as their own. Milly was officially stripped of parental rights, and after endless forms, Natalie was granted guardianship of Annie—returning to work, finding a nursery, and providing a loving home. A year later, Michael returned from a voyage with news. “Mum, meet my wife—Sophie. We’re moving in together.” A nervous glance toward Annie’s room, but Sophie only smiled. “It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Michaels. Michael told me everything, and I admire you so much! I’d be honoured to help raise Annie with you.” Michael added, “I’m finishing up at sea, and Sophie and I will adopt Annie soon. It’ll finally be official.” Overjoyed, Natalie set the table, wiping a happy tear from her cheek. “My prayers have been answered! Come in, everyone—let’s celebrate our family!”

Author Emily TaylorReading 17 minViews 2

The Long-Awaited Granddaughter

Margaret Brown was pressing redial on her sons phone for the hundredth time. He was away at sea again, somewhere beyond reach. There was still no signal.

Oh, what mess youve landed us in, my boy! she sighed anxiously and tried the familiar number once more. Ring as she might, thered be no answer until he reached the next portand who knew when that would be. And right now, she desperately needed to speak to him.

Margaret hadnt slept for two nights runningall because of what her son had done.

* * *

This story had actually started a few years earlier, long before Matt considered a career at sea. Her son was a grown man, yet with women, nothing ever worked out. All the girls he met were, apparently, somehow not quite right. Margaret watched with a mixture of frustration and sadness as relationship after relationship crumbled, some with thoroughly charming, respectable girlsor so she thought.

Youre impossible to get along with! she told him regularly. No ones ever good enough for you! What kind of woman will ever put up with all your demands?

I dont see why youre having a go at me, Mum. Youre so keen for a daughter-in-law that you dont even care what sort of person she is?

Thats not true! I just want someone who will love you, someone decent.

He would give her a meaningful silence in return, which always infuriated Margarether own son, the boy shed raised, who had cried on her lap as a child, acting now as if he knew more about life than she did. Who exactly was the parent here?

Well, what was so wrong with Alice? shed snap.

Ive already told you.

All right, so Alice wasnt the best example. But She wasnt going to drop the argument. Maybe, as you say, she wasnt honest. I still dont see

Mum, lets not get into the details. Alice wasnt someone I could spend my life with.

And Clare?

Her as well, Matt would answer without any hint of drama.

What about Emily? She was nice, wasnt she? Kind, homey, always offering to help out, always ready to lend a hand. Domestic, too. Surely, that counts for something?

Yes, youre right, Mum. She was lovely. But then it turned out she never actually loved me.

And you?

I think I didnt love her either.

And Laura?

Mum!

What do you mean, Mum? Youre impossible to satisfy! Honestly, you act like a playboy! Why cant you just settle down, start a family, and give me grandchildren?

Im not having this pointless row again! Matt would finally snap and storm out.

Hes just like his fatherso particular, so stubborn! Margaret thought, shaking her head in dismay.

Years passed. Girlfriends came and went, but her cherished dream to see her son happy and to cuddle grandchildren remained unfulfilled. Then Matt changed professions altogetheran old friend invited him into marine shipping. Despite her pleas, Margaret couldn’t persuade him to turn the offer down.

Its a brilliant opportunity, Mum! The pays great! Youve no idea how much these jobs bring in. Ill look after us both!

What use is all that money to me if youre always off who-knows-where and I never see you? Id rather you had a family!

Thats the point, Mum. I need to be able to provide for a family, dont I? When we have children, I cant be at sea. So Ill save up while Im young, then settle down later.

Matts pay was indeed impressive. After his first voyage, he renovated the flat. After the second, he opened a savings account and handed his mother a bank card.

This is for you, so you want for nothing.

I dont want for anything, except grandchildren. Times ticking onIm getting old!

Old? Dont be ridiculous, Mumyoure years off retirement yet! he scoffed.

She didnt touch the money. Margaret worked at the local chemist and her own modest income was enough for her needs. Let it stay on the card, as it should. Matt never checks it anyway. Hell be amazed how economical his mum is! she thought to herself.

And so life went on. On his short returns home, Matt would rush to make up for lost timemeeting mates, staying out late, and going out with girls he didnt bother to introduce to his mother. When Margaret challenged him about this, he retorted sharply:

Its for your own good, so you dont get attached and start asking why I didnt marry them. I dont intend to marry any of these women, Mum!

Margaret was hurt. Especially when her son accused her of being too trusting. He actually said:

You see people too kindly, Mum! Youre very trusting. You hardly knew my so-called girlfriends. They made a show for you, but trust methey werent what they seemed.

The rebuke lingered. Her son had basically called her naive. Naive was another word for foolish and she couldnt forget it.

But one evening, seeing Matt with a new girl, Margarets old desire to settle his future burned bright again. She walked straight upMatt, a grown man, actually blushed. But what could he do? Mums mum.

Sophie, as the girl was introduced, genuinely pleased Margaret. Tall, slim, curly-haired, with a pleasant smile and charming manners. Seeing such a lovely girl next to her son, Margaret instantly forgave Matt for all previous arguments.

Maybe lucks finally turned! Maybe its a good thing all those other girls leftotherwise hed never have found someone as pretty as Sophie! she thought.

Matts romance with Sophie lasted his whole leave, and, at Margarets urging, Sophie visited their home several times. Margaret was delighted: Sophie was well-spoken, knew plenty about all sorts of things, and was great company. But when Matt left for another voyage, Sophie simply vanished.

Were not in touch anymore, Mum, and you shouldnt try to be, either, Matt said curtly before leaving.

Margaret puzzled over what could have gone wrong, but there was no one she could ask.

* * *

A whole year passed. Matt came and went with the tides, but when Margaret tried to ask about Sophie, his answers were short and cold.

Oh, but what was so wrong with her? Why cant anything work out for you? Margaret finally blurted out.

Mum, its my business. If I ended it with her, there was a good reason. Please stay out of it.

She nearly burst into tears.

I just worry about you, Matt!

No need! he barked. And dont speak to Sophie, and please stop going on at me.

Soon Matt was off again, and Margaret was left anxiously muddling through her normal routines.

Then, one day at the chemist, a young woman came in for baby formula. It was Sophie! She lowered her eyes and adjusted her daughters hat in the buggy.

Sophie! How lovely to see you! Matt never explained a thingjust shipped off and told me not to ask about you! Margaret gushed.

Did he? Sophie replied, looking downcast. Well, let it be, then.

Margaret felt nervous. Tell me, love, what happened between you and Matt? I know my sonhes got a difficult streak. Did he hurt you?

It doesnt matter I bear him no grudge. Well be off nowweve more shopping to do.

Pop in to see me at work anytimemy shifts change but we could have a chat!

And Sophie did return the very next time Margaret was on duty, again buying baby food. Little by little, Margaret learned the truth. Sophie had become pregnant by Matt, but hed said he wasnt interestedno time for a child, always away at sea, didnt want commitment. And then he vanished.

Hes probably at sea again, Sophie sighed. Well, its just us now! Were managing fine.

Margaret knelt next to the buggy to gaze at the child.

So that makes you my granddaughter?

Yes, Sophie answered quietly. Her names Anna.

Little Anna

***

Margaret couldnt sit still. She wrangled Sophies situation out of hermoney was tight, and Sophie, who wasnt local, was renting but struggling to make ends meet. She was thinking of moving back to her hometown. The thought of her granddaughter leaving and never seeing her again made Margarets heart ache.

Come and live with me, Sophie. With Anna! Shes my granddaughter, after all. I can help out while you find steady work, and Matt earns so mucheven with just my own job, well manage! Anna will have everything she needs.

And whatll Matt say?

Why should we care? He made his bed, abandoned his child, and told his own mother nothing! It falls to me to put things right! When he comes home, hell have me to answer toIll give him a good talking to, I will! Margaret waved her fist energetically.

So thats how they came to live together. Margaret lavished attention and money on Anna, and freed up more time to spend with her. Sophie quickly found work and trusted Margaret to look after her little girl, often coming home late and exhausted.

On my feet all day, with so many demanding customerswhat a shift!

Dont worry yourself! Go put your feet up; Ill bath Anna and tuck her in.

Matts next leave was approaching. Margaret fantasised about greeting him with Anna in her arms and giving him a piece of her mind, while Sophie grew more anxious. But this only made Margaret more determinedshe felt an intense urge to protect both Sophie and her granddaughter.

Matt will come home and throw us out, I know it! I wish I hadnt agreed to move in. Ill start looking for a flat tomorrow.

He wont throw you out! No ones being tossed out. When he returns, Ill have words with him!

He will, Margaret! Its all my fault I never shouldve counted on your kindnessyouve done so much for us. But Ill go back to my parents and well stay in touch.

Thats nonsense! I own this flat, and Ill have anyone here I please. Matt can try to object if he dares!

No matter how Sophie protested, Margaret stood firm. She kept Sophie and Anna with her.

Ive been thinking, Margaret confided over dinner, I should put this flat in Annas nameno questions later. Matt will never get round to marrying, and Anna should have something. And hes not even listed on her birth certificate, is he? Margaret looked at Sophie, who blushed in embarrassment.

Im sorry, Sophie whispered. I thought

I understand. But if things ever get complicated, it might be hard to prove Anna is his. Well get everything sorted, properly.

You really dont need to, Margaret! My parents have a place too

Dont argue! Ive made up my mind.

So they tried, but the solicitor wouldnt complete the paperwork until Matt officially moved his name off the deeds.

Margaret was disappointed but decided to wait; Matt was expected home in days, and everything would be sorted then. After that, Sophie grew increasingly anxious and started coming home even later.

Where are you always disappearing to? Margaret asked one evening. Sophie hesitated.

Just at work My boss wont give me an advance this month until I finish a job he set me.

An advance? Are you short for something?

Sophie said nothing, changing quickly into her home clothes. Margaret trailed after herand noticed that some of Sophies things were packed in a large bag, hidden behind the bed.

Are you leaving? Youre not planning to move out, are you?

I have to go, Margaret. Matt will be here soon

I wont let you take my granddaughter! And you shouldnt be working day and night like this. You know where the bank card is, and the code as well. Use it to get whatever you need instead of running yourself into the ground. Anna hardly remembers what her mother looks like! If you want Matt to accept you, youll need to show you can manage a household.

Sophie fell silent. Matt was due back in two days.

* * *

On the morning of her sons return, Margaret went to check on Sophie and Anna before the child woke up. The room was empty except for Anna, sleeping soundly.

Whats going on? Where has she gone at this hour? Sophies never left this early before!

Margaret busied herself in the kitchen, prepping all of Matts favourite dishes, rehearsing in her head how shed greet him with Anna, and just what shed say to him about Sophie when she came back from work.

At long last, the doorbell rang.

Matt stepped in and froze when he saw his mother holding a little girl.

Hello, Mum. Whose child is this? What did I miss while I was away?

As if you dont know, Matt!

I really have no ideafill me in, Mum. Whats happened while Ive been gone?

You want adventures? Well, I found my granddaughter, Anna! Thats what happened! she announced, fixing him with a stern look.

My granddaughter? Mum, have I suddenly gained siblings I never knew about? Matt looked bemused.

Stop playing games, Matt! Sophie told me everything. I didnt raise you to act like this! Im ashamed of you.

Sophie? Wait, I asked you not to talk to her. And what does Sophie have to do with this child?

So, now riled, Margaret let it all outevery detail, with plenty of reproach. On hearing her story, Matt buried his face in his hands.

Oh, Mum, for goodness sake!

What, are you calling me naive again? Go on, say it. Im

Shes not my child, Mum. Sophie tricked you. You are just so trusting! Wait, she only cares about money, I saw it straight away. Whats she taken?

Nothing! Youre impossible

Mum, check your money! Sophies probably cleared out by now!

Shes just gone to work! Margaret insisted.

They argued back and forth until Matt eventually gave in, agreeing to wait for Sophie to return, and put everything in order.

They waited late into the night. Margaret told him how shed met Sophie, how theyd lived while Matt was away, and her plans for Annas future. Matt kept saying shed been taken for a ride, but

I dont believe you. Sophies a wonderful girl

Shes a wonderful con artist. And you fell for it!

Stop it! When she comes back, youll see! Ill be with my granddaughter until then.

Shes not your granddaughter!

Margaret glared at her son.

In any case, we can settle this with a DNA test.

Indeed we will! declared Margaret, and left the room.

Evening turned to night; Sophie never returned. Nor did she the next day. Her phone was silent. When Margaret tried to find out at work, where Sophie had said she worked, nobody recognised her. Even after showing photos, the answer didnt change.

Hurriedly, Margaret checked her savings, as Matt had advisedno money, no card. Sophies clothes were gone, tooexcept for Annas. Only then did Margaret realise shed been deceived.

How could this happen? No, I cant believe it! She cant have abandoned Anna and just disappeared?

She absolutely could! Matt answered grimly. I was warned about her; friends said she did the same to them. Then Freddy told me about being robbed by her. But I was already seeing her, brought her home, then suddenly she claimed she was pregnantwho knows by whom. She said it was me but the lads told me exactly what she was like.

Ive been such a fool! Margaret cried. Why didnt you tell me? Id have known what sort of snake she is!

I wanted to spare your feelings, Mum. You always see the good in people. I didnt want to upset you.

So what now?

Well go to the police. Thank heavens you couldnt sign the flat over to Anna. Otherwise, youd be on the street.

They filed a report, but Sophie was never foundshe vanished without a trace. For a while, Margaret was allowed to keep Anna, requiring her to leave her job temporarily. Thankfully, Matts earnings supported them. DNA testing confirmed Matt was not the father, but Margaret had grown deeply attached to Anna and couldnt bear to let her go. After discussing it, they decided to raise Anna as their own. Sophies parental rights were revoked in her absence, but it took months for Margaret to arrange legal guardianship. Matt was denied adoption, so Margaret returned to work to prove regular income, found Anna a place at a local nursery, and adjusted to their new life. Their routine finally settled.

A year later, Matt returned from a voyage with a surprisea wife.

Mum, meet Sarah. Well be living together now.

How about Margaret began, gesturing uncertainly towards Annas room, not sure if Matt had told his new wife everything.

But Sarah smiled warmly:

Its lovely to meet you, Mrs. Brown! Matts told me all about Anna and your kindness. Im honestly in awe of what youve done. If youll let me, Id love to help raise Anna. Id be honoured, truly She looked at Matt.

Yes, Im leaving the ships for good. Sarah and I want to adopt Anna, officially. This time, they wont say no!

Margarets heart nearly burst with happiness.

Goodness me, what joy! Come on, both of youtables set, everythings readywe have so much to celebrate! I cant tell you how happy I am. She wiped away a tear.

And so, Margarets family grewnot as shed planned, but in ways that left her heart full. She learned that love isnt about blood or grand designs, but about opening your home and heart to those who need it most. Trust, even when misplaced, can still bring new hope. And sometimes, family is exactly where you choose to find it.

You Don’t Deserve It “I thought I’d never trust anyone again after my divorce,” Andrew murmured, absentmindedly turning an empty espresso cup between his fingers. His voice broke, trembling with such sincerity that Kate instinctively leaned closer. “You know, when someone betrays you, it’s like losing a part of yourself. She left me with wounds that may never heal. I really thought I’d never make it through…” Andrew’s sighs and stories spilled out for over an hour—about the ex-wife who never valued him, about pain that wouldn’t let go, about the terror of starting over. Each word settled in Kate’s heart like a warm pebble. She pictured herself as the woman who would help piece him together, proving real love was still possible. Together, she’d nurse his scars until he understood happiness could finally be his—with her. Max didn’t come up until their second date, just as dessert gave way to coffee. “I’ve got a son, by the way. He’s seven. Lives with his mum, but the courts say I get him on weekends,” Andrew explained. “That’s lovely!” Kate beamed. “Children are such a blessing.” Already, she was imagining Saturday breakfasts for three, trips to the park, cosy evenings in with cartoons. A boy his age needed a woman’s touch, motherly warmth. She’d be his second mum—not a replacement, but a loving presence nonetheless. “You’re sure you’re okay with that?” Andrew gave her a strange little smile, which she read as uncertainty. “Plenty of women bolt as soon as they hear about the kid.” “I’m not plenty of women,” she replied with quiet pride. The first weekend with Max turned out to be a celebration. Kate made blueberry pancakes—his favourite, Andrew had tipped her off. She patiently talked him through his maths homework. Washed his dinosaur T-shirt, ironed his school uniform, and made sure he was in bed by nine. “You should put your feet up,” she quietly said, catching Andrew sprawled on the sofa with the TV remote. “I’ve got it covered.” He nodded—a grateful nod, she thought then. Later, she’d realise it was more the nod of an owner, calmly accepting what was his due. Months blurred into years. Kate worked long shifts as a logistics manager—leaving at eight, back by seven. The pay was good, at least for London. Enough for two, just about. But there were three of them. “There’s another hold-up on the building site,” Andrew would announce, as if relaying a natural disaster. “The client’s backed out. But a big contract’s just around the corner, promise you.” That “big contract” had been “just around the corner” for over a year and a half. Sometimes closer, sometimes receding—but never arriving. The bills, however, never failed to show up. Rent. Electric. Broadband. Groceries. Support for Max’s mum. New trainers for Max. School fees. Kate paid them all in silence. She skimped on lunch, brought leftovers in Tupperware, skipped on taxis in the rain. No money for nails for a year—she filed them herself, recalling a time she could have treated herself at the salon. In three years, Andrew gave her flowers exactly three times. Kate remembered every bouquet—sad petrol-station roses from the kiosk beside Sainsbury’s, half-wilted and blunt-thorned, always on sale. The first bunch was an apology after Andrew called her “hysterical” in front of Max. The second after a row over her friend turning up without warning. The third he brought home when he missed her birthday—too busy at the pub, having simply forgotten. “Andrew, I don’t need expensive gifts,” she’d try, speaking softly, choosing her words. “But sometimes—I’d just like to know you think of me. Even a card…” He’d sneer. “So it’s all about the money, eh? Presents? What about love—don’t you care what I’ve been through?” “I didn’t mean—” “You don’t deserve it.” Andrew flung those words at her the way one might flick mud from a shoe. “After everything I’ve done for you, all you do is complain.” Kate fell silent. She always did. Easier that way. Easier to breathe, to pretend everything was fine. Meanwhile, Andrew found money easily for drinks with his mates: pints on Thursdays, football at the pub, late-night kebabs. He’d stumble home reeking of lager and tobacco, dropping onto the bed as if Kate weren’t even there beside him. She assured herself it was normal. Love meant sacrifice. Patience. He’d change. Of course he would. She just needed to give more, love him harder—he deserved that, after everything he’d suffered. Discussions about a wedding became a minefield. “Why do we need a bit of paper?” Andrew would shrug, brushing her off like a pesky fly. “After what happened with my ex? Give me time.” “Three years, Andrew. That’s a long time.” “You’re pressuring me. You always pressure me!” He’d storm out. End of conversation. Kate longed for a child—her own. She was twenty-eight; the clock’s tick grew louder every month. But Andrew, already a father, had no interest in another child. One Saturday, she asked for a single day. “The girls want to get together. I’ll be home by the evening.” Andrew stared at her as if she’d announced a solo trip around the world. “And Max?” “He’s your son. You can spend a day with him.” “You’re abandoning us? On a Saturday? When I wanted a bit of peace?” Kate blinked. In three years, she’d never once left them alone. Not one free day. She’d cooked, cleaned, helped with homework—plus held down her own job. “I just want to see my friends—for a few hours… And he is your son, Andrew. Can’t you spend a day with him?” “You’re supposed to love my kid like you love me!” Andrew exploded. “You live in my flat, eat my food, and now you’ve got the nerve to get stroppy?” His flat. His food. Kate paid the rent. Kate bought the groceries. Three years supporting a man who shouted at her for wanting one day with friends. She looked at Andrew—his twisted face, bulging vein, clenched fists—and really saw him, maybe for the first time. Not a broken soul. Not a victim crying out for rescue. An adult man, well-practised at using other people’s kindness. To him, Kate wasn’t a partner or a future wife. She was free childcare and an ATM, nothing more. When Andrew left to drop Max off, Kate packed her overnight bag. Steady hands. No shaking. No doubts. Passport. Phone. Charger. A few T-shirts and jeans. She could buy the rest later—none of it mattered. She didn’t leave a note. What could she possibly explain to someone who’d never seen her as more than convenient? The door closed behind her with a quiet click—no drama required. The calls started an hour later. Once. Twice. A torrent—her phone vibrating wild with outrage. “Where are you?! What’s going on?! You’re just not here? What gives you the right? Where’s my dinner? Am I meant to starve? This is bang out of order!” Kate listened—his voice, angry and indignant, ringing out as if he was the one wronged. Even now, after she’d left, Andrew only thought of himself. His lost comfort, his dinner. No “sorry.” No “are you okay?” Just “how dare you?” Kate blocked his number. His WhatsApp. His social media—everywhere he might reach, she bricked up walls. Three years. Three years living with a man who never loved her. Who bled her dry. Who tricked her into believing love was nothing but self-sacrifice. But that’s not love. Not the real thing. Love doesn’t mean humiliation. It doesn’t reduce a person to a live-in maid. Kate walked the London streets at dusk, breathing easier than she had in years. She promised herself: Never again would she mistake self-erasure for love. Never again would she waste her heart on someone who lived for pity. She’d always choose herself. From this moment on. — Title: You Don’t Deserve It

You Don’t Deserve It “I thought I’d never trust anyone again after my divorce,” Andrew turned an empty espresso cup in his hands, his voice cracking so convincingly that Kate couldn’t help but lean in. “You know, when someone betrays you, it’s like losing a piece of yourself. She left me scarred for life. I didn’t think I’d recover…” Andrew sighed heavily as he talked at length—about his ex-wife who never appreciated him, the pain that wouldn’t go away, and his fear of starting over. Each word landed softly on Kate’s heart, and she pictured herself as the woman who would restore his faith in love. Together, she would heal his wounds. He’d see that real happiness was only possible with her. Andrew mentioned Max on their second date, somewhere between dessert and coffee… “I’ve got a son, by the way. Seven years old. He’s with his mum, but spends every weekend with me. That’s how the court arranged things.” “That’s wonderful!” Kate beamed. “Children are a blessing.” She could already see it: Saturday breakfasts for three, trips to the park, cozy evenings watching TV. The boy needed a woman’s care, a mother’s warmth. She’d be a second mum—not a replacement, of course, but someone close, someone he could count on… “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Andrew looked at her with a strange half-smile she mistook for distrust. “Most women run away when they find out about the kid.” “I’m not most women,” she replied, proudly. Their first weekend with Max was a celebration. Kate made blueberry pancakes—his favourite, as Andrew had warned her. She patiently went through his maths book, explained the sums in plain English, washed his dinosaur T-shirt, ironed his school uniform, made sure he was tucked up by nine. “You need a break,” she told Andrew once, smoothing his hair as he lounged on the couch, remote in hand. “I can handle this.” He nodded gratefully—or so she thought. Now she realized it was the nod of a man accepting what he felt was owed to him. Months blended into years. Kate worked as a logistics manager, out of the house by eight, back by seven. Decent salary—by London standards, at least. Enough for two. But there were three of them. “Another delay on the site,” Andrew would sigh, as if lighting struck every time. “The client’s let us down. But there’s a big contract coming soon, I promise.” The “big contract” had been on the horizon for a year and a half. Sometimes closer, sometimes further away, never materializing. But bills were reliable. Rent, utilities, groceries, maintenance, school supplies, new trainers, child support for Andrew’s ex. Kate paid everything quietly. She cut costs, packed leftovers for work, walked in the rain rather than pay for a cab. It had been a year since she’d afforded a manicure—she filed her nails herself now, trying not to remember when a salon wasn’t a luxury. In three years, Andrew gave her flowers exactly three times. Kate remembered each awkward bunch—cheap roses from the Tesco outside their block, wilted and with snapped stems, half-price specials. The first time: as apology after Andrew called her hysterical in front of Max. The second: after a row about her friend dropping in unannounced. The third: for missing her birthday because he stayed too long with mates—he’d simply forgotten. “Andrew, I don’t need expensive gifts,” she tried to choose her words gently. “But sometimes, I’d like to know you think of me. Even just a card…” His face twisted. “All you ever care about is money, isn’t it? Presents? What about love? What I’ve been through?” “That’s not—” “You don’t deserve it.” He flung the words at her like mud. “After everything I do for you, you’ve the nerve to complain.” Kate went quiet. She always did—it was simpler. Easier to live, to breathe, to pretend everything was fine. Meanwhile, Andrew always found money for pub nights with mates. Watching the game, cafés on Thursdays. He’d roll home, half-drunk, stinking of beer and sweat, flopping onto the bed without even noticing Kate was awake. She convinced herself this was normal. Love meant sacrifice. Love meant patience. He would change. He had to. She’d just give more, love harder—after all, he’d suffered so much… Talk of marriage was a minefield. “We’re happy as we are—why bother with a certificate?” Andrew swatted the subject away like a fly. “After what I went through with Melissa, I need time.” “It’s been three years, Andrew. That’s a long time.” “You’re pushing me. You’re always pushing!” He’d storm out, the conversation going nowhere. Kate wanted children. Her own. She was twenty-eight and her biological clock was getting louder every month. But Andrew had no plans to become a dad again—one son was enough, in his view. That Saturday, she asked for just one day—a single day. “The girls have invited me over. It’s been ages. I’ll be back in the evening.” Andrew looked at her as if she’d announced plans to move continents. “And what about Max?” “You’re his dad. Spend the day together.” “So you’re abandoning us? On a Saturday? When I was counting on time to relax?” Kate blinked. For three years, she’d never left them alone. Not once asked for a free day. She cooked, cleaned, tutored, washed, ironed—all on top of a full-time job. “I just want to see my friends. A few hours… And he’s your son, Andrew. Surely you can manage one day?” “You’re supposed to love my son like you love me!” he suddenly yelled. “You live in my flat, eat my food, and now you’ve got an attitude?!” His flat. His food. Kate paid for both, with her own salary. Three years she’d supported a man who shouted because she dared to ask for a day off. She looked at Andrew—at his distorted face, the vein throbbing at his temple, his clenched fists—and saw him, truly, for the first time. Not a wounded soul. Not a casualty of circumstance. But an adult who’d mastered the art of exploiting someone else’s kindness. Kate wasn’t his beloved, nor his future wife. She was a financial donor and free housekeeper. Nothing more. When Andrew left to drop Max at Melissa’s, Kate reached for her overnight bag. Her hands moved steadily—no trembling, no hesitation. Passport. Phone. Charger. A couple of T-shirts. Jeans. She could buy the rest later. None of it mattered. She didn’t bother with a note. What would be the point—explaining herself to someone who never truly saw her? The door shut quietly behind her, no fuss, no drama… The calls started within the hour. First one, then another, then a relentless barrage—her phone buzzing with Andrew’s fury. “Kate, where are you?! What’s going on?! I get home and you’re gone! What the hell do you think you’re playing at?! Where’s dinner? Am I supposed to go hungry? Unbelievable—” She listened to his voice—angry, entitled, self-righteous—and almost laughed. Even now, Andrew only thought of inconveniences to himself. Who’d cook his dinner. Not one “sorry.” Not even, “Are you alright?” Only: “How dare you?” Kate blocked his number, his messaging app, his social media—anywhere he could reach her, she put up a wall. Three years. Three years with a man who didn’t love her. Who used her kindness up. Who’d convinced her sacrifice equalled love. But that wasn’t love. Love doesn’t mean humiliation. Love doesn’t turn a human being into a servant. Strolling through London in the evening, Kate breathed easier than she had in years. She made a promise—never again to confuse love with self-abandonment. Never again to save those who trade on sympathy. To always choose herself. Only herself.