The Price of a Daughter’s Happiness
Margaret Whitmore lived alone, endlessly complaining to her neighbours about her ungrateful daughter and granddaughter, who had abandoned her.
*”I gave them my whole life, and in return, those closest to me—cruel and heartless—left me to fate,”* she lamented.
Margaret, a stout elderly woman, moaned about her family but never mentioned how her daughter, Claire, sent her money every month, or how her granddaughter, Emily, had tried repeatedly to reconcile, only for Margaret to demand she divorce her husband first. Each time, Emily would sigh bitterly and walk away.
Emily now had her own family—married to Oliver. Both had graduated from university and found steady jobs. They lived with Oliver’s mother but planned to buy a flat with a mortgage, especially with a baby on the way.
How she ended up with Oliver was another story entirely. The torment Margaret had put her through!
One evening, Emily burst through the door, beaming.
*”Mum, Gran, Oliver and I are getting married!”* She was only nineteen, her whole life ahead, brimming with joy as she laughed.
Margaret slowly lifted her eyes, as if doubting her ears, while Claire kept her head low, silent. Emily couldn’t fathom why they weren’t happy for her.
*”Mum, Gran, didn’t you hear me? I’m getting married!”*
*”Absolutely not,”* Margaret snapped. *”Over my dead body.”* Emily’s joy evaporated.
*”What do you mean? Gran, what’s wrong? Mum?”* She hesitated. *”I thought you’d be happy for me.”*
*”You must be pregnant,”* Margaret accused.
*”No! What gave you that idea?”*
Claire sat in stubborn silence, refusing to meet her daughter’s gaze.
*”Good. Then forget this nonsense until after you’ve graduated. Sit down for dinner.”*
*”I’m not hungry—Oliver and I already had pizza.”* Emily was bewildered. Why were they reacting like this?
Strange. Her mother wouldn’t speak. Emily had rushed home to share her happiness, expecting support.
*”Mum, why won’t you say anything?”*
Claire seemed to stir, frowning before casting a nervous glance at Margaret. She sighed heavily.
*”Emily… Your gran’s right. It’s too soon. Finish university first. And really, who marries so young these days?”*
*”I don’t care what’s *in*—Oliver and I love each other! We’ll still graduate—you’ll see. But I *will* marry him, no matter what.”*
Margaret couldn’t help but hiss at Claire:
*”Well, look what you’ve raised. The apple doesn’t fall far. She’s marrying some penniless boy, just like you nearly did. Thank God I stopped you back then.”*
Emily was stunned. She’d never known her father. She turned to Claire, who now hung her head lower.
*”Gran… Did Mum almost marry my dad?* You *stopped her?”*
Margaret scoffed.
*”Marry what? Some broke student? Yes, I forbade it.”*
*”He wasn’t broke—he owns a business now,”* Claire muttered.
Margaret blinked. *”You’ve been speaking to him?”*
*”He found me online. We’ve been talking. But he lives in Manchester now—stayed there after uni.”*
Emily’s shock deepened. *”Mum, explain. You always told me he left when he found out about me. But you were going to marry him? Why didn’t you?”*
Mother and grandmother exchanged glances. Claire’s shoulders slumped as Margaret declared:
*”I stopped it. For her own good. My life was ruined—I thought at least my daughter could marry properly.”*
Emily gaped. All these years, they’d lied about her father.
*”Mum, why didn’t you fight for him?”*
Claire shrank further.
*”Fight whom?”* Margaret sneered. *”Me? Futile. I gave her a choice—him or me.”*
Emily couldn’t believe it.
*”How could you accept that, Mum?* How?”
Claire’s voice was hollow.
*”What could we have lived on? Two student grants? And then you’d have come along. His parents couldn’t help—they had three other children.”*
*”Did you even try?”* Emily cried. *”You just gave up? Did he?”*
*”Of course not!”* Margaret cut in. *”He haunted our doorstep until I threatened to call the police!”* Emily glared.
*”Well, Gran, I couldn’t care less about your rules. I’ll work weekends if I have to—but I’m marrying Oliver.”*
*”Mum, why didn’t you remarry?”*
Margaret scoffed again.
*”Marry whom? Every man she fancied was worthless!”*
Suddenly, Claire straightened, her eyes bright as she met Emily’s gaze.
*”Marry Oliver. Be happy. If it’s meant to be, it’ll work—and if not, you’ll find your way. But it’ll be your choice, not hers. Your happiness means more to me than anything.”*
Margaret erupted.
*”What nonsense are you spouting?”*
*”I’m telling her to *live*—not obey you like I did. You ruined my life. You won’t ruin hers.”*
For the first time, Margaret was speechless. Claire had never stood up to her before.
*”This won’t happen!”* Margaret stamped her foot.
*”Gran, save your tantrums. I’m not afraid of you. And I have Mum’s support now.”*
*”We’ll see about that!”*
Emily smiled coldly. *”Don’t bother meeting Oliver. I won’t let you poison this.”*
Margaret fumed. She’d controlled Claire effortlessly—why couldn’t she crush Emily too?
Emily married Oliver. Margaret boycotted the wedding.
*”Good riddance—she’d only have ruined it,”* Emily told Oliver.
Claire watched, joyful. Her daughter had fought where she’d failed.
*”You’ll never guess,”* Claire confessed weeks later. *”Your father proposed. His wife left three years ago. He’s asked me to move to Manchester.”*
Emily beamed. *”Say yes! You deserve this. And I finally get to meet him!”*
Her father was overjoyed, even helping with their mortgage deposit. Claire moved to Manchester, married him at last, and discovered true happiness—two decades later than she should have. As for Margaret? She could stew alone. They hadn’t abandoned her. But they’d stopped letting her rule their lives.
