Your son is so dullnothing good will ever come of him!
Emily froze in the doorway, nearly dropping the cake from her hands. Her mother glared at her disapprovingly, as if Emily had done something wrong.
“Mum, what are you talking about?” Emily set the cake on the table. “What does this have to do with Oliver?”
“It has everything to do with him! He’s in Year 8 and still at a regular comprehensive school!” Her mother raised her voice. “No specialisations, no advanced programmes. How is he supposed to get into a decent university? How is he supposed to achieve anything?”
Emily bit her lip. The conversation was following its usual script, and a sharp pang of injustice burned in her chest.
“Mum, Oliver does well in school. He gets top marks in most subjects. He has a maths tutor and wants to go into programming, just like Simon.”
“Exactly!” Her mother threw her hands up. “Programming! Sitting at a computer, just like your Simon. A mediocre job, a mediocre salary. And youa teacher! A tutor! Barely earning pennies. Do you even feed your child properly?”
Emily clenched her fists. Her mothers words struck every sore spot. Yes, she and Simon werent wealthythey had to budget carefully. But their son Oliver was happy.
“Were doing fine. Oliver is happy.”
“Happy!” Her mother scoffed and walked to the window. “Edwards boy, now thats a real treasure. Thomas goes to a grammar school with a focus on French. Imagine that! Fluent since primary school. Edward and Louise are doing everything rightinvesting in their child, not holding back. And what are you doing?”
Emily listened in silence. Her brother had always been the favourite. Hed started his own small business, bought a bigger house, and his wife Louise stayed home to raise their son. Every time, their mother made sure to contrast them.
“Thomas is such a gifted boy!” she continued warmly. “Now theres someone wholl go far. Edward says theyre planning to send him abroad for language immersion. At thirteen! Thats real care for his future. Not this ordinary school nonsense.”
Emily stepped closer. Her mothers shoulders were tense, her expression stern.
“Mum, I know you want your grandchildren to succeed. But Oliver isnt worse than Thomas. They just have different paths.”
“Different paths!” Her mother spun around. “One path leads upto success. The other leads to mediocrity and struggle. Is that what you want for your son? For him to live in poverty?”
Something inside Emily twisted.
“Were not poor. We live within our means. Oliver will grow up to be a good mankind, hardworking, intelligent.”
“Hardworking!” Her mother snorted. “Thats not enough in this world, Emily. You need connections, money, a prestigious education. What does Oliver have? A comprehensive school and a mother who barely makes ends meet.”
Emily turned away. The cake shed lovingly decorated with berries now seemed pointless.
“Mum, I dont want to argue. Were raising Oliver the way we think is right. And hes happy.”
“His future is what matters!” Her mother stepped closer. “Youre ruining him with your carelessness. Edward understands. Hes making sure Thomas becomes someone important. You? Youre just drifting along.”
Emily shook her head. Arguing was useless. Her mother wouldnt budge, and nothing would change her mind.
“Fine, Mum. Lets just have lunch. Simon and Oliver will be here soon.”
As expected, lunch was strained. Her mother raved about Thomass achievements, how proud Edward was. Oliver ate quietly, glancing at Emily, who forced a smile to reassure him.
After that day, Emily realised shed have to limit contact with her mother. The constant comparisons hurt too much. She still called on holidays but stopped hosting family gatherings. Her mother sulked, but Emily held firm. She had to protect her son from the toxicity.
Years passed. Oliver grew up, studied, and pursued programming. Occasionally, Emily heard updates about her brother. Thomas graduated with top marks, got into a prestigious universitythough not without his fathers connections.
Oliver graduated too, earning a place at a technical college on merit. By his third year, he was working at a small IT firm. Emily and Simon were proud. But her mother still only talked about Thomas.
More years slipped by. The children were nearly thirty. At their mothers birthday party, the family gathered. Edward and Louise arrived, and so did Thomastall, handsome, with an artists careless charm. Hed worked briefly after uni before quitting to start a band. Edward funded the equipment. Two years later, the band hadnt taken off. Thomas still lived with his parents, unemployed.
Emily watched as her mother fussed over Thomas, glowing with pride, oblivious to his indifference as he scrolled through his phone. To her, he was still the golden grandchild.
Oliver sat with his wife, Anna, newly married and four months pregnant. He worked for a major tech company, earned well, rented a flat, and saved for a home. But his grandmother barely noticed him.
Emily saw her husbands jaw tighten. Anna watched Oliver worriedly, but he just smiled and squeezed her hand.
The evening dragged on. Her mother boasted to guests about Thomass band, certain fame was just around the corner. Emily stayed silent.
Finally, it ended. Simon, Oliver, and Anna left first, waiting by the car. As Emily wrapped her scarf in the hallway, her mother approached.
“Emily, wait. I need to say something.”
Emily stilled. Her mother spoke quietly but firmly.
“Your Oliver is so dull, Emily. Grey, ordinary. Just like you and Simon. No spark. But Thomasnow theres brilliance. Hell show everyone one day. Your son? He just exists. Works, got married, soon a child. Nothing special. Hes like millions of others.”
Emily stared at her. Something inside her shattered.
She exhaled slowly, meeting her mothers eyes.
“You know, Mum, I used to think you criticised me to make me a better parentto push me to care more. But I was wrong. You just didnt love my son. All these years, you made sure I knew he wasnt good enough.”
Her mother paled. Emily calmly buttoned her coat.
“But heres the truth. My son is brilliantkind, hardworking, decent. Soon, hell be a father, and hell be amazing. Because I never let him know his grandmother didnt love him. I protected him from your poison. I made sure he grew up happy.”
Her mother stood speechless. Emily picked up her bag.
“Keep your opinions about us to yourself. I dont care anymore. I spent too many years begging for your love. No more. Live how you want. Love who you want. Im done playing this game. Ill have a grandchild soonand Ill love them the way a grandmother should.”
She walked out, shutting the door behind her. Simon hugged her by the car. Oliver smiled. As she sat down, an unfamiliar calm settled over her. No more pretending. No more proving.
It had taken years, but she was finally free. She had everything that mattereda real family. What more did anyone need?
