Your son is so dullnothing good will ever come of him!
Eleanor froze in the doorway, nearly dropping the cake in her hands. Her mother glared at her, disapproval etched into her face as if Eleanor had committed some unforgivable sin.
Mum, what are you talking about? Eleanor set the cake on the table. What does Jacob have to do with this?
Everything! Her mothers voice sharpened. Hes in Year Seven and still at a state school! No specialisations, no advanced programmes. How will he get into a decent university? How will he ever make something of himself?
Eleanor bit her lip. The conversation was unfolding just as shed dreaded, and a familiar sting of injustice burned in her chest.
Mum, Jacob gets top marks in nearly every subject. He has a maths tutorhe wants to go into programming, like his dad.
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! Tutoring for pennies. Do you even feed your son properly?
Eleanor clenched her fists. Each word hit like a blade, slicing at old wounds. Yes, she and Simon werent wealthy. They budgeted carefully. But their son, Jacob, was happy.
Were doing fine. Jacob *is* happy.
Happy! Her mother scoffed and stalked to the window. Now, take Williams boy*thats* a proper grandson. Olivers at a grammar school with a specialism in Latin. Latin, Eleanor! Fluent since he was seven. William and Helen put everything into that boyspared no expense.
Eleanor listened in silence. William had always been the favourite. A small business owner, a bigger house, his wife Helen a stay-at-home mum. And every time, their mother made sure to draw the comparison.
Oliver is *brilliant*, her mother went on, softening. William says theyre sending him abroad for immersion next summer. At thirteen! Thats how you secure a future. Not this *ordinary* life youve settled for.
Eleanor stepped closer. Her mothers shoulders were rigid, her expression unyielding.
Mum, I know you want the best for your grandchildren. But Jacob isnt less than Oliverjust different.
Different! Her mother whirled around. One path leads up. The other? Straight to mediocrity. Is that what you want? For him to scrape by his whole life?
Something inside Eleanor twisted.
Were not scraping by. We live within our means. And Jacob will grow up kind, clever, hardworking
Hardworking! Her mother snorted. Thats not enough, Eleanor. Its about connections, prestige, *money*. What does Jacob have? A state school and a mother who barely makes ends meet.
Eleanor turned away. The cake shed baked with love now seemed pointless.
I wont argue, Mum. Were raising him how we think is right.
Its his *future* that matters! Her mother stepped closer. Youre failing him. William *understands*. Hes making sure Oliver becomes someone. You? Youre just drifting.
Eleanor shook her head. There was no winning. Her mothers mind was made up.
Lets just eat, Mum. Simon and Jacob will be home soon.
Dinner passed in tense silence. Her mother prattled on about Olivers achievements, Williams pride. Jacob ate quietly, glancing at his mum. Eleanor smiled back, pretending everything was fine.
After that day, she knewshed have to distance herself. The comparisons hurt too much.
Years passed. Jacob thrived. He studied, interned at a tech firm. Eleanor heard snippets about Olivertop grades, a place at Oxford (with his fathers influence). Jacob got into a polytechnic on merit alone. By his third year, he was employed. Simon beamed. But her mother? Still fixated on Oliver.
At her mothers seventieth, the family gathered. William, Helen, Olivertall, handsome, with artfully tousled hair. Hed quit his corporate job to pursue music. William funded his studio. Two years later? No success. Oliver still lived at home, unemployed.
Yet her mother doted on him, blind to his apathy.
Jacob sat with his wife, Anna, newly pregnant. He worked for a major firm, saved for a house. But her mother barely glanced his way.
Simons jaw tightened. Anna watched Jacob, concerned. But he just squeezed her hand, smiling.
The evening dragged. Her mother gushed about Olivers genius, his inevitable fame. Eleanor stayed quiet.
As they left, her mother caught her in the hall.
Eleanor, wait.
She turned.
Your Jacob hes so *dull*. Ordinary. Like you and Simon. No spark. But Oliver*hes* special. A star. Your boy? Just another face in the crowd.
Eleanor exhaled slowly. Something inside her shattered.
All these years, I thought you wanted me to be better. Push harder. But no. You never loved him. You just needed me to knowhe wasnt enough.
Her mother paled.
But Jacob *is* enough. Clever, kind, decent. Hell be a wonderful father. Because I *protected* him from you.
She buttoned her coat.
Keep your opinions. Im done begging for your love.
Outside, Simon hugged her. Jacob smiled.
For the first time, Eleanor felt free.
She had everything that mattered.
A real family.
And that was enough.
