15November2025
Ive reached the point where Im convinced Emily is a genuine treasure. Yet I keep asking myself: who did she have that child for? For herself or for us? I drag myself home after a long shift, hoping for a quiet dinner, a bit of relaxation, some time together only to be forced into looking after someone elses kid.
The child isnt exactly a stranger; Emily winced and sighed. Honestly, Im not keen about this either, she admitted. But Charlotte needed a manicure and you cant take a toddler into a salon.
Mark fidgeted with his jacket, halfunbuttoned it, and flung it onto the chair. Hed rather feed his nephew in his own loungewear; its easier than trying to keep the babys puree from splashing everywhere.
I get it, I really do, but a nail appointment cant wait? Are you the only one she can rely on? Why does our family feel more like a nursery? Mums still around, but she cant be on call every single day, especially when Emily is pulling noodles at the last minute.
Maybe you could help, Mark, Emily interjected, for everyone except yourself and me.
Marks brow furrowed, then he exhaled and relaxed a touch. His expression softened; his wife isnt his enemy, just an inexhaustible well of needs.
Emily, if you dont cut her off at the neck, shell keep hanging around, and youll be to blame, he said, quoting an old saying about the driver and the load.
Emily pretended to be engrossed in cooking, but inside she knew Mark was right. She was torn between not wanting to become a second mother to her nephew and not wanting to spark a family feud.
It all began innocently.
Emily, Im coming down with a cold and Ive got little Tommy in my arms. I need to pop to the chemist but cant leave the child alone. I cant do it on my own. Please help, I asked.
Without hesitation Emily sprang into action, ignoring the delivery. Her sister was ill, possibly seriously, and she felt she had to rescue her.
That rescue became a habit.
Need to pick up the phone from the repair shop? Charlottes calling. Ran out of groceries? Emilys on it again. Package arrived at the collection point? Emily darts over like a private courier.
Emily could pull off such feats because she works remotely with a flexible schedule, allowing her to break away. That doesnt mean its convenient. The fifteenminute walk to Charlottes flat, plus the roundtrip, the queue, the waiting, and the little lifehassle all chew up at least an hour.
Now Emily works mostly evenings and sometimes nights when the flat is silent. Her husband isnt thrilled, and neither is she. She tried to talk to her sister.
Charlotte, hows it going with James? Does he pitch in at all? Emily asked cautiously while handing over yet another parcel from Amazon Fresh.
He helps, sort of, Charlotte replied. Hes at work, comes home exhausted. God willing hell sit with the baby while I take a shower, the rest is on me.
Charlotte looks after her own husband, but she never thinks of yours, nor yours, Emily. Emily snorted and fell silent.
And his mum? She lives nearby, right?
Dont mention it! Charlotte rolled her eyes. Ive had enough of that toad. When she shows up, its a headache until bedtime. Shes not a woman, just a wellofunwanted advice. Better starve than ask her for anything.
Is there anyone else? Oksana has a toddler about the same age as yours. You could team up: one watches, the other runs errands. Or Grace, who doesnt work at all.
Its uncomfortable to lean on strangers, Charlotte admitted. They dont owe us anything.
Leaning on your own is easier, Emily sighed.
Thats when Emily decided to say no to her sister. Even without Marks prompting, she knew it wasnt right.
The opportunity knocked the next day. Charlotte called, saying shed booked a salon appointment.
Emily, come over and look after the baby for an hour, she demanded, tone now more command than request.
Emilys anger flared. Why should she rearrange her plans just so Charlotte can get her nails done?
No, Charlotte, I cant today. Sorry.
What do you mean you cant?
I cant solve all your problems. I have a life of my own.
I understand, but what am I to do? Ive already booked, I cant let the salon down. I wont forgive you if you wont help.
You didnt ask me before you booked. Im not a girlfriend or a motherhen. Sort it out yourself.
Fine, Charlotte snapped, hurt. Its easy for you to say that you dont have kids. You have no idea how hard it is.
She knew the nephew was slowly becoming her son, but Emily kept quiet. She avoided conflict, and even this refusal felt like a small triumph.
Charlotte didnt give up; she called mum.
How can you say no? her mother pleaded. Your sister has a child and you refuse! Who will help her if not us?
When she asked me for medicine, I went because it mattered. Now she calls every day about trivial things. Today she even booked a salon! Does it have to be that urgent? She just wants to look pretty, like any woman. Understand that.
Emily raised an eyebrow. No one had ever been in her shoes.
Mum, if youre so clever, help her.
I? I can barely get around! her mother replied. Youre young, its easier for you.
The young, childless, still at home comments I hear constantly, Emily thought, weary. That day she held her ground and didnt help her sister.
In retaliation, her mother and Charlotte gave her the silent treatment for a week, acting as if she didnt exist. Others might have taken it calmly, but Emily couldnt find a place for herself and wondered how to mend things.
A week later Charlotte called again, asking Emily to watch the baby while she got a manicure. Emily agreed, even though she despised herself for it. She was choosing between being cast out of the family or enduring.
Youre soft one minute, sharp the next, Mark said after hearing it. Be careful, or shell never back off.
Emily sighed and nodded. Late that night she mulled over how to decline without creating a scene.
The next day the phone rang, predictably.
Emily, I cant anymore. The babys feverish, hes been crying since morning, and Im running around like a hamster! I cant even sit down or use the loo. Come, well manage together, even if its four of us.
I cant, Im working. We have strict monitoring now the software tracks activity, even lunch breaks cant be skipped. Its like being in an office, she replied.
Silence stretched. Charlotte seemed to be looking for a weak spot.
Please, just once, the last time! Ask someone to cover you or take a day off.
Emily had no choice. She pretended to concede.
Alright, Ill think of something.
She hung up and texted James, asking for his mothers number. James didnt refuse, and his mother agreed to pop over to Charlottes place.
Emily knew exactly when the mother arrived because of the barrage of messages.
Are you completely out of it? Charlotte wrote. Why did you involve her?
You needed help. I called her, Emily answered, trying to act casual. I cant be there myself, you know that.
Charlotte read the message but didnt reply. Emily felt a tiny, personal victory. Charlotte would continue to whine, mum would likely be disgruntled again, but now the sister would have to manage on her own or learn to seek help from those genuinely willing to assist.
Tonight, as I stare at the empty kitchen after Emily finally set the table for two, I realise that boundaries are a necessary part of love. Ive learned that saying no isnt selfishits protecting the little pocket of peace we both need. The lesson: you cannot pour from an empty cup, no matter how much the family expects you to be the everready bottle.
