«You’re in the way,» said her sister, and she stopped answering the phone.
«You’re in the way,» said Olivia into the receiver, and Emma felt a chill run down her spine. «We want to live our own lives, understand?»
«Liv, but I» Emma began, but her sister cut her off.
«Don’t ‘Liv’ me. I’m forty-five, with my own family, my own life. And youre always on the phone, complaining, asking for one thing or another.»
«But we’re sisters!» Emmas voice trembled. «Weve always helped each other.»
«Helped?» Olivia scoffed. «Who helped whom, I wonder? Where were you when I had problems with Edward? When Alex ended up in hospital, did you ever visit?»
Emma gripped the phone tighter. A lump rose in her throat.
«I was working thenyou know that. And besides, I had my own»
«You, you, you!» Olivia snapped. «Its always about you. Your headaches, your nerves, your terrible neighbours. But when others have problems, youre too busy.»
Emma sank onto the old sofa and closed her eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
«Liv, why are you doing this? Were family.»
«Family, yes. But that doesnt mean I have to listen to your complaints every day. Ive got enough on my plate.»
«Fine, I know I can be… clingy sometimes. But Im really struggling right now. After the divorce, I»
«Enough!» Olivia cut in sharply. «Its been a year, and youre still going on about it. Dont you have anything else to talk about besides your misery?»
Emma felt something inside her shatter. Forty-two years, and theyd been more than sisterstheyd been best friends. Olivia was three years younger but always seemed stronger, more decisive. Emma had run to her with every problem since childhood.
«Liv, please dont be angry. Ill call less, just dont say things like that.»
«Not less. Never,» Olivia said coldly. «I need space. We all do.»
«What do you mean, ‘we all’?»
«Edwards tired of your calls too. The kids complain that Aunt Emma is always crying down the phone.»
That hurt the most. Alex and Sophie, her beloved niece and nephewthe ones she spoiled with gifts, whose birthdays she never missed, bringing homemade cakes.
«The kids said that?»
«Yes. Alex asked yesterday, ‘Mum, why is Aunt Emma always sad? Did something happen?'»
Emma bit her lip. She *had* cried often during calls. But wasnt it okay to be vulnerable with family?
«I never meant to upset them.»
«But you did. And not just them. Were all exhausted, Emma. Exhausted by your depression, your endless problems, your refusal to pull yourself together.»
«But Im trying! I got a new job, Im seeing a therapist»
«And you tell me about it every day. How hard work is, how expensive therapy is, how lonely you feel. Emma, Ive had enough!»
Silence hung between them. In the background, Emma heard music and laughter. Life went onwhile she sat alone in her one-bed flat, fighting back sobs.
«Alright,» she whispered. «I understand.»
«What do you understand?»
«That Im in your way. That Im a terrible sister. That youre all sick of me.»
«Emma, stop being dramatic. We just need space.»
«How much space? A week? A month? A year?»
Olivia hesitated. «I dont know. Until you learn to handle things yourself.»
«And if I never do? If Ill always need my family?»
«Then find support somewhere else. With friends, maybe.»
Friends. The irony. After the divorce, her friends had vanishedturns out theyd been *couple* friends. And making new ones in her forties wasnt easy.
«I dont have friends, Liv. Only you.»
«Then make some. Or see your therapist more. Youre paying for it.»
Anger and pain twisted inside her. Did her sister really not understand?
«A therapist isnt family.»
«And family isnt your personal crying pillow.»
Emma hung up. Her hands shook, her heart raced. Shed never been the one to end a call before.
The phone rang immediatelyOlivias number flashed on the screen. Emma stared, too afraid to answer. It stopped. Then a text arrived: *Dont take it personally. Im being honest. You need to stand on your own feet.*
Emma deleted it without replying.
The evening dragged. Normally, shed call Olivia, share her day. Theyd chat about TV, news, weekend plans. Now, the silence was suffocating.
She tried reading, but the words blurred. The TV was just noise. She went to bed early but couldnt sleep, tossing between anger, shame, and despair.
The next morning, puffy-eyed and heavy-headed, she went to work. Colleagues asked if she was okay; she blamed bad sleep.
At lunch, she nearly dialled Olivia. She wanted to vent about her bosss new task, the rude client. But she remembered yesterday and put the phone away.
After work, on the bus, she watched strangers rushing by. Everyone had their own lives, joys, struggles. And her? An empty flat, a TV, and the crushing thought that no one needed her.
At home, she cookedmaybe it would distract her. She pulled out ingredients, turned on music. But halfway through, she realised: she was cooking for one. No one to share it with.
Tears threatened again.
The phone stayed silent. Olivia didnt call.
The next day, Emma tried calling. Maybe Olivia had cooled off. She hesitated, dialling and hanging up twice before finally committing.
Ringing. Endless ringing. Then voicemail: *»Hi, its Liv. Leave a message.»*
She hung up. Maybe Olivia was busy. She tried again an hour latervoicemail. And two hours after that.
By evening, it was clear: Olivia was ignoring her.
Emma texted: *Liv, lets talk. I dont want to fight.*
No reply.
The next day, she called from work. Maybe Olivia wouldnt recognise the number. But the moment Emma said, «Hello?»the line went dead. Olivia had hung up.
It stung. Badly.
Emma tried Edward, Olivias husband. Maybe hed explain, help mend things. But Edward didnt answer either.
A week passed. Then another. Every day, Emma checked her phone, hoping for a missed call or text. Nothing.
She threw herself into self-improvementsigned up for French classes, joined a gym, bought new clothes. But none of it brought joy. She had no one to share her small victories with.
*Learned ten new wordsno one to tell. Lost three poundsno one to celebrate with. Got a bonus at workno one to toast with.*
Emma realised Olivia hadnt just been her sistershed been the centre of her world. Now, without her, everything felt hollow.
*Was Olivia right? Was I too dependent?* But was it wrong to lean on family?
A month later, Emma bumped into Sophie, her niece. At fourteen, shed grown taller, more grown-up.
«Aunt Emma!» Sophie beamed. «Hi!»
«Sophie, darling!» Emma hugged her. «Hows school?»
«Fine. Why dont you visit anymore? Mum said you two had a fight.»
Emmas heart clenched.
«What exactly did she say?»
Sophie hesitated. «That you were really upset about Uncle James. That you needed time.»
So that was Olivias storythat *Emma* had chosen distance.
«Sophie, do you miss me?»
«Of course! Youre the best aunt. And I love your pancakes.»
Tears threatened again.
«I miss you too. And Alex.»
«Aunt Emma, should I tell Mum I saw you? Maybe shell call?»
«No, sweetheart. Shell reach out when shes ready.»
Sophie nodded, though she clearly didnt understand adult problems.
«Okay. But dont be sad, alright? And call me if you need to. Ive got my own phone now.»
Emma saved the numbera tiny thread still connecting her to Olivias family.
After that, Emma made a decision. If Olivia thought she was too dependent, shed prove otherwise. Shed show she could live fully without leaning on her.
She befriended her neighbour, Margareta widow shed once dismissed as nosy. Turns out, Margaret was just lonely.
At work, she joined colleagues for drinks, something shed always skipped. She met women from other departments, accepted invites to the theatre, exhibitions.
Life improved. But she still missed Olivia.
Two months after the fight, Emma took a risk. She went to Olivias house. Stood outside, watching lit windowsOlivia, Edward, the kids. They were having dinner, chatting, living.
And she was outside, a stranger.
She pressed the intercom.
«Yeah?» Edwards voice.
«Edward, its Emma. Can I come up?»
A pause.
«Emma, nows not a good time»
«Please. I just need five minutes with Liv.»
«She doesnt want to talk.»
«Edward, please. Im not a stranger. Im her sister.»
Another pause. Muffled voices.
«Fine. Come up. But make it quick.»
Emma climbed the familiar stairs, heart pounding. How many times had she run up these stepswith birthday cakes, Christmas presents, just to visit?
Edward opened the door, avoiding eye contact.
«Come in,» he muttered.
Emma hung her coat and entered the living room. Olivia sat on the sofa, arms crossed. Her expression was ice.
«What do you want?»
«To talk. To explain.»
«I thought wed settled this.»
Emma sat opposite her. Edward lingered awkwardly by the door.
«Liv, you were right. I *was* too dependent. I complained too much, asked too much.»
Olivias stance softened slightly, but she stayed guarded.
«And now?»
«Now Ive changed. Ive made new friends, found new interests. Im handling things myself.»
«Thats good,» Olivia nodded. «Im happy for you.»
«But I still miss you. Not as a crutchas my sister. My closest person.»
Olivia looked down.
«Emma, I miss you too. But Im scared things will go back to how they were.»
«They wont. I promise. No daily calls, no dumping my problems. Lets just be sisters again.»
Olivia was silent, weighing it.
«And if you start crying down the phone again?»
«Then you can tell me. And Ill understand.»
Olivia sighed, putting the cushion aside.
«Alright. Well try.»
The weight lifted.
«Thank you, Liv.»
«Just dont ‘Liv’ me,» Olivia said sternlybut her eyes smiled.
They huggedtight, real. And Emma realised family isnt just about leaning on each other. Its also about giving space to grow.
Sometimes, you almost lose the ones you love most to learn how to love them right.
