«You’re in the way,» said her sister, hanging up the phone without another word.
«You’re in the way,» Emily said coldly into the receiver, and Lucy felt a chill run down her spine. «We want to live our own lives, understand?»
«Emmy, but I» Lucy began, but her sister cut her off.
«Dont call me that. Im forty-five. I have my own family, my own responsibilities. And youalways on the phone, complaining, needing something.»
«But were sisters!» Lucys voice trembled. «Weve always been there for each other.»
«Have we?» Emily scoffed. «Who was there for whom, really? When Mark and I were struggling, where were you? When Jake ended up in hospital, did you even visit?»
Lucy gripped the phone tighter. A lump formed in her throat.
«I was working then, you know that. And besides, I had my own»
«You, you, always you!» Emily snapped. «Its always somethingyour blood pressure, your nerves, the neighbours. But when someone else has a problem, suddenly youre too busy.»
Lucy sank onto the old sofa and shut her eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
«Em, why are you being like this? Were family.»
«We are. 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»
«Enough!» Emily cut in sharply. «Its been a year. Arent you done moping yet? Do you ever talk about anything else?»
Something inside Lucy shattered. Forty-two years of being more than sistersbest friends. Emily was three years younger but always the stronger one, the one Lucy ran to with every problem since they were girls.
«Em, please dont be angry. Ill call lessjust dont say things like that.»
«Dont call less. Dont call at all,» Emily said flatly. «I need space. We all do.»
«What do you mean, ‘we all’?»
«Marks tired of your calls too. The kids say Aunt Lucys always crying on the phone.»
That hurt the most. Jake and Lily, her niece and nephew, the ones she adored, bought gifts for, baked cakes for every birthday.
«The kids said that?»
«Yes. Jake asked me yesterday, ‘Mum, why is Aunt Lucy always sad? Did something happen to her?'»
Lucy bit her lip. She had cried during callsoften. But was that so wrong? Wasnt she allowed to be weak with the one person who knew her best?
«I never meant to upset them.»
«But you do. All of us. Were exhausted, Lucy. Exhausted by your depression, your endless problems, your refusal to pull yourself together.»
«But Im trying! I started 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 at night. Ive had enough!»
Silence. Lucy could hear music in the background, laughter. Life went on, while 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.»
«Lucy, dont twist this into drama. We just need space.»
«How much space? A week? A month? A year?»
Emily hesitated. «I dont know. Until you learn to handle things yourself.»
«And if I never do? If I always need my family?»
«Then find support elsewhere. Friends, maybe.»
Friends. The irony. After the divorce, her friends had drifted awayturns out they were more his friends than hers. And at forty-something, making new ones wasnt easy.
«I dont have friends, Em. Just you.»
«Then make some. Or see your therapist more. Youre paying for it.»
Anger twisted with pain. Did her sister really not understand?
«Therapists arent family.»
«And family arent your personal crying towels.»
Lucy hung up. Her hands shook. Shed never been the one to end a call before.
The phone rang immediatelyEmilys number flashing. Lucy stared, frozen. It stopped. Then a text: *Dont be upset. Im being honest. You need to stand on your own feet.*
She deleted it without replying.
The evening dragged. Normally, shed call Emily, talk about her day, discuss TV shows, weekend plans. Now, silence pressed in. She tried reading, but the words blurred. The telly droned, unheard. She went to bed early but lay awake, cycling between anger and shame.
The next morning, puffy-eyed and heavy-headed, colleagues asked if she was ill. She blamed bad sleep.
At lunch, she nearly dialed Emilys numberto vent about her bosss new task, a rude client. Then she remembered yesterday and put the phone away.
Work ended. On the bus home, she watched people rushing abouteach with their own lives, joys, problems. And her? An empty flat, the telly, and the crushing thought that no one needed her.
Dinner prep was meant to distract. She pulled out ingredients, turned on music. But halfway through, it hit hershe was cooking for one. No one to say, *This tastes lovely.*
Tears threatened again.
The phone stayed silent. Emily didnt call.
Next day, Lucy tried calling. Maybe Emily had cooled off. She hesitated, dialed, hung up. Finally, she pressed call.
Ringing. Endless ringing. Then voicemail. *»Hi, its Em. Leave a message.»*
She hung up. Tried again an hour later. Voicemail. Two hours latersame.
By evening, it was clear. Emily was ignoring her.
She texted: *Em, lets talk. I dont want to fight.*
No reply.
Next day, she called from workmaybe Emily wouldnt recognise the number. But the moment Lucy said, «Hello?» the line went dead. Emily knew her voice.
It hurt. Badly.
She tried Mark next. Maybe hed explain, help fix things. He didnt pick up either.
A week passed. Then two. Every day, Lucy checked her phoneno missed calls, no texts.
She threw herself into self-improvementsigned up for French classes, joined a gym, bought new clothes. But joy was missing. She wanted to share her little wins.
Learned ten new wordsno one to tell. Lost three poundsno one to celebrate with. Got a work bonusno one to toast with.
Lucy realised Emily hadnt just been her sistershed been her whole world. Every event, every feeling, every plan revolved around them. Now, without that, there was just emptiness.
Maybe Emily was right. Maybe she had been too dependent. But was it wrong to be close to family?
A month later, she bumped into Lily at the shops. Her niecenow fourteen, nearly grownlit up.
«Aunt Lucy! Hi!»
«Lily, sweetheart.» Lucy hugged her tight. «Hows school?»
«Fine. Why dont you visit anymore? Mum said you two had a fight.»
Lucys heart squeezed.
«What exactly did she say?»
Lily hesitated. «Just… that you were really upset about Uncle Paul. That you needed time.»
So that was Emilys versionthat Lucy chose distance, not the other way around.
«Do you miss me, Lil?»
«Course! Youre the best aunt. And I miss your pancakes.»
Tears threatened again.
«I miss you too. And Jake.»
«Aunt Lucy, Ill tell Mum I saw you. Maybe shell call?»
«No, sweetheart. Shell call when shes ready.»
Lily nodded, though she clearly didnt get adult problems. «Well, dont be sad, okay? And call me if you want. Ive got my own phone now.»
Lucy saved the numbera tiny thread still tying her to Emilys family.
After that, she made a decision. If Emily thought she was too dependent, shed prove otherwise. Shed show she could live fully without leaning on anyone.
She chatted with Mrs. Thompson next dooronce just the nosy widow, now a lonely woman craving company. At work, she joined colleagues for drinks, made friends in other departments. They invited her to plays, exhibitions.
Life improved. But Emilys absence still ached.
Two months after the fight, Lucy took a risk. She went to Emilys house. Stood outside, watching their lit windows. Emily, Mark, the kidshaving dinner, chatting, living.
While she stood there, a stranger.
She buzzed the intercom.
«Yeah?» Marks voice.
«Mark, its Lucy. Can I come up?»
A pause.
«Nows not great»
«Please. Just five minutes with Em.»
«She doesnt want to talk.»
«Mark, please. Im not a stranger. Im her sister.»
Another pause. Muffled voices debating.
«Fine. But make it quick.»
Lucy climbed the familiar stairs, heart hammering. How many times had she run up them with birthday cakes, Christmas presents, just to visit?
Mark opened the door, awkward, avoiding eye contact.
«Come in.»
She hung her coat and walked into the lounge. Emily sat on the sofa, arms crossed, face unreadable.
«What do you want?»
«To talk. To explain.»
«I thought we already did.»
Lucy sat opposite her. Mark hovered by the door, uncomfortable.
«Em, you were right. I was too dependent. I complained too much, asked too much.»
Emilys expression softened slightly, but she stayed guarded.
«And now?»
«Now Ive changed. Ive got new friends, new hobbies. Im handling things myself.»
«Thats good,» Emily nodded. «Im glad.»
«But I still miss you. Not as a crutchas my sister. My closest person.»
Emily looked down.
«Lucy, I miss you too. But Im scared itll go back to how it was.»
«It wont. I promise. No daily calls, no dumping my problems. Lets just be sisters again.»
A long silence. Then Emily sighed.
«Alright. Well try.»
Relief washed over Lucy.
«Thank you, Emmy.»
«Just… not Emmy,» Emily said sternlybut her eyes smiled.
They hugged, tight and real. And Lucy understoodfamily isnt just about leaning on each other. Its also about giving each other room to grow.
Sometimes, you have to nearly lose someone to learn how to love them right.
