**Diary Entry**
Three years, Eleanor Victoriathree years youve been pushing me to give you a grandchild, scolding me for taking too long. And now? You parade Paul right in front of everyone, your daughters son, while my Alexyour own grandsonmight as well be invisible. Have you forgotten he exists?
Eleanor adjusted her perfectly coiffed hair and gave me that icy, superior look of hers. Behind her, laughter and music spilled from the living room, where Pauls birthday party was still in full swing.
When you ignore him, when you dont give him the same giftshe *notices*, I said, my voice tight. Hes ten now. Old enough to know you dont love him.
She scoffed, waving me off like a bothersome fly.
Youre imagining things, Marina. I treat both boys the same. And really, must you make a scene *today*? Its my grandsons birthday. I havent time for your dramatics.
With that, she turned on her heels and swept back to her guests, leaving me in the hallway. Hurt knotted in my throat. To her, my son was nothingjust glass she looked right through.
I steadied myself and returned to the party, only to see the same unbearable sight: Eleanor fawning over Paul, cooing, petting his hair, pressing sweets into his hands. And there in the corner stood Alex, shoulders slumped, eyes shadowed with envy. My heart ached to grab him and run.
That evening, once Alex was asleep, I sat beside Victor on the sofa.
We need to talk about your mother, I said. What shes doing to Alexits cruel. He *knows*. And its breaking him.
Victor rubbed his foreheadhis tell when he didnt want to face something.
Youre overthinking it, love, he muttered. I was the least favourite too, remember? My sister always came first. Hell cope. Hes a lad. And she *does* love himjust differently.
I stared at him. How could he say that so easily? As if our son should just *accept* being cast aside?
—
A week later, Eleanor dropped by unannounced. Alex was at the kitchen table doing homework when the doorbell rang. He brightened for a secondthen stiffened, wary.
Alex, darling, I brought you a treat! she trilled, handing him a handful of cheap sweets. Not like the fancy chocolates she always bought for Paul.
Thanks, Gran, he mumbled, taking them before excusing himself.
Eleanor turned to me, triumphant.
See? I *treat them equally*. All this nonsense about favourites.
I tried one last time, desperate to make her see.
Alex won a maths competition, I said, pouring tea. His teacher says hes brilliant.
Hmm, good, she murmured, then perked up. Paul won his swimming race last week! First in the borough! His coach says he could go pro
I clenched my jaw as she droned on, praising Paul while brushing off every word about Alex.
and just *yesterday*, Paul fixed his own bike! At *eight*! Such clever hands
I slammed my palm on the table.
*Why*? My voice shook. You *begged* us for a grandson. You *rushed* us! And now you treat him like this?
Eleanors face twisted, as if shed bitten into something sour.
I wanted a *real* grandchild, she finally spat. But Alexhes just *you*. Your copy. Your *mirror*. Its unbearable.
I froze.
You *dont love him* because he looks like me?
She nodded, as if it were obvious.
I never approved of Victors choice. But I thoughtfine, at least youd give me a strong grandson. But *him*? She flicked her wrist dismissively. Every gesture, every *breath*its *you*. Ghastly.
I stood so fast the chair toppled.
Are you *mad*? Get out. *Now*.
*Excuse me*? This is my sons flat!
Its *our home*, I snapped. And I wont let you poison my child any longer. *Leave!*
I wrenched the door open. Purple with rage, she snatched her bag and stormed past me.
Youll regret this! she hissed before slamming the door.
I leaned against the wall, trembling.
—
When Victor came home, I told him everything. His face darkened with every word.
She actually *said* that? he whispered. That she doesnt love him because hes like you?
I nodded, tears spilling.
Victor pulled me close.
No more, he said firmly. Were done with her unless absolutely necessary. Alex comes first.
—
Months passed. Life settled. Then my parents moved to town, selling their house in the countryside for a place nearby.
We missed you both, MumValeriesaid simply.
They adored Alex, showering him with love hed never had from Eleanor. And I watched him *bloom*his smile returning, his shoulders straightening.
On his birthday, I invited Eleanorone last chance.
She arrived with a flimsy box. Inside, a plastic toy carthe kind sold in tube stations.
Thanks, Gran, Alex said politely before turning eagerly to my parents. Grandma Val, Grandad Stevecan I open yours now?
They handed him a large box. His eyes lit upa graphic tablet, exactly what hed wanted.
Oh, *thank you*! He threw his arms around them. This is perfect!
Eleanor sniffed.
Thats far too extravagant. Youll spoil him.
Mum smiled coolly.
He wants to be a graphic designer. Hes *talented*. This will help.
Alex beamed.
Dad, help me set it up! he cried, dragging Victor off.
Left alone with Eleanor, I folded my arms.
Something wrong?
She stiffened.
Paul won
If youre about to talk about *Paul*, I cut in, you can leave. *Now.*
Her face twisted.
But Paul is *clearly* better! Stronger, brighter
I strode to the door and flung it open.
I warned you. *Go.*
You cant
I *can*. This is *my* home, and my sons *birthday*. I all but shoved her out. Goodbye.
The door clicked shut.
From Alexs room, laughter bubbled outbright, unburdened.
I smiled and went to join them.
