«You’re getting in the way,» said her sister, and she stopped answering the phone.
«You’re getting in the way,» Elizabeth said sharply, and Emily felt a cold shiver run down her spine. «We want to live our own lives, do you understand?»
«Lizzie, but I» Emily began, but her sister cut her off.
«Don’t ‘Lizzie’ me. I’m forty-five, I have my own family, my own responsibilities. And youalways on the phone, complaining, asking for one thing after another.»
«But we’re sisters!» Emily’s voice trembled. «We’ve always helped each other.»
«Helped?» Elizabeth scoffed. «Who helped whom, I wonder? When did you ever help me? When John and I were having trouble, where were you? When little Thomas ended up in hospital, did you even visit once?»
Emily gripped the receiver tighter. A lump rose in her throat.
«I was working then, you know that. And besides, I had my own»
«It’s always about you!» Elizabeth snapped. «Always somethingyour blood pressure, your nerves, the neighbours bothering you. But when other people have problems, suddenly you’re too busy.»
Emily sank onto the old sofa and closed her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
«Liz, why are you being like this? We’re family.»
«Yes, family. But that doesnt mean I have to listen to your complaints every single day. I have enough on my plate.»
«Fine, I know I can be… a bit much sometimes. But right now, I really am struggling. After the divorce»
«Enough!» Elizabeth cut in sharply. «You divorced over a year ago, and youre still carrying on. Is there nothing else to talk about besides your misery?»
Something inside Emily cracked. For forty-two years, they hadnt just been sisterstheyd been best friends. Elizabeth was three years younger, but shed always seemed stronger, more decisive. Emily had run to her with every problem since they were children.
«Liz, please dont be angry. Ill call less, just dont say things like that.»
«Dont call less. Dont call at all,» Elizabeth said coldly. «I need time to think. We all do.»
«What do you mean, ‘we all’?»
«Johns tired of your calls too. The children say Aunt Emily is always crying down the phone.»
Those words stung the most. Thomas and little Sophiethe nieces and nephews she adored, the ones shed bought presents for every birthday, the ones shed visited with homemade cakes.
«The children said that?»
«Yes. Thomas asked me yesterday, ‘Mum, why is Aunt Emily always sad? Did something happen to her?'»
Emily bit her lip. She had cried often during calls with her sister. But was that so wrong? Wasnt she allowed to be weak with the person she trusted most?
«I never meant to upset them.»
«But you do. And not just them. Were all tired, Emily. Tired of your depression, your endless problems, the way you refuse to pull yourself together.»
«But I’m trying! I got a new job, I started seeing a therapist»
«And you tell me about it every day. How hard work is, how expensive the therapist is, how lonely you feel in the evenings. Emily, Ive had enough!»
Silence hung between them. In the background, Emily could hear music playing at Elizabeths house, laughter. Life went on, while she sat alone in her tiny flat, fighting back sobs.
«All right,» she whispered. «I understand.»
«What do you understand?»
«That Im in your way. That Im a terrible sister. That youre tired of me.»
«Emily, stop being dramatic. We just need space.»
«How much space? A week? A month? A year?»
Elizabeth hesitated.
«I dont know. Until you learn to handle your own problems.»
«And if I never learn? If I always need my family?»
«Then find that somewhere else. With friends, maybe.»
Friends. What a joke. After the divorce, her friends had quietly disappeared. Turned out theyd been friends with the couple, not just her. And at her age, making new ones wasnt easy.
«I dont have friends, Liz. I only have you.»
«Then its time to make some. Or go to your therapist more often. Youre paying for it, after all.»
Anger twisted with the ache in Emilys chest. How could her sister not understand?
«A therapist isnt family.»
«And family isnt your personal crying pillow.»
Emily hung up before she could hear another word. Her hands shook, her pulse raced. She had never ended a call with Elizabeth before.
The phone rang immediatelyElizabeths number flashing on the screen. Emily stared at it, unable to answer. The ringing stopped. Then a message: «Dont be upset. Im telling you the truth. You need to learn to stand on your own feet.»
Emily deleted it without replying.
The evening stretched on endlessly. Normally, shed call Elizabeth then, tell her about her day. Theyd discuss TV shows, news, weekend plans. Now, the flat was oppressively silent.
She tried reading, but the words blurred. She turned on the telly, but none of it registered. She went to bed early, but sleep wouldnt come. Her thoughts spiralledresentment, shame, anger, despair.
By morning, her eyes were swollen, her head heavy. At work, colleagues asked if she was all right. She blamed a poor nights sleep.
At lunch, she nearly dialled Elizabeths number. She wanted to talk about her new assignment, complain about a rude client. Then she remembered yesterdays words and put the phone away.
The workday ended. On the bus home, Emily watched strangers hurry about their liveseach with their own joys and struggles. And what did she have? An empty flat. A telly. The crushing thought that no one needed her.
At home, she decided to cook something nice. Maybe that would lift her spirits. She gathered ingredients, put on music. But halfway through, she realisedshe was cooking for one. Eating alone. No one to tell how well it turned out.
Tears threatened again.
The phone stayed silent. Elizabeth didnt call.
The next day, Emily tried calling her. Maybe shed cooled off. Maybe they could talk properly. She held the phone for ages, dialling and hanging up before finally committing.
Ringing. Endless ringing. Then voicemail.
«Hi, this is Liz. Leave a message.»
Emily hung up without speaking. Maybe Elizabeth was busy. She tried again an hour later. Voicemail. Two hours laterthe same.
By evening, the truth was clearElizabeth was ignoring her.
Emily sent a text: «Liz, lets talk. I dont want us to fight.»
No reply.
The next day, she called from her work phone. Maybe Elizabeth wouldnt recognise the number. But the moment Emily said «Hello?», the line went dead. Elizabeth had known her voice.
It hurt. Badly.
She tried John next. Maybe he could explain, help mend things. But he didnt answer either.
A week passed. Then another. Every day, Emily checked her phone, hoping for a missed call, a message. Nothing.
She threw herself into self-improvement. Enrolled in 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 a few poundsno one to celebrate with. Got a bonus at workno one to toast with.
Emily realised Elizabeth hadnt just been her sistershed been the centre of her world. Every event, every emotion, every plan had revolved around their bond. Now, with that gone, there was only emptiness.
Maybe Elizabeth had been right. Maybe she had depended too much on her. But was it so wrong to be close to family?
A month later, Emily ran into Sophie on the street. At fourteen, her niece had shot up, nearly grown.
«Aunt Emily!» Sophie beamed. «Hi!»
«Sweetheart!» Emily hugged her tight. «How are you? Hows school?»
«Fine. Why dont you visit anymore? Mum said you two had a fight.»
Emilys heart clenched.
«What exactly did she say?»
Sophie hesitated.
«Well… that you were really upset about Uncle David. That you needed time.»
So that was Elizabeths version. That Emily had chosen to cut contactnot the other way around.
«Sophie, do you miss me?»
«Of course! Youre the best aunt. And I miss your pancakes.»
Tears pricked Emilys eyes again.
«I miss you too. And Thomas.»
«Aunt Emily, should I tell Mum I saw you? Maybe shell call?»
«No, sweetheart. Shell call when shes ready.»
Sophie nodded, though it was clear she didnt quite understand grown-up troubles.
«Okay. But dont be sad, all right? And call me if you want. Ive got my own mobile now.»
Sophie recited her number, and Emily saved it. At least this tiny thread to Elizabeths family remained.
After that, Emily made a decision. If Elizabeth thought she was too dependent, shed prove otherwise. Shed show she could live a full life without leaning on her sister.
She reached out. Chatting with Mrs. Wilkins next doorwhod once seemed just a nosy old woman but turned out to be lonely too. At work, she joined colleagues for drinks, made friends in other departments. They invited her to the theatre, to exhibitions.
Slowly, life improved. But Elizabeths absence still ached.
Two months after the fight, Emily took a desperate step. She went to Elizabeths house. Stood outside, watching the lit windows. Inside was her familyElizabeth, John, the children. Having dinner, watching telly, sharing their day.
And there she was, outside like a stranger.
Emily buzzed the intercom.
«Yes?» Johns voice crackled through.
«John, its Emily. Can I come up?»
A long pause.
«Emily, nows not a good time»
«Please. I just need five minutes with Liz.»
«She doesnt want to talk.»
«John, please. Im not some enemy. Im her sister.»
Another pause. Muffled voices arguing.
«Fine. Come up. But make it quick.»
Emily climbed the familiar stairs, heart pounding. How many times had she run up these steps? With birthday cakes, Christmas presents, just to visit.
John opened the door, awkward, avoiding her eyes.
«Come in,» he muttered.
Emily hung up her coat and walked into the living room. Elizabeth sat on the sofa, clutching a cushion. Her face was stone.
«What do you want?» she asked coldly.
«To talk. To make things right.»
«I thought we already had.»
Emily sat opposite her. John lingered in the doorway, uncomfortable.
«Liz, you were right. I did depend on you too much. I complained too often, asked too much, didnt listen enough.»
Elizabeths expression softened slightly, but she stayed guarded.
«And?»
«And Ive changed. Ive made new friends, taken up new things. Im handling my problems myself now.»
«Thats good,» Elizabeth nodded. «Im happy for you.»
«But I still miss you. Not as a shoulder to cry onas my sister. As my best friend.»
Elizabeth looked down.
«Emily, I miss you too. But Im scared itll just go back to how it was.»
«It wont. I promise. I wont call every day, I wont dump my troubles on you. Lets just talk. Like we used to. Like sisters.»
Elizabeth was silent, weighing it.
«And if you start crying down the phone again?»
«Then you can tell me. And Ill understand.»
Elizabeth sighed and set the cushion aside.
«All right. Well try.»
The weight on Emilys shoulders lifted.
«Thank you, Lizzie.»
«Just not ‘Lizzie’,» Elizabeth said sternlybut there was a flicker of a smile in her eyes.
They huggedtight, real. And Emily understood then that family wasnt just about support in hard times. It was also about giving each other room to grow.
Sometimes, you had to almost lose the person closest to you to learn how to love them properly.
