Its all your friends fault, the exhusband spat, his voice echoing across the sleek marble of the Westfield food court.
Hold onstop, stop, stopI dont get a thing youre saying, Emily snapped, eyes darting, heart hammering.
Exactly, you dont understand! You play the innocent, the helpful, the clueless saint, he snarled. You think Ill just turn a blind eye?
Sometimes life feels perfect: a decent salary, a loving family, a solid circle of friends, and even a boyfriend who actually cares. Then, without warning, a tiny, almost invisible grain of sand slips into the glasssmooth surface of happiness, and the longer it sits, the more it grates, gnawing at your nerves until you just want to fling it far awayaway from the awful colour, the taste the voice.
For Emily, that grain was a person, someone uncomfortably close.
Claire had been by her side since nursery. It seemed everything had always been fineuntil university ended, and the two women stepped into adulthood. Suddenly Claire was replaced. Perhaps their social circles had diverged, perhaps Claires life had stalled while Emilys surged, sparking a bitter envy that found its way out through a strange, poisonous route.
For the first few yearsmaybe fiveEmily brushed it off, but then the water began to wear down the stone.
Emily, that dress isnt right for a postbaby body, Claire said, waving a sleek sheath. You could buy it, but youll need to get yourself in shape firstby the time its back in fashion, itll have gone out of style a hundred times. Better take that little suit we looked at earlier
Emily stepped out of the fitting room, her cheeks flushing as Claires words boiled inside her.
Listen, can you stop slinging mud at me? she snapped.
Mud? What mud? Claire flared, eyes narrowing.
Those not right for a postbaby body comments, you need to get yourself together what are you, the fashion police?
Come on, Emily, you invited me to help you pick out something. Im being honest. If you just wanted me to say yes, it looks great, take it, you should have said that from the start.
What are you saying? That I shouldnt bother people with my toxicity? That I need to stay within some boring normality?
Stop, stop, stopIm not following you at all.
Emilys patience snapped. Dont think Ill stay a naïve little lamb for you to dump all your negativity on. Im done. From now on, you can stop calling me.
She snatched the dress she liked and bolted past Claire, who stood frozen like a statue. The onlookers in the centre barely noticed the tension; Claire cared more about the sting of the betrayal than the fact that strangers were watching. She lingered a moment, weighing her thoughts, then, with a dismissive huff, headed for the exit.
Emily never called Claire again, nor tried to mend the rift, because she finally understood where the sudden loathing had sprouted. Whether Claires words would ever reach her was irrelevant; the damage was done.
Emily carried on living the life she chose, free from snide remarks about helping relatives, about her husbands involvement at home, and especially about her daughter Lucys nursery.
When her motherinlaw heard of the fight, she sighed and muttered that eventually everyone must shed the parasites clinging to their throats. Emilys own mother echoed the sentiment. Then the oddities began.
At Lucys nursery, a new caregiver, echoing Claires tone, warned that Lucy showed signs of a troubling behavioural issue, suggesting a private neurologist and psychiatrist to catch any problem early.
Honestly, they just want to put a label on the child, Emilys motherinlaw grumbled at home, remembering Claires earlier offhand comment about taking Lucy to a specialist.
But Emily, wanting to quiet her conscience, agreed to the appointments. The doctor said, Its good you brought her in early; we can intervene before it becomes serious. That line resurfaced in Emilys mind, recalling how Claire, half a year earlier, had offhandedly mentioned a neurologist for Lucy. At the time Emily dismissed Claire as toxic and bad, but the words now rang true.
Soon, both mother and grandmother began to make their own moves. Claire told Emily that the grandmothers didnt really need a granddaughter; they wanted her wallet. As soon as extra expenses for Lucy appeared, the grandmothers vanished one by one, offering only halfhearted excuses when Emily asked for help with babysitting.
Then Emilys husband dropped the bomb: he was filing for divorce.
Understand, Emily, I promised to stand by you in good times and bad, but Lucys diagnoses and the constant chaos leave me with no time for the rest of the family. I cant live like this.
In a few months the oncehappy family cracked and fell apart. Emily took Lucy and moved into a flat she inherited from her grandmother. That meant another clash with her own mother, who complained that the flat would now be crowded whenever relatives visited.
Emily, you know itll be uncomfortable if you move in there! Family should support each other in hard times, and yet you
Emily heard it all before. Only Claire, observing from the sidelines, seemed to see that the help Emily received was onesided, that she hadnt truly let go of the toxic comments but was trying, within her limits, to open Emilys eyes to the truth of her familys dysfunction.
Now, as if nothing had changed, her mother resumed her old melodrama, after repeatedly refusing to help Emily during her darkest hours. She fretted not about where Lucy and her own mother would live, but about where to put visiting relatives so they wouldnt stain the floor with inconvenience.
Claire was right about everything; Emily, on the other hand, felt foolish.
Finally, after setting up the flat, Emily gathered flowers, a bottle of champagne, and a box of chocolates, hoping the gifts wouldnt be thrown back at her doorstep. She knocked on Claires door, heart thudding.
Claire, please, just hear me out, dont shut me out right away, Emily blurted as the door creaked open.
Come in, tell me everything, Claire sighed, stepping aside to let Emily and her gentlemans kit in.
Tears streamed, apologies were shouted, promises were made that they would never again suspect each other of such betrayals. Emily finally grasped who truly wished her well and who only thought of themselves, fleeing at the first sign of trouble.
The friends reconciled, though Claire warned Emily that history would not repeat itself, and Emily swore shed never let it.
The exhusband later tried to patch things up, but Emily flatly refused to rebuild what he had smashed.
Its all your friends doing! She turned you against your own family, the exhusband declared.
The same accusation reverberated from her mother and even the former motherinlaw, oblivious that the only thing theyd sewn themselves was a cradle of their own making, and Claire had nothing to do with it.
