**The Teenage Years**
Because they had such different views on raising their child, Diana and James divorced. Each blamed the other in their own way.
*»James never took responsibility for anything, so I had to handle every problem since the day Oliver was born,»* Diana would explain.
*»My ex-wife never knew how to relax. She had to control everything, always fussing over unnecessary thingsno wonder she was miserable all the time,»* her former husband would say.
Oliver is fourteen now, living with his mother, seeing his dad once a weekweekends and sometimes after football practice. Though Diana and James split nearly eleven years ago, neither remarried. James lives alone in his late mothers flat; she passed away seven years ago after a long illness.
When Oliver spent weekends with his dadespecially recentlyDiana would finally catch her breath. But it wasnt restful. She still worried, convinced James could never be called responsible.
*»Joking around, having funthats his thing. But building a serious relationship? Impossible. Life was fine when it was just us, but having Oliver changed everything.»*
With a baby, James barely helped. No care, no chores. Diana embraced motherhood instantly, while James never really felt like a father. Resentment grew until they separated.
James saw it differently.
*»We just didnt understand each other. I always imagined how amazing fatherhood would beshowing my child the world. But Diana turned it into a minefield of rules and paranoia. She was terrified of germs, of risks. Eventually, I stopped trying to help because nothing I did was ever good enough.»*
*»James, we should divorce,»* Diana said one day. To his own surprise, he felt relieved.
They parted calmly, agreeing James would still see Oliver. *»Whats the point arguing with someone who never listens?»* he thought.
Eleven years later, James never remarriedonce was enough. Professionally, though, he thrivedironically, thanks to his love of fun. He designs video games, earning well.
After dinner, Diana tidied the kitchen and headed to Olivers room. *»Left the bathroom light on again. Just like his father.»* Ignoring the *»Do Not Enter»* sign, she pushed the door open.
Oliver was glued to his computer screen, not even glancing up.
*»Oliver, switching off a light isnt hard. Youre not a child anymore.»*
*»Yeah, yeah,»* he muttered.
*»Half an hour more, then homework. You have a test tomorrow.»*
When she checked later, he hadnt moved. *»Off the game. Now.»* Oliver rolled his eyes but grabbed his history textbook.
As she peeled potatoes for tomorrows soup, Diana sighed. *»How much longer will this teenage phase last? A year ago, he was still manageable. But now? If this keeps up, Ill lose my mind.»*
On Saturday, James arrived to pick Oliver up. *»Finally!»* Oliver grinned, darting out.
*»Got your books?»* Diana asked sharply.
*»Oh my God, Mum, not this again,»* he groaned, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as they left.
*»James, help him with mathshis test is coming up. And dont just feed him pizza!»* The door slammed.
In the car, father and son exchanged a look. *»So, whats the plan?»* James asked.
*»Cinema, then the park. And firstpizza!»* They burst out laughing.
Now that Oliver was older, James had found a way to connect. Friendship didnt happen by itselfit took shared time, easy conversations, no lectures.
*»Hows school?»*
*»Fine, Dad. Ive got it.»*
*»I know you do. But if youre stuck, just say.»*
*»Its fine. Just my history teacher hates me for no reason. PEs the best, though.»*
As they drove off, Diana thought, *»Of course hes happy. James only stepped up when Oliver got easier. The hard parthomework, discipline, cookingthats all me. And now Oliver adores him.»*
*»Great weekend. See you soon,»* James said, dropping Oliver home Sunday evening.
*»Dad, that was awesome!»* Oliver beamed.
After the weekend, Diana attended parents evening, dreading it. The teacher slid Olivers report across the tablemostly threes and twos, except for PE.
*»Hes bright but lazy. And he games in class.»*
Furious, Diana stormed home. *»No more laptop until he fixes this. But how? The years nearly over.»*
She marched into Olivers room, snapped his laptop shut, and carried it out. *»No games until summer. Fix your grades. Have you no shame?»*
*»Mum, relax. You always overreact,»* Oliver mutteredwords straight from his father.
Diana ranted until the front door slammedOliver had bolted. She grabbed her phone. *»James, hes run offprobably to you!»*
*»Calm down. Well sort it.»*
*»Dad, I want to live with you,»* Oliver said when James opened the door.
*»Me too, mate. But your mum wont agreenot yet.»*
*»Please dont make me go back.»*
James drove to Dianas, expecting a fightbut she barely resisted. Quiet, defeated, she relented.
The next morning, James shook Oliver awake. *»Up, mate. Breakfast, then school.»* Minutes later, Oliver was still asleep.
They rushed out, sandwiches in hand. *»Bed by ten tonight,»* James said. Oliver nodded.
For a week, it was perfectpizza, chats. Then the school called. *»Olivers skipping class. His grades havent improved.»*
Diana exploded. *»This is your parenting? Im taking him back!»*
At Jamess flat, she barely got words out before Oliver fled againthis time to his grandmothers.
*»Hes with my mum,»* Diana sighed.
James squeezed her shoulder. *»We need a plan. He knows Grans soft on him. Lecturing wont work. Whens your holiday?»*
They went campingtents, backpacks, and schoolbooks in tow. Diana drilled history; James, maths. By the end, Oliver had passed both subjects.
Outside school, Diana and James waited anxiously.
*»He did it!»* Diana cried as Oliver sprinted out, waving his results.
*»Well done, son!»* James grinned. *»Now, who wants the best ice cream in town?»*
At the café, Diana watched them joke around. No anger, no resentment. Just relief.
James caught her eye. *»See? We did it. Together.»*
She knew the past was gone. But now, at least, they understood each other.
