15October2025 Manchester
Im writing this to make sense of last nights mess. Emma asked me quietly, Ian, have you thought about me at all? I know you love your daughter, and I wont stop you seeing her, but isnt it odd that your exwife keeps milking you through the child? Her whims force us to tighten our own belts. When will it end?
That afternoon Emma got home early from the office and set the table. It was Friday, so we were expecting Pippa, my elevenyearold from my first marriage, to arrive that evening. The doorbell rang and Emma hurried to answer. In the hallway stood myself and my stepdaughter. Pippa slipped past Emma without a glance, tossed a quick Hi and went straight into the flat. I looked at Emma apologetically and muttered, Hi, love. How was your day?
Fine, Emma replied, trying to mask irritation, please, have a seat.
The dinner table fell into a strained silence. I tried to lighten the mood, recounting my workday, but Pippa replied with monosyllables or stayed mute, deliberately ignoring Emma. She ate in silence, feeling a lump rise in her throat.
Dad, Mum said she needs money urgently for a new winter coat. Hers is ragged and she feels embarrassed walking to school with it, Pippa blurted out.
Alright, Pippa, well discuss it after dinner, I said calmly.
Inside, I could feel my temper simmering. More money, more endless requests how long can this go on? I thought.
After we finished eating, Pippa and I retreated to her room for homework. Emma stayed in the kitchen washing dishes, catching fragments of their conversation.
Dad, you know Mum really needs it. Shes the one holding us together, and this Pippas voice dropped.
Can yout buy her a coat yourself? I asked timidly.
It isnt about you, Dad! You have no money! I wouldnt ask if things werent terrible. Youre a man, you should support her! Im your daughter!
Emma could no longer contain herself. She slammed the sponge into the sink and marched into the bedroom.
Ian, we need to talk, she said firmly.
Not now, Emma, I tried to dodge, were doing homework.
No, now, she insisted, Pippa, could you give us a minute?
Pippa scowled but left the room. Emma shut the door hard behind her and turned to me.
How long will this keep happening? she asked.
What do you mean? I pretended not to understand.
The money, Ian! Your exwife, Pippa, the whole circus! Were barely covering the mortgage, Ive given up everything for you, and you keep handing out cash! Its absurd!
Its my child. I cant just turn my back on her, I began to justify.
And what about me? About us? I cant even afford a dental filling because theres no money left!
I get it, I said contrite, Ill talk to Claire
Shell never listen! She always gets what she wants. Maybe you should remind her that she has a husband who also owes his family a duty, Emma snapped.
Dont drag Claire into this, Emma, I muttered, shes a decent mother.
A decent mother? If she were, she wouldnt dump all her problems on you! She likes it that you foot the bill, Emma shot back.
Enough! I exploded, Dont speak of my childs mother like that!
And dont forget you have a real wife who loves and supports you! Emma shouted.
I love you, I whispered, but I cant abandon my child.
Then perhaps you should decide who you love more, she challenged.
I lowered my head, speechless.
Why are you shouting, Emma? Are we fighting? Pippas voice drifted from the hallway.
No, love, I tried to soothe her, everythings fine.
No, its not fine! Emma snapped, Were arguing because of you and your mother!
Because of me? Pippa raised an eyebrow.
Yes, because you keep demanding money, because you treat me like an empty room! Emma blurted.
Am I supposed to love you? Youre no one to me! Pippa retorted, I have my mum!
Emma felt as if shed been slapped. She stared at me, waiting for a response, but I could only lower my gaze.
Pippa, you can stay here as long as you like, but I wont tolerate this any longer. My patience has run out, Emma said, her voice cracking. She left the room, leaving Pippa and me alone. Later, behind the bedroom door, she dialled her friends number.
Hi, I need to talk, she choked out.
The next day Emma met her friend at a café, looking pale and barely touching her food. Her friend listened and asked, Emma, are you seriously thinking about a divorce?
I dont know, Emma admitted, I love Ian, but I cant live like this. Hes torn between me and his former family, and I feel like an outsider. Im exhausted.
I understand, but maybe try talking to him once more? Explain how you feel, what you need, the friend suggested.
Ive told him a thousand times! Emma protested, He seems to understand, yet nothing changes. He doesnt want to hurt his daughter, but hes hurting me.
What about Pippa? Have you tried speaking with her? the friend probed.
Pointless! She only listens to her mother and does everything to put me down. She doesnt see me as a person.
Kids often mirror their parents behaviour. Perhaps you could find common ground with her?
She cant stand me! She ignores me on purpose! Its impossible, Emma replied.
But maybe give it a go? Show her you want a relationship, and she might soften, the friend urged.
Emma fell silent, realizing the friend had a point. If she wanted to save the marriage, she would have to swallow her pride and try to bridge the gap with the stubborn teenager.
Alright, Ill try. I just dont expect miracles, she sighed.
That evening, when Ian brought Pippa home, Emma decided to act. She emerged from the kitchen with a tray of scones and tea. Pippa was glued to her phone on the sofa.
Pippa, would you like some tea and a scone? Emma asked.
Im not hungry, Pippa replied.
Just have a bite, Emma urged, placing the tray on the table. I baked them myself.
Reluctantly, Pippa took a bite and murmured, Tasty.
Im glad, Emma smiled, come sit, Ill bring you tea.
Pippa perched at the table, looking wary. Moments ago the stepmother had yelled at her, now she was being offered kindness.
Pippa, can we talk? Emma began, I know you dont like having me around your dad.
I dont have to like you, Pippa cut in, youre not my mum.
I get that, Emma nodded, Im not trying to replace anyone. I just want peace. Your dad is suffering because of our fights.
She paused, watching Pippa stare into her cup.
I know you love your mother, and thats wonderful. It doesnt mean you have to hate me. I love your dad too.
Youre lying! Pippa shouted, You both only argue!
We argue because its hard, but that doesnt erase the love we have for each other, Emma confessed. She waited, hoping for a response. Pippa stared at the tablecloth pattern, then lifted her eyes.
Is that true? she whispered.
True, Emma said, I could swear on it right now.
Just then Ian walked in, surprised to see them sitting together in quiet.
Is everything okay? he asked.
Were just having a chat, Emma replied with a smile.
The evening turned out better than expected. Pippa played Twister with her stepmother, and Ian laughed heartily. For the first time, Pippa seemed comfortable around Emma, showing a side of herself that wasnt hostile.
Looking back, I realise that I have been trying to juggle two families without honest conversation, letting resentment fester. The lesson I take from this night is simple: duty to my child must be balanced with respect for my partner, and the only way to achieve that is through openness, even when it hurts. Only then can a household truly function as a team.
