The husband can be divorced, but children are forever!
“Come in quick! My sister’s here!” called Nadine to her neighbour Vera as soon as she spotted her in the doorway of their home in Manchester.
“Loraine? No way! How long has it been?” gasped Vera, stepping into the cosy kitchen.
On the chair sat a striking woman with a weary yet warm smile. Seeing Vera, Loraine leaped up and rushed to embrace her. They had been friends since childhood, sharing joys and tears, and now, after all these years, their reunion felt like slipping back into those carefree days.
“We should celebrate! Two whole years!” Vera declared, and soon the women were settled around the table, lost in conversation. Each carried her own story, woven with the happiness and sorrow life had generously handed out.
Loraine had been widowed six years ago. Her husband, Arthur, died in a car crash alongside his mistress. For a full year, he’d led a double life, and Loraine had noticed nothing. She’d sensed something was off between them, but for the sake of their children—a son and a daughter—she’d fought to keep the marriage intact. They adored their father, and Loraine couldn’t bear to shatter their world.
But the accident changed everything. The children, devastated, took years to recover. Loraine, crushed by grief herself, struggled to hold them together, but the pain ate away at their family from the inside.
“My Paul? A proper tyrant!” Vera sighed, sipping her tea. “Read about toxic relationships online—it’s him to a tee. Good thing I kicked him out before he got too bold.”
“Husbands are one thing,” Loraine muttered bitterly. “You can divorce them. But children… children stay with you forever. After Arthur’s death, mine went off the rails. We were all grieving, but my son… He started blaming me for everything. Said it was our arguments that drove his father to cheat. Claimed his nerves gave out, so he crashed. And now he despises me. Told me I should’ve died instead. Can you imagine, Vera? That I—”
She fell silent, voice trembling, eyes brimming with tears. Vera and Nadine sat wordless. Loraine took a shaky breath and went on.
“He’s turned into a proper brute. Only nineteen, and I’m afraid of him. It’s not just the insults—he gets violent. I endure it because… what else can I do? Report my own son? He even harasses my sister for sticking up for me. The other day, he flew into such a rage, he slammed her head into the table—just because we went out together. He apologised afterwards, of course, but the next day? Back to it. I’m hoping the army will knock some sense into him. My daughter and I came here just to escape his cruelty for a little while.”
Vera watched her friend, heart clenching. She knew how much Loraine suffered but couldn’t find the words to soothe her. Nadine, Loraine’s sister, sat quiet, twisting a napkin in her hands, her own eyes glassy.
“Thing is,” Loraine continued, “I keep wondering—where did I go wrong? I tried so hard to be a good mother, but my son sees me as the villain. Blames me for everything that’s gone wrong in his life. And I… I just don’t know how to go on.”
“It’s unbearable,” Vera whispered. “How can he treat his own mother like this? He has to realise it isn’t your fault!”
“He doesn’t want to,” Loraine shook her head. “Hatred’s easier. And I’m scared he’ll break not just me, but my sister too. She endures it all for my sake.”
Nadine finally lifted her gaze. “Loraine, I don’t regret standing by you. He’s your son, but this can’t go on. We’ve got to do something. Maybe talk to him? Or get him to see a therapist?”
“A therapist?” Loraine scoffed bitterly. “He wouldn’t even listen. Says I’m the problem—end of story.”
The kitchen grew heavy with silence, thick as storm clouds. Each woman carried the ache of the others, yet none knew how to ease it. Vera, grasping for relief, raised her mug.
“Girls, let’s drink… to us. To finding the strength to keep going, no matter what husbands or children do to our hearts.”
Loraine and Nadine offered weak smiles, but their eyes shone with unshed tears. They clinked glasses, but there was no joy in the toast. Loraine gazed out the window at the deepening dusk, thinking of her son. Despite everything, she still loved him—but deep down, she feared that love might just be her undoing.
