Life took a harsh turn when my son and his wife died in a car crash six years ago. Since then, I’ve raised my granddaughter, Emily, who was sixteen at the time. It hasn’t been easy, but we made it work.
Last Tuesday, Emily burst into the apartment with a big smile. “Grandma! Guess what?”
I looked up from my crossword puzzle. “What is it?”
“I’m engaged!” she exclaimed, showing off a large ring.
My heart sank. “Engaged? To whom?”
“Tom! We’ve been dating for two months, and he’s perfect!” Emily’s excitement was palpable.
“Two months? That’s rather quick,” I said, concerned.
“Why can’t you be happy for me?” Emily’s smile faded.
“I’m just worried. What about your studies?” I asked.
“I’m dropping out. Tom will take care of me,” she replied dismissively.
“And if something goes wrong? What if he leaves you?” I asked, feeling anxious.
“He won’t,” she snapped. “Why are you so negative?”
I sighed. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”
“Well, don’t. I need you to move out. The apartment is mine now.”
I was stunned. “Move out? But I told you it would be yours after I’m gone.”
“It’s mine now,” she said casually. “I want you gone by tomorrow.”
A defiant-looking young woman | Source: Pexels
I tried to reason with her, but it was futile. That night, I barely slept, worried and heartbroken. The next day, Emily physically pushed me out of the apartment, insisting that Tom was moving in.
With nowhere to go, I called my sister Beatrice. “Bea, I need help. Emily kicked me out.”
“Come stay with me. We’ll figure this out,” Bea offered, her anger evident.
I took the bus to Bea’s and then reached out to my friend Fiona, a private investigator. “Fi, can you look into Emily’s fiancé, Tom?”
“Sure. Text me what you have,” Fiona replied.
Three days later, Fiona called with bad news. “Tom’s a con artist. He’s scammed several wealthy women.”
I was horrified. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Fiona confirmed.
On the wedding day, I showed up at the venue with Fiona and a folder of evidence. Emily saw us and stormed over. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to stop you from making a mistake,” I said firmly.
“You weren’t invited!” she snapped.
I held up the folder. “Tom is a fraud. He’s after your money.”
Emily’s face went pale. “What do you mean?”
“He’s conned others before,” I explained.
Emily grabbed the folder, flipping through it. “This can’t be true.”
Tom appeared, looking angry. “What’s going on?”
Emily demanded, “Is this true? Are you using me?”
Tom’s facade crumbled. “Of course not,” he stammered before fleeing the venue.
Emily, devastated, collapsed into a chair. I sat beside her, comforting her. “I’m so sorry, dear.”
She looked up, tearful. “What do I do now?”
“We’ll figure it out together,” I assured her.
A few days later, Emily called, panicked. “Tom maxed out my credit cards and took loans in my name. I’m in deep trouble.”
“You need to face this,” I advised. “Get a second job and sell what you can.”
Emily agreed, acknowledging her mistakes. “I’ve been terrible to you. I’m so sorry.”
“I forgive you,” I said. “It’s time to grow up.”
Emily worked tirelessly, juggling jobs and selling her possessions. She even started online classes. We settled back into a routine, and Emily began to appreciate the value of hard work.
One evening, as we shared tea on the balcony, Emily said, “Grandma, I never properly thanked you.”
I patted her hand. “You’re welcome. I’m proud of you.”
Emily smiled. “I’ve learned so much. Never trust someone who seems too perfect and always listen to you.”
I chuckled. “That about sums it up.”
We sat together, watching the stars, feeling a renewed bond. It wasn’t the future we’d planned, but it was ours to face together.
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