**”Shadows of the New Year: Emily’s Story”**
“New Year’s at my parents’ place!” Daniel announced, hugging Emily. “Em, it’ll be brilliant!”
“At your parents’?” She frowned. “Why not at home?”
“Come on, what’s there to do at home? Stare at the snow out the window? The city’s packed, but out in the countryside—there’s woods, sledging, even an ice rink. Lily’ll love it! Trust me, you’ll have a proper good time.”
Emily and Daniel had married just four months ago. Their romance had been slow, but she’d hesitated for years before saying yes to a second marriage. Nine years had passed since her first husband’s death, but the ache never faded. Lily was barely six months old when she lost her dad. Emily could never shake the grief—he never saw Lily’s first steps, never heard her say “Daddy.” Lily often asked why other kids had fathers and she didn’t. Emily never hid the truth: “Your dad was the kindest man.” Daniel had always been there, steady as a rock. She’d assumed he was too focused on his career, but later realised—he’d only ever waited for her.
Daniel’s parents, Richard and Margaret, hadn’t warmed to the idea of him marrying a woman with a child. They’d doubted they could ever love Lily as their own. Emily never pushed them to play grandparents, steering clear of visits. She hated feeling like an outsider in their home.
“They won’t exactly be thrilled to see us,” she murmured.
“Don’t be daft,” Daniel brushed her off. “They *invited* us! Mum rang, insisted we stay the whole holiday.”
Emily wasn’t convinced. Dropping by for tea was one thing; spending New Year’s with people who barely tolerated her was another. She’d rather visit her foster mum, the woman from the children’s home who’d raised her. She’d been family when Emily had none, and Emily still sent her gifts and called often. But leaving Daniel alone for their first New Year’s together felt wrong. His high-pressure job meant he could be called in any moment. If his parents had invited them, she’d give it a go. She gently prepped Lily, who’d always sensed the chill from her new “grandparents.”
“Your room’s the attic—my old hideout,” Daniel grinned at Lily. “I’ve got loads to show you up there. It’ll be a laugh!”
Lily thawed a little. She adored Daniel, and seeing her mum finally happy made her glow.
On the evening of the 29th, Daniel showed them around the cosy cottage in the Cotswolds, chatting about his childhood. His father had already turned in, and his mother served tea before retreating. Emily could *feel* Margaret’s tension. She wanted to clear the air. If their presence was such a bother, why invite them? Or had Daniel lied to force a reunion?
No—he’d never lied. He’d admitted his parents disapproved at first. Still, something nagged at her.
The next day, Daniel got called into work. “Back in a jiffy!” he promised, dashing off. Emily kept Lily busy upstairs, avoiding Margaret. But hunger drove her to the kitchen. “Need help?” Lily asked. “No, love, read your book. I’ll sort it,” Emily said, stepping out.
As she buttered toast, Margaret’s voice drifted from the lounge. The door was ajar. Emily caught the words and froze: “*I won’t have strangers’ children in my house! I’ve always said it, Margaret, and I’ll say it again!*”
Emily’s heart dropped. Was that about them? She couldn’t bear to hear more. Feed Lily, pack up, leave. They’d head back to their flat in Bristol and figure it out. If Daniel kept forcing this, their marriage was doomed. Lily came first—always. She’d warned Daniel from the start, and he’d agreed.
Maybe she should confront Margaret? Admit they didn’t expect love, just respect. It might clarify things.
“Emily, are you asleep in here?” Margaret bustled in. “Why aren’t you eating? I’ve made a stew. Fetch Lily—lunch is ready.”
“Margaret,” Emily steeled herself, “let’s not pretend we’re welcome. I don’t stop Daniel seeing you, but I won’t play along. Lily and I aren’t wanted here.”
“Where’s *this* coming from?” Margaret frowned. “Yes, we struggled with Daniel’s choice. But *we* invited you.”
“Did you, though?” Emily held her gaze. “You’re ice-cold. Richard hides in his study, you force smiles. Why invite us if you just told your sister you won’t have ‘strangers’ children’ here?”
Margaret went still. “*You eavesdropped?*”
“No. I walked past and heard that line. Nothing else.”
“You should’ve listened longer,” Margaret sighed. “My sister Margaret—strict as they come. Raised that way. I *did* resent Daniel raising another man’s child. We worried what it’d do to him. But he chose you, and he’s never been happier. Four months is enough to change minds. If he loves you and Lily, we must too. Margaret disagrees. She refused to come for New Year’s when she heard you’d be here. That’s why I said it—but I *added* Lily isn’t a stranger. She’s our son’s child, if he claims her.”
Margaret wiped her eyes. “We invited you to bond, to be proper grandparents. Not for show. Richard’s in town buying gifts for you and Lily. I know I’ve made you doubt me, but give me a chance. We’d never hurt you or Lily. Daniel wouldn’t forgive us—or himself.”
Emily felt a tear slip. Thank God she’d spoken up. She called Lily to lunch. Over stew, she told Margaret about her life, her fear of loving again, how long it took to trust Daniel. Lily chatted about school. The air between them warmed.
Richard and Margaret threw themselves into winning Lily over—building snowmen, sledging. That New Year’s was the first truly happy one in years. Emily hadn’t felt this light in forever, and Lily beamed, already planning return trips to see Granny and Grandad.
Margaret’s sister wasn’t just bitter about Daniel’s choice. Her own daughter, a single mum, struggled to raise her boy, and she envied Emily’s happiness. She cut ties, but that was her loss.
Richard and Margaret loved Lily as their own. When Emily announced her pregnancy, they celebrated—but swore no child would ever feel second-best.
