A Good Dad and a Bad Mum
“Matthew, do you even realise what you’ve done?” Mrs. Penelope Harris, the deputy headteacher, was smoothing her disheveled hair. It had only just been thwacked by a rucksacka rucksack Matthew had been gleefully kicking down the corridor. “This is beyond unacceptable! Do you really think just because you were forgiven once, it means youll always be let off the hook? A fight, disrupting lessons … and my hair of all things!”
“I…,” Matthew stammered, but he couldnt come up with anything convincing. What was he supposed to say? That Ethan, the boy he’d given a black eye to, deserved it? That the lesson was painfully dull? Or that it was just more fun to send his rucksack skidding down the hall than to sit there and redo fractions for the millionth time?
Until Year 6, Matthew had been the perfect little student. Teachers forgave him for everything back then because he’d always been the model pupil. But the well of goodwill had finally run dry.
“You kicked your classmate. Thats appalling enough on its own!” continued Mrs. Harris, tapping a neatly manicured finger on a folder brimming over with paperwork.
“He started it,” Matthew mumbled.
“Your classmates tell a different story,” Mrs. Harris countered, raising an eyebrow. “They say it was you who knocked his things off the desk first.”
Knocked them off? Well perhaps he had. Matthew honestly couldnt remember what hed been annoyed about in the first place.
“You kicked him, started a fight and if that wasnt bad enough for one day, you made a complete spectacle of yourself by interrupting the biology lesson, throwing books around and upsetting Mrs. Whitakerdont forget to apologise to her, by the way! Oh, and just to finish things off, you decided to enact your one-man show by kicking that rucksack all over the lower school corridor, terrifying the Year 3s. Mind you, not even your own rucksack!” Mrs Harris adjusted her glasses with a sharp glance. “And look at your marks nownothing but Ds and Es across the board. You used to do so well Matthew, do you have any idea how disappointing this is?”
Matthew nodded quietly.
He could imagine it well enough. But was he sorry? Not really. If he was honest, it felt goodgood to finally have someone notice him.
“And that’s not even the end of it,” Mrs Harris added, drumming her nails on the desk again. “Your mother’s already here, waiting outside. Shell hear the entire story too. Im afraid were going to have to start bringing your parents in when this happens.”
As if right on cue, there was a faint knock at the door. Sarah, his mum, had already overheard enough of the conversation before she even walked in.
“Good afternoon,” she said with forced cheer as she sat down next to Matthew. It felt unsettlingalmost as if she were the one about to be scolded.
Mrs Harris clearly hoped Sarah could get through to him.
“Afternoon, Sarah, though I must say its hardly been a good one.” Mrs Harris rolled her eyes in frustration and began her detailed narration of Matthews misdeeds.
Sarah could do little but nod and weakly promise to have a proper talk with her son at home.
I am very sorry for this,” Sarah said, her voice trembling slightly. “I will make sure it doesnt happen again. You have my word.”
See that you do, Mrs Harris replied crisply. Because Im running out of words myself.
But no one in that office truly believed it wouldnt happen again.
At home, when they were finally alone, Sarah turned to her son. But rather than an expected lecture, her voice was soft, almost pleading.
“Matthew, sweetheart, whats going on? Why are you acting this way?” she asked, sitting beside him. Matthew, much like in Mrs Harriss office, stared off into a corner, showing no sign of willingness to engage.
What do you mean? he muttered, not directly answering, his tone carrying something that made Sarahs worry deepen.
What did she mean? He was barely scraping through school, and his behaviour was a constant problem. Surely, that was enough?
“I mean everything, Matthew. Your behaviour, your grades, the way you treat your teachers. This isnt like you. Whats happened to my thoughtful, kind son?”
Matthew stayed quiet for a long pause. Then, with a bitterness that surprised Sarah, he finally responded.
“Maybe this is the only way youll notice me,” he said, turning to face her. His eyes burned with an intensity she hadnt seen before.
Notice you? Sarah echoed, utterly bewildered. What do you mean? Im always asking about your day, about school, your friends We just went to that adventure park the other weekend!
True, Sarah had been working more and more lately, barely able to make ends meet since it was now just the two of them. The measly child support payments from her ex, James, were barely enough to buy a pack of crisps, let alone help with bills. Still, she thought she was managing to be a good mum despite it all.
“No, Mum. You’re not getting it,” Matthew interrupted sharply. Its not about the little bits of attention! I want my family back like it was before. I want you and Dad together again.”
Ah. There it was. The elephant in the room. Sarah had known this day would come, but shed secretly hoped it wouldntnot for a few more years, at least. Explaining a divorce to a three-year-old wouldve been easier. Twelve-year-olds they asked tougher questions.
Matthew, she began hesitantly, trying to hold her composure, your dad and I we thought this arrangement would be best for everyone. It was a decision we made together. But youre free to see him as much as you want. That hasnt changed.
“No!” Matthews voice rose along with his frustration. “I know what happened! I heard Dad that night, when he came over asking to move back in, but you wouldnt let him! Its you! Youre the reason our familys broken! And until you fix it, Ill keep behaving like this. And worse!”
With that, he stormed off to his room, shutting the door with a force that reverberated down the hallway.
Alone in the living room, Sarah put her head in her hands. Was this really happening? Was her twelve-year-old son blackmailing heremotionally, at least?
I cant take him back, Matthew, she whispered into the silence. You dont know the full story.
Because how could she explain the years of betrayal? How could she tell her child about Jamess long-time affairan affair that had started when Matthew was still toddling around in nappies? She and James had both sworn that the truth would stay hidden. Their son didnt need to carry that burden, didnt need his image of his father tarnished by their mistakes. He should love both his parents equally.
Yet, here they were, and now she was the villain. Alone, Sarah muttered to herself, “And now, he doesnt love me at all, does he?”
The weekend that followed passed in tense silence. Matthew refused any attempts to talk. Whenever Sarah tried, he punctuated her words with the slam of a door.
Monday rolled around, and Sarah couldnt hide her relief as she sent him back to school. At least the house would be peaceful, even if just for a few hours.
But Matthew had no intention of letting this go quietly.
The bathroom lights been out for a week, he said one evening. “If Dad were here, hed have already sorted it.”
Never mind that Sarah had always been the one fixing the lights.
That basketball tournament at school is next week,” he added another day. “If you two werent divorced, youd come together but dont bother coming alone.”
Then one weekend, Matthew eagerly declared that he wanted to spend time at his dads.
For Sarah, it was a bittersweet relief. She let him go with a hopeful heart, thinking that perhaps James might be able to steady that restlessness of his. When Matthew came back, however, things only got worse.
He arrived home different. His attitude toward her turned openly cold, and in his hands were giftsa brand-new gaming console, shelves of sweets, flashy gadgets.
Look what Dad bought me, he announced with a triumph Sarah hadnt seen in years. Its so much better than well, you know.
Oh, hes a treasure! Sarah quipped sarcastically, watching him unload the bounty onto the kitchen table.
He is, Matthew replied with a shrug. And youre not. You dont let me have anything good. You just go on about homework this and school that. Dad lets me do whatever I want. Here it was, clear as day: James was buying his sons affectiona fast track back into Matthews favour.
One night, Sarah reached a breaking point during an argument about a maths assignment.
“Do you see now why Dad left?!” Matthew exploded. “He couldnt put up with you anymore! He tried to mend things, but you you ruin everything.”
For a moment, Sarah froze. Then, something inside her snapped.
Oh, he couldnt put up with me, could he?! she shouted back. Oh, did he tell you about his years-long affair? Thats why he left, Matthew! Not because of me, but because he already had one foot out the doorfor years.
Matthews panicked expression quickly replaced the defiant one hed been wearing seconds earlier. For the first time in months, he looked less like an outraged pubescent and more like a small, scared child.
Thats not true! he managed to yell back. Dad said Dad told me he met her afterwards! When you were already splitting up!”
In this terrible face-off, Matthew finally blurted out what held him back: “But all right! If thats how it is, Id be happy to move in. Away with Dad!” Matthew shouted. “At least he cares about me!”
The words felt like a slap. Sarah stood frozen, her face pale, her chest tight. Matthews breathing was ragged, his fists clenched, his stance one of misplaced triumph. For a moment, the room felt too small for the storm between them.
Then, Sarah did something Matthew didn’t expect. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and sat down at the table. When she looked up at him again, her eyes werent angrythey were tired, sad, and, somewhere within, still full of love.
Matthew, she said softly, but firmly, your dad loves you. I dont doubt that. But love isnt measured by how many things someone gives you. Its measured by the hard stufflike staying, even when things are messy and hard. The truth is, I stayed. I stayed because of you. I stayed when every fiber of my heart was shattered.”
Matthew stayed silent, his defenses faltering as those words reached him.
“I wasn’t perfect, Matthew,” Sarah continued. “But I did my best to give you stability, to take the hits and keep this family, whats left of it, standing.” A tear slid down her cheek. “But maybe I failed. Maybe, no matter what Ive done, it will never be enough for you. And maybe thats something Ill have to live with.
Matthew’s lip quivered, though he tried to hold himself steady. “Youre lying. Youre just saying that to make me feel bad.”
No, Sarah said immediately. Im saying this because I want you to understand the weight of choice. The choices your dad and I made. The choices youre making now. Life isnt fair, sweetheart, but it is honest. And the truth… She took a shaky breath. The truth is, youre old enough to decide how you see me. How you see him. But youre going to have to live with that choice too. Just like Ive lived with mine.
The air between them hung heavy, and for a fleeting moment, Sarah thought she had lost him completely. But then, something crackedjust the faintest crackin Matthews hard, outer shell.
Why didnt you ever tell me? he muttered. About… his affair?
“Because,” Sarah replied after a pause, her voice soft again, “I wanted you to love him without knowing his mistakes. We all make them, Matthew. Even me. Especially me.” She reached out, tentatively placing her hand on the table. “I thought I was protecting you. Maybe I shouldve known better. I just didnt want you to grow up hating either one of us.”
Matthew stared at her hand. His shoulders sank, and so did his anger. He wasnt ready to give in entirelytwelve-year-olds rarely werebut for the first time, something human and vulnerable flickered in his eyes.
I dont know how to feel about all this, he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Thats okay, Sarah said gently. All I ask is that when youre ready, we can talk. Really talk. And Ill listen, Matthew. Ill always listen.
For the first time in weeks, Matthew didnt offer a sharp retort or storm away. Instead, he hesitated, then noddedjust barely, but it was enough for Sarah. Enough to offer hope.
And as he shuffled off to his room, quieter this time, Sarah sat at the kitchen table, breathing deeply, the weight on her shoulders just a fraction lighter. Maybe they werent fixed yet. Maybe there was still a long, messy road ahead. But for the first time in far too long, she allowed herself to believe that they could find their way to something better. Together.
