You Know, George, She’s Your Sister, and I’m Your Wife—I Can’t Stand Watching You Take from Our Kids and Give It All to Helen Any Longer

“Listen, George, she’s your sister, but I’m your wife. And I can’t bear watching you take all we have from our own children to give to Eleanor.”

George knew his wife was right, yet he couldnt act differently. Whenever his sister needed help, he was the first to offer itjust as he had since childhood.

“Georgie, pass me the nail,” seven-year-old Ellie called, standing on a rickety stool by the old shed.

“Why do you need a nail?” her nine-year-old brother asked warily.

“Im making a cat house again.”

“Again? Last time I helped you build one, the cat wouldnt go near it, and you sulked for a week.”

“This time itll workIm lining it with fabric.”

They grew up like two shoots from the same root. Their mother worked at the factory, and their father passed early. George, though young, took on the role of the man in the housefixing bikes, mending taps, warming up supper.

“Georgie, do you think Ill grow up to be an actress?”

“You already are one. Yesterday, you wailed after that fall, then grinned while eating jampure theatre.”

Time passed. George trained as an electrician, settled in the city, and married Margaret.

Ellie trained as a teacher, lived in student housing, and visited whenever she could.

Margaret only sighed.

“George, your sisters grown. Shouldnt she manage on her own now?”

“Shes not a suitcase I can hand off and forget,” he replied quietly. “Shes my sister.”

After qualifying, Ellie took a teaching post in a village, living in a cold dorm room with an ancient stove and meagre wages. George visited every holiday.

“I told youbuy a heater.”

“I cant afford it. The childrens books come first.”

“I brought you one. And a coat.”

“Wont Margaret mind?”

“Oh, shell mind. But you wont freeze.”

Once, Ellie called in tears.

“George Im expecting.”

“Well, congratulations so why the tears?”

“He left. Said he wasnt ready.”

“His loss. Hold on. Im coming.”

“No, really Ill manage”

“Ellie, this isnt up for debate.”

He arrived the next day with groceries, money, a blanket, and baby clothes.

“Margarets furious,” he admitted at the kitchen table.

“I dont want to cause trouble”

“Listen. My wifes a good woman, but she didnt raise me.”

“You know this isnt just replacing a lost phone. Its serious.”

“Exactly why Im here.”

George stayed for the birth, cradling his nephew like treasure.

“Whatll you name him?”

“Matthew.”

“Good name. Hell grow up to protect you, just as I did.”

Afterwards, he helped oftenbaby formula, room repairs, a pram. Meanwhile, Margaret grew distant.

One evening, she finally spoke.

“George, I dont mind you helping Ellie. But when its always from our familys budgetits not support anymore. Its a loss for us.”

“I understand. But I cant stop.”

“And I cant live feeling your sister always comes first.”

George said nothing. He loved them both equally.

Over time, Ellie found her footing, opening a childrens club adored in the village. Her son grew quiet and kind.

George visited less but never empty-handed.

“Matthew, look what Uncle broughta model set!”

“Mum says you and Aunt Margaret are older now, and its harder for you, so we shouldnt take much.”

“Well, Im not as old as your mum thinks.”

At fifty, George fell gravely ill. Ellie arrived with homemade jam, pies, and her son.

“Margaret, may I tidy up? Georges desk is chaos as ever.”

“Go ahead. And dish the pies. He eats nothing without you.”

“Thats not true!” George grumbled from the sofa.

“Of course not. Thats why youve lost half a stone this week”

They laughed like children. For the first time, Margaret looked at Ellie not with jealousy, but understanding.

“You were right,” she murmured as Ellie stepped into the kitchen. “Shes good. I just thought you were choosing between us.”

“I never chose. My heart has room for you both.”

A year later, Margaret and George welcomed a granddaughter.

Matthew went to university. Ellie remained a village teacher, calling her brother every Sunday.

“How are you?”

“Oh, fine. Margarets knitting, Im watching telly. You?”

“Matthews home for breakwere mushroom picking.”

“Good hes grown honest and kind.”

“Because he had you to look up to.”

In their twilight years, sitting side by side on the porch, Ellie said softly,

“You know, George, I think God gave me you as a brother for a reason. Without you, Id have been lost.”

“And Id have been someone else without you. You were always therenot as a duty, but as family.”

And so they understood: love isnt divided when sharedit only grows.