“I cooked dinner.”
“Lukie, you’re older now. Stop asking for so much.”
Older.
That was their excuse for every injustice.
I was older, so I had to give in. I was older, so I had to understand. I was older, so I no longer needed my father’s attention.
I remember once Olivia spilled milk all over the table.
Karen turned to me and said, “Clean it up, Lucy.”
“But I didn’t do it,” I protested.
Karen simply shrugged.
“But you’re the older sister.”
Olivia and Hunter could make a mess, scream, do whatever they wanted, and face no consequences.
And me?
I had to stay silent and accept it.
Everything reached its breaking point when I turned 18.
Before my mother passed away, she had set aside a college fund for me.
Every penny was saved with the hope that I could become independent and leave this house behind.
But when I needed that money, it was gone.
I still remember the shock of opening my bank account and seeing the balance at zero.
My throat went dry as I turned to my father and asked him what had happened.
He said it calmly, as if he were talking about the weather.
“I used it to help Hunter get into college.”
My heart shattered.
“That was my money,” I whispered, my voice trembling with anger.
“Hunter needed it more.” He shrugged. “You can still apply for scholarships, right?”
At that moment, I laughed a bitter, hollow laugh.
I didn’t need to ask Karen. I already knew she was the one who had pushed him to do it.
In her eyes, I wasn’t worth a future.
I hated him from that moment on.
That night, I packed my bags and left that house forever.
Phân cảnh 4: Forging her own path
I took care of myself, working any job I could to survive.
I didn’t need his money, his fake love, or this so-called family.
But now, standing in the middle of this extravagant party with that “family disappointment” name tag sitting on the table, I realized something.
I wasn’t the one who should be disappointed.
They were.
I tightened my grip on my glass and smiled.
If they thought I would stay silent and endure like before, they were wrong.
I didn’t just leave that house with a suitcase. I carried every scar they had carved into me over the years.
The day I stepped onto that bus out of town, I swore I would never need them again.
And I kept that promise.
I threw myself into my studies, working three jobs at once to pay for tuition.
While Hunter enjoyed his college life with all-night parties and luxury vacations funded by my father, I worked myself to exhaustion just to afford a cramped apartment near campus.
I never complained.
I had no time for hatred, no energy for nostalgia.