I had one goal.
Never go back to that house.
And I succeeded.
Four years later, I graduated with honors.
No one from my family attended my graduation. No texts, no calls, nothing.
But I never expected them to.
I stood among hundreds of graduates, watching as parents hugged their children, took photos, and celebrated their achievements.
And me?
I stood there, proud of myself in silence.
Even after leaving them behind, I was never truly free.
Every now and then, I would receive invitations to my father’s parties. Not because he cared, but because he wanted to maintain the image of a good father.
I never wanted to go, but the pressure from relatives—the ones who always told me, “Don’t let the past affect the family”—forced me to show up a few times.
And each time, my father found a way to belittle me.
I remember a Christmas a few years ago.
I reluctantly accepted the invitation and returned to the house I once called home.
I had hoped that, after all these years, maybe my father had changed.
But the moment I walked in, I knew everything was the same.
Hunter, dressed in an expensive suit, bragged about the job my father had pulled strings to get him.
Olivia sat on the couch, a diamond ring glinting on her hand, boasting about her latest European vacation.
And my father, upon seeing me, simply smirked and said, “Still doing that freelance work?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer.
“Times must be tough. I could ask around and find you a real job.”
A real job?
Those words hit me like a punch to the chest.
As if everything I had built meant nothing.
I wanted to tell him that I had started my own company, that I was more successful than ever, that I didn’t need his help.
But I knew it wouldn’t matter to him.
To my father, if I wasn’t following the path he had set, I would always be a disappointment.
I placed my glass down, met his eyes, and said, “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m doing just fine.”
But he only smirked, as if I were just deluding myself.
“If you’re really doing well, then why are you here alone?”
I left the party right after that.
Phân cảnh 5: Confronting the past
After that night, I refused every invitation from my family.
I blocked Karen’s number, ignored Olivia’s messages, and disregarded the passive-aggressive comments from relatives.
I didn’t need them.
But sometimes, whether I wanted to or not, I still had to face my father.
The last time was at Olivia’s wedding.
I didn’t want to go, but some part of me thought I should, if only to prove that I had moved on from them.
When I stepped into the reception hall, my father looked at me in surprise.
Not because he was happy to see me, but because I didn’t look like the failure he had always assumed I would be.
“Lucy?” He blinked.
I wore an elegant red dress, my hair in a sleek updo, my makeup subtle yet sharp.
I was no longer the weak girl he once knew.