When I was four years old, my mother fell seriously ill.
It was also the same year my father had an affair.
With his secretary.
He no longer bothered to take care of my sick mother and sent both her and me back to my grandfather's house. He gave a lame excuse: "I'm too busy at work, I don't have time to take care of them."
But I saw that he really had plenty of time, time that he used to be with his lover.
My mother held on for two years before passing away. When she left, she looked at me for a long time, and I stared back, not wanting to blink, even though my eyes were sore from holding back tears.
I knew that once I closed my eyes, the only way I would ever see her again was through a photograph.
"Sweetie, I'll always make sure you're healthy and safe." I saw my mother weakly raise her hand, wanting to embrace me.
So, I couldn't hold it in anymore and buried myself in her arms. That's when I realized that when you're deeply sad, you don't cry loudly.
She gently patted my back, stiff but not painful: "My child will be happy. Happier than I was."
I thought I would live with my grandparents for the rest of my life.
Until one day, my father suddenly showed up again.
He seemed unable to handle the public pressure and forcibly brought me back.
"Zoe, Celia will be your new mom from now on." My father told me this before he walked in.
He didn't give me any chance to discuss it.
He wanted me to be like a puppet without any opinions, just accept it without causing trouble.
Though his secretary, who married him, wasn't cruel like the stepmothers in the books, I still never fit in with the three of them.
Because it felt so foreign.
And because all the rules in this house had one condition—no matter what, I would always come after Mckayla.
They would always buy a cake for Mckayla first, and only when they saw me standing beside them would they ask if I wanted some. When I went back to school, they would take Mckayla to the amusement park and only think of buying me a souvenir when Mckayla asked. Even when Mckayla won an award, they would realize that day was also my graduation ceremony.
But I didn't care.
Because I didn't want to stay here. This wasn't my home.
Everything went smoothly, and I became an invisible person until I graduated and started my own business.
That's when my father finally realized something was wrong.
I didn't go back to his place anymore, and I didn't even call for six months.
He walked into the room I hadn't used for a long time and found my star posters on the wall, my awards, but not a single photo with them.
It turned out I had once been lively and radiant too.
But he began to get distracted, wanting to make up for it.
Just like when he brought Mckayla and her mom home, he didn't give me any choice. He didn't ask if I was willing to accept it.
When he asked me for the third time to come back for dinner and I refused with an excuse, he became furious: "Zoe! I'm your father, we're family!"
"I know I didn't show enough concern for you, but I want to make up for it now. Won't you give your dad a chance?"
I scoffed.
He was too self-centered, always thinking that effort should be rewarded. Maybe that's how things worked in business, but love never was like that.
So I fumbled with the photo that my grandfather had shown me of John. Grandfather introduced him: "Zoe, this kid's a good one. I watched him grow up. His family background is solid, and no one can bully him. Mainly, your grandma and I are old, and we don't know how much time we have left…"
"We're not worried about anything else, but we're worried you'll be tangled up with your father again. Do you remember when he suddenly appeared and took you away? We can't handle that a second time."
As expected, on the other end of the phone, my father was yelling: "What else do you want from me? Should I kneel down and beg you to come home?"
"How much longer do you think you can stay with me? What if you get married in the future, then I'll really be an outsider?"
Ignoring his shouting and moral blackmail on the phone, I finally gave him a comeback: "Just to let you know, I'm getting married, but I'm not telling you where. You don't need to come."
"I don't want someone who's hurt my family at my wedding."
