Part 2Daughter’s Regret After Choosing Stepmother Over Me

I was tidying up the clutter around the house.

Emily had grabbed her pajamas without a word and gone straight into the bathroom to shower.

When I got to her room, the diary sitting on the corner of her desk suddenly slid off and hit the floor with a thud.

I bent down to pick it up, and my fingers accidentally flipped it open.

Under today's date, in her own handwriting:

"Dad and my new mom took me to Disneyland today. I was so happy. My new mom is so gentle. She never yells at me or tells me what I can eat. The two of them together feel like a real family. I wish I could be with them forever."

My fingers stiffened slightly. I flipped back through the pages.

"September 14. My new mom took me to a fancy mall and bought me expensive skincare products. Whatever I want, she gets it for me. We have so much to talk about. Not like my mom, who just nags me every day. Boring and rigid."

Reading those words, I suddenly remembered that period.

My hands had been rough and cracked from washing vegetables and cooking, covered in fine lines.

They had been hurting badly that day.

I noticed a brand-new tube of hand cream on her nightstand and squeezed out a small amount.

It was the most trivial thing.

But when she found out, she screamed at me, demanding to know why I was touching her personal belongings.

Confused, I had asked where the hand cream came from.

Her eyes darted away, and she mumbled that a friend had given it to her.

It was never from a friend.

It was from her new mom.

That was why she had treated it like a treasure and refused to let me touch it.

I swallowed the cold feeling rising inside me and kept flipping.

I reached her graduation day.

"June 20th. Graduation ceremony today. Dad and my new mom came to school to see me in secret. I sent Mom away on purpose and went to McDonald's with Dad and Aunt Camilla. We walked around the food trucks and ate tons of fried food. It was so good."

"I really regret not going with Dad when he left. I should have found him and left with him."

"I can't wait to move in with Dad and my new mom and finally break free from Mom. I don't want to stay in this house for one more second..."

Page after page.

Dense lines of handwriting, all filled with contempt for me.

Every sacrifice I had made to protect her was, in her words, nothing but suffocation and misery.

The sound of running water from the bathroom continued.

My heart grew still.

At dinner, I covered the table with food.

I cooked all the dishes I used to love eating.

Normal amounts of oil and salt, plus a plate of golden, glistening meatballs.

Greasy and rich, the kind of food I used to fight to keep away from Emily.

Emily sat at the table, her eyes locked on the meatballs.

I looked at her and lowered my voice.

"Go ahead. Eat as much as you want. From now on, tell me what you want, and I'll make it."

Her eyes lit up instantly, and she started shoveling food into her mouth.

I watched in silence.

Until the plate of meatballs was nearly empty.

Full and content, Emily leaned back in her chair.

Then she looked up at me, her tone matter-of-fact.

"Mom, buy me the latest iPhone and iPad. All my classmates have upgraded already. I'm the only one still using the old ones."

In my previous life, I had always felt guilty that she had been sick since childhood, that I owed her too much.

Whatever she wanted, I would do my best to get it, even at my own expense.

To keep her condition stable, I had taken night classes in nutrition.

I had even paid for a private dietitian.

The bland meals she mocked had all been designed for her by that dietitian.

I had poured every dollar and every ounce of energy into Emily.

Meanwhile, I barely scraped by.

I never bought myself new clothes. I wore the same set of pajamas for over a decade.

When she ate, I would claim I wasn't hungry.

After she finished and went back to her room, I would quietly eat whatever she had left behind.

All I wanted was for her to focus on getting better and to grow up without worry.

I never let her see how tight things were.

Yet everything I gave only taught her to take it all for granted.

This time, I would not suffer in silence.

I looked up and spoke slowly.

"Over the years, your medical bills, nutrition costs, and tuition have added up to nearly one hundred eighty thousand dollars."

"Almost every cent of our savings has gone to you. There is no spare money to buy you a brand-new phone and tablet that cost more than three thousand dollars."

"Besides, the phone you're using now was just replaced last year. Why do you need another new one?"

The moment I finished, her face darkened.

"You're lying! You just don't want to spend money on me!"

"Everyone in my class got new phones after graduation, and I'm the only one stuck with this old thing!"

"Last year's model is already outdated. It's embarrassing to even pull it out! Other parents are happy to give their kids the best, but all you do is pinch pennies!"

The more she talked, the angrier she became, her face twisting with resentment as she forgot every sacrifice I had made.

I silently watched her selfish, vicious display.

I watched her selfish, cutting display in silence.

There was nothing more to say.

When she saw I wouldn't budge, she stopped arguing.

She clenched her jaw, grabbed her bag from the couch, and the next second, the door slammed shut with a bang.

She stormed out.