He looked at me like I was supposed to be grateful, like this was charity. Then he added, “Don’t overthink it. The one I love will always be Celine, but considering our five years of friendship, I can guarantee you a life without financial worries.”
Arrogance oozed from every word. Just like when he humiliated me at the bar. Was this how he saw me? A beggar who would cry tears of joy over a little favor?
Maybe I used to be like that. I would have done anything for my dad. But not anymore. Not now.
I didn’t respond. Argus threw the letter down and said, “Sign it and bring it to my company.” Then he left, walking away like he owned the world.
I laughed, bitter and broken, and tore the letter into pieces. Then I called the police and reported Celine by name.
The clock struck midnight. I looked at the calendar and the grandfather clock in the corner. In ten hours I’d be free.
I packed my bag, took a hot shower, and went to the cemetery before leaving. I buried my dad’s urn, knelt in front of his tombstone, and kowtowed three times. All the years of suppressed emotions spilled out and I sobbed openly.
“Dad, I’m going to live for real now. If you could see me, I hope you’d be proud.”
A firefly landed on my finger, its faint light on the photo of him. I imagined his gentle smile and warm eyes. I lay my head against the stone, thinking of all the times he’d comforted me. “Our Dahlia is grown now. Why are you still crying?”
I slept there through the night. When I woke, sunlight was spilling across the ground. My future was waiting.
My phone buzzed. A wedding invitation from Celine. And a message from the Public Security Bureau: My case was being investigated.
I smiled for the first time in years. I deleted the wedding invitation and blocked every way Celine and Argus could contact me.
Half an hour later I was on a plane. Once we broke through the clouds, the tension in my body finally released. I whispered to myself, Never see you again. I made my wish.
Mountains and rivers might separate us, but from now on, I am free.
