Get Rid of the Father, Keep the Child

2

Whenever my friends and I get together and talk about our families, they always say I've hit the jackpot in life—the kind of person who must have saved the galaxy in a past life. Sometimes, I think so too.

Quinn Shepherd and I met in high school when he, impeccably dressed, came to my poor, small county to volunteer as a teacher.

Back then, I was like a dry sponge, frantically soaking up new knowledge. I yearned for the bustling cities he described, wanting to see a much wider world for myself.

I'd often run to him and ask for interesting stories about the world outside our county.

Perhaps it was because the longing in my eyes was so intense that he was willing to patiently answer all my questions.

He often encouraged me, saying, "You can definitely get into the university of your dreams."

Back then, I dreamed of going to the same university as him. I adored this older boy who was so kind to me.

Growing up, no one besides the Orphanage Director had ever praised me like that. I saw him as a beacon, guiding my way forward.

We didn't lose touch after he returned to the big city; he was both a mentor and a friend to me.

Later, I got my wish and was accepted into his university. From there, we naturally fell into a relationship.

He took me home to meet his family right after graduation. There was none of the drama you see on TV, no future mother-in-law looking down on an orphan girl. In his parents' eyes, it was only natural for us to get married.

That's precisely why the recurring dreams, which depicted the exact opposite of my life, felt so unsettling. It was as if some subconscious instinct was telling me not to, so I never mentioned anything about them to my husband.

Instead, I went to my best friend, who works as a psychologist.

My friend guessed that my upbringing likely made me insecure, constantly worrying about losing the people and things I care about. She thought I was afraid that everything I have now is just an illusion and that I'll lose all this happiness.

"You've been under too much stress from work lately," she said. "My advice? Just try to relax for a bit. Spend more time with your family."

I took my friend's advice and gave myself a few days off, using the time to take my daughter to visit Grandma Shepherd's house.