Love Long Gone

When my mom heard that, she shot up from her seat. Her face turned ugly.

"Have you lost your mind?" she snapped. "You'd curse your own father like that? He was always so good at playing the victim. There's no way he'd just die. Did he go into hiding again? Did he put you up to saying this?"

I just stared at her coldly. "If you don't believe me, go find him yourself. Go ahead and dig him up if you can."

She searched my face, looking for any sign that I was lying.

But I never looked away.

Slowly, the fight drained out of her. She muttered, "Don't come crying to me later," and walked out.

After she left, the manager came over. "Hey... why don't you head home for today. As for the restaurant..."

He didn't finish. I already understood. I packed up my things quietly and went back to my apartment alone.

When I got home, I pushed the door open.

My father's portrait sat quietly on the side table. Next to it were white chrysanthemums.

I walked over and touched his face in the photo.

The tears just spilled out.

"Dad... if I'd been able to make more money... would you still be alive?"

I sat down on the floor and held the portrait against my chest. My mind filled with those last few days, three years ago.

The doctor said my dad could have surgery. But we had to pay 50 thousand dollars first.

That was our last chance. If we could get the money together, he would live.

I did just about anything to raise it.

One night, my mom's car drove past me at a night market. She saw me. I know she did.

But she didn't get out. She just sent her assistant down to buy up all the flowers I was selling.

I stood there watching the car drive away. And I actually thought, for one stupid second, that maybe she'd finally softened a little.

The next morning, Caleb stormed into the hospital.

He slapped me across the face. "Shameless. Your dad stole my woman, and now, you're playing the pity card too?"

He didn't bother to lower his voice. The whole floor heard him. He called my dad a homewrecker. He called me a bastard.

Everyone was staring at me.

I was shaking with rage. I screamed at him, "You're the homewrecker!"

He took his time. Cool as anything, he pulled out two marriage certificates and waved them in my face.

"Your dad's was fake. These are real. I'm Sarah's legal husband."

I lunged forward to get a better look.

But he let out a scream and tumbled down the stairs all by himself. "Sarah, help me! Your son is trying to kill me!"

And then she was there.

The next thing I knew, she kicked me so hard I flew down the stairs. My ears rang like they were splitting open.

But she never even looked at me. Her eyes were full of disgust. She scooped up Caleb and ran straight to the emergency room without a glance back.

I picked up that card off the floor like it was my last lifeline.

But right before the surgery, the nurse told me the card had no money on it.

I stood there at the window, my mind completely blank.

I don't remember how I made it back to my dad's ward.

My dad was weak. He could barely hold my hand. But he still tried to smile for me. He touched my face and told me not to be afraid.

He said once he got better, he would take me abroad. Far away from all of this.

He said he promised to spend every birthday with me. Forever.

I was crying. "I won't let you die, Dad. I'll get the money. I promise."

I went to the black market. I signed papers to sell my organs. I would have sold anything if it meant saving him.

When I got back to the hospital, the doctors and nurses were crowded around his door.

I pushed through.

My dad was lying there. He wasn't breathing anymore.

That was three years ago.

For three years, I've carried his picture everywhere, never letting it out of my sight.

And now, Sarah shows up and says she wants to see him.

I held my father's portrait and sobbed until I couldn't breathe.

"Dad... I miss you so much. I'm taking you away. I won't let her find you."

I don't know how long I cried.

Then I heard a key turning in the lock.

My head snapped up.

My mom was standing in the doorway.

Her eyes moved past me to Dad's portrait and the white flowers.

Her face went white as a sheet.