The Abandoned Heiress,I Was Never Your Second Choice

The desperate longing for family that had burned in my heart, along with my last shred of doubt, scattered in the cold wind.

As my father approached again, I instinctively took half a step back.

He didn't notice anything wrong. He even smiled and said, "You see how kindhearted your dad is? How could I have possibly abandoned you just because you had oxygen deprivation at birth and were a little slow as a child?"

"It was the creditors—they were relentless. We were afraid you'd get hurt."

"Ah!" He sighed heavily.

Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

But I no longer felt moved. Only silence remained.

He grabbed my hand.

Yet I couldn't feel the warmth and safety I remembered from childhood.

We entered the hospital room.

Mom immediately pulled me into her arms, her delicate hands stroking my frostbitten, cracked, rough cheeks.

Her eyes were red from crying as she blamed my father. "This is all your fault—investing blindly with those people, racking up all that debt. Otherwise, why would our daughter have suffered like this?"

Ten years later, when we reunited at the school gate, she had held me just as tightly.

She had cried just like this.

I had almost believed every word.

"Honey, what are you standing there for? Give our daughter that beef and rib congee."

Mom shot Dad a look and pointed at the thermos on the table.

I froze.

That thermos was the one I had just dropped outside the hospital room door.

"It was left over from the patient next door. I couldn't bear to eat it myself."

Mom wiped her tears and smiled.

I was speechless.

They gave Cynthia every luxury.

But they picked up dirty congee from the floor to feed me.

And acted so loving while doing it.

Was I really that worthless in their eyes? Did I not deserve even one decent thing?

When Dad lifted a spoonful of congee to my lips, I didn't drink it. I just shook my head and said I wasn't hungry.

They didn't scold me. Instead, they asked with concern if I was feeling unwell, if that was why I had no appetite.

That afternoon, Mom checked out of the hospital.

She said staying was too expensive. She needed to save money for my tuition.

She said as long as I was happy, everything was worth it.

Home was a tiny rented room.

No heating. No air conditioning. The windows didn't even seal properly against the wind.

Honestly, I didn't care about any of that.

I just wanted a home.

For one fleeting moment, I thought the parental love I'd lost had finally returned.

I thought I could act spoiled.

I thought I had arms to lean on.

In the end, I still had nothing.

This wasn't the reunion I had longed for.

So standing at the doorway, I gathered my courage and said to my parents, "I... I want to go back to the orphanage."

They both froze, then their eyes turned red.

"We're sorry, Cecilia. We were wrong before. No matter how hard things got, we should never have abandoned you."

"Will you give us one more chance? We swear we'll take good care of you."

"We searched so hard to find you. If we had to be separated again, I... I don't know how I'd go on living."

Mom held me tight, tears streaming down her face as she pleaded.

"This is all my fault!"

Dad raised his hand and slapped himself across the face. "I was such a fool back then!"

"Cecilia, just give us a little more time. Let us prove our love for you, okay?"

The red marks from his fingers stood out clearly on his cheek.

That guilt didn't look fake.

I bit my lip. My heart softened. Maybe they really did have their reasons?

"Mom. Dad."

"Family shouldn't keep secrets from each other. So I don't want you hiding anything from me."

Ignoring their startled expressions, I walked into the apartment.

Tomorrow was New Year's Eve.

It was also the last chance I would give them.