No More Meddling: A Bitter Lesson

I closed the chat window and scheduled a medical checkup for the following morning.

Inside her room, Bessie Garcia’s complaints came to an abrupt halt. A moment later, she opened the door. Her face was glowing with excitement.

“Dad, are you serious?”

I nodded calmly.

“Yes. From now on, you can make your own decisions about your life. I won’t interfere anymore.”

She froze for a second.

“You’re not going to take my phone away anymore? I can stay up as late as I want? I don’t have to do my homework if I don’t want to? You’ll even call the school and let me stay home whenever I feel like it?”

She was clearly trying to provoke me because she did not believe a word of it.

After all, any one of those things would have sparked a huge fight between us in the past. It always ended with me forcing her back to her books.

When I said nothing, she gave a dismissive snort.

“Nothing to say now, huh? I knew you were lying! A control freak like you could never just stay out of my life—”

“Sure, as you wish.” I cut her off with a casual tone.

“I meant what I said. From now on, you can do whatever you want.”

The rest of her argument died in her throat. She raked a hand through her hair in frustration, then slammed her bedroom door.

“I’m not buying it!”

I sank back against the couch and took several long minutes to ease the dull ache in my chest.

The future I had just seen made me realize that everything I had sacrificed over the years had been nothing but a cruel joke.

Everything I had done because I thought it was best for Bessie had become a prison in her eyes.

I would not make the same mistake again.

At dinner, Bessie ordered fast food. She let out a few conspicuous coughs before speaking.

“Um… My friend ordered this for me.”

She had a sensitive stomach. Greasy fast food usually sent her running to the bathroom.

I had always been strict about her diet. I had even given up my career to stay home and prepare different healthy meals for her every day, only to end up with her accusing me of being so controlling that I even dictated what she was allowed to eat.

I replied calmly, “Go ahead and eat it. I told you, I’m not going to force you to do anything anymore.”

She stared at me in disbelief. Then, she carried the food back to her room and muttered under her breath, “I’d like to see how long you can keep up this act!”

I let out a bitter smile.

The last time her grades slipped and she got in trouble for talking back to her teacher, she pointed a finger in my face when I confronted her and declared that she did not want a father like me.

I was so furious that I stormed out of the house and swore I would never interfere in her life again.

However, in the middle of the night, I started worrying. Who would wake her up for her test the next morning? What if she ate the wrong thing for breakfast and ended up sick?

At three in the morning, I slunk back home with my tail between my legs.

Ever since then, she became even more certain that I could never really stop looking after her.

Unfortunately for her, this time was different.

Meera Garcia did not come home until eleven. She was reeking of alcohol. She frowned when she heard Bessie playing video games in her room.

“Why is she still gaming at this hour? Are you seriously not going to do anything? The SATs are right around the corner!”

She snapped at me irritably.

“I work myself to the bone to support this family. Is keeping one teenager on track really too much for you?”

She tossed her coat at me.

“Clean this! I need to wear it again tomorrow.”

I dodged and let the coat fall to the floor.

“Clean it yourself. I’m not your servant. Also, Bessie isn’t solely my responsibility. I’ve decided to step back and let her make her own choices. If you want to keep her on track, you can do it yourself.”

Meera stood there in stunned silence.

“What did Bessie do to upset you this time? You’re her father! Stop keeping score with your daughter and acting so petty!”

When I spoke, my voice was ice-cold.

“She’s an adult now. It’s her life. She can make her own decisions.”

I turned toward her. That was when I noticed the bright red hickey on Meera’s neck.

She did not notice me staring at it and merely let out a scornful laugh.

“Fine! You’d better remember what you just said. Don’t start another war in this house later!”

She took off her jewelry and headed toward the guest room.

I sneered and opened Sam Bamber’s profile from the burner account that I used to follow him.

[Reunited with an old flame. She remembers everything I like.]

The photo showed Sam and Meera with their fingers intertwined. Her red lips parted as she pressed herself against his neck. The sight made my stomach turn.

I locked my phone and squeezed my stinging eyes shut as I fought back the tears.

Then, I looked up divorce attorneys and scheduled a consultation.