****Megan’s POV****I had been in the bathtub for more than an hour, letting the cold water hit my skin while the bath itself did the rinsing, as if that alone could wash away doubt, anger, and memories I no longer wanted clinging to me.The water had gone cold long ago, but I stayed there anyway, curled in on myself, staring at nothing, thinking of everything.Truth was, from the very moment my mother called and asked to meet, I already knew the truth.He sent her.He always did.Still, I wanted to hope. I wanted—just once—to believe my mother had chosen me on her own. I wanted to feel wanted, needed, loved without conditions. I wanted to believe the woman who carried me for nine months had finally remembered she had a daughter.But hope was a dangerous thing.It made you soft.It made you foolish.It made the fall hurt worse.And sometimes, you had to reopen wounds just to make sure they were really healed.Last night, everything I had been suppressing spilled out. The disappointmen
Last Updated : 2025-12-16 Read more