Novel & Cerita Lies My Father Told Me

I looked at my son, standing barefoot on living soil, listening to a world older than fear and for the first time, I did not know whether I was raising a boy inside a sto ry, or standing at the beginning of something the world itself had been waiting to remember.

"Like I killed someone. But all I did was fall in love! I fell in love with a man who loves me, who treats me like I matter, who makes me happy, and that’s the worst thing in the world to you?" My father’s hand slams against the wooden table beside him, the force rattling the silver tray on top of it. "You don’t get it, do you? You have no idea what you’ve done." "No, Dad, you’re the one who doesn’t get it!" I snap. "You think you can control my life, but you can’t. I’m not a child!" “You have a funny way of showing that.” He steps toward me, and for the first time in my life, I feel real, bone-deep fear of my own father.

My father let out a faint smile, like a fallen leaf drifting down. “Miley, I lived in this book for three years. I used those three years to bring Everdusk Group from debt to IPO. You think it was because of a wife‑blessing system?” His voice stayed calm, as though he spoke about someone else. “It was because I loved you.” “That is gone now.” My mother stood at the door. Her face slowly lost all color. “What are you talking about? What book? What system?” My father did not answer.

“So stop. And don’t call me again complaining. Let Calian handle it.” The call ended. Solyn stared at her phone like it had bitten her. Then she whispered, “Fine.” And walked back inside. Calian was in his study. Solyn didn’t knock. She pushed the door open. Calian was on a call. His gaze snapped to her, irritation flashing. He ended the call immediately. “What?” Solyn folded her arms. “My father just called.” Calian’s expression didn’t change. “And?” “And he scolded me,” Solyn said sharply. “For making your life difficult.”

Those hits from my mother had driven the fish bone deeper. Every breath now felt like torture. My teacher had said that this kind of situation was very dangerous. I crept over to Dad. I was careful and hesitant. With my head lowered, I tugged lightly at his sleeve and managed to force some words out. “Dad, there’s a fish bone stuck in my throat. Can you take me to the hospital?” Dad stared at me. Normally, he would have panicked. Although at this moment, he simply snorted.

"Briana, Dad came to see you. Be good over there, okay?" A gust of wind blew loose one of the daisy petals, carrying it gently onto the gravestone. Dad froze. Slowly, his eyes reddened. He looked up, his voice trembling slightly. "Is that you, Briana?" I looked down at my increasingly transparent body and smiled softly in midair. "Thank you, Dad." Then I turned and walked toward the light. Behind me, the little bouquet of daisies swayed gently in the wind.

“I have been in love, sweetheart. With your father. And it was hard. It was painful. But we fought for it the right way. Not like this. Not sneaking around. Not lying to your family. You need to stop this. For your own good. For all of us.” The conversation ended in tears. I couldn’t take it anymore. I slammed the door behind her as she left, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. I ran to my bed, burying my face in the pillow, and cried until my throat was raw and my eyes burned. The pain was overwhelming — the slap, the words, the separation from Theo. It felt like the world was collapsing around me. I cried until exhaustion pulled me under, drifting into a restless nap filled

I sat back, my eyes fixed on his face, waiting to hear what he would say next. “I remember holding you in my arms for the first time,” my father continued, his voice full of emotion. “You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I felt so lucky to be your father. It was the most amazing feeling in the world.” I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, hearing the story of my birth told through my father's eyes. It was a story I had never heard before, and I was captivated by every word. “Go on,” I urged, not wanting him to stop.

he told me. I did not understand what he was saying. Why would mummy lie to me and tell me that my father was dead? Was my father a bad man? That would be the only explanation. Because if my father was alive, why were mummy and I not living with him? “My mommy will never lie to me. She told me that I am an only child and my father is dead,” I told the man firmly, frowning at him, because I could not stand when somebody said that my mommy was lying. She is the best mother I could ever ask for.

I couldn't help having an outburst, and I buried myself in her embrace as I let out all the stuffed emotions inside me, calling upon my dad as I cried into her arms while she gently stroked my hair, repeatedly saying that all was well. That reminded me about my dad all the more, who formed the habit of always saying ' all is well' after we saw the Indian melodrama ' Three Idiots '. Just like the main character in the movie; Rancho or at least something that sounded like it, dad would always tell me to deceive my heart into believing that all was well, just so that all would eventually become well. But alas, my heart knew the truth down to its last cell. There was no deceiving it and so I cri