Chapter 2Quit Competing for Love, Parents Regret

Back in my room, I opened my calendar.

Forty-three days until the semester began.

I took a red marker and drew a small 'X' over today’s date.

Every day was a countdown to my escape.

I looked around the room. Every piece of furniture was expensive, imported, and utterly soulless. It looked like a showroom in a luxury catalog, not a home.

To me, it couldn't compare to the drafty, creaky farmhouse my foster parents owned. That place was freezing in winter and sweltering in summer, but it was filled with the warmth of life.

In the fifteen years of my past life, I drained all my passion and hope within these cold walls.

I learned etiquette, forced myself to get perfect grades, gave up the major I loved, and even married into a strategic alliance they chose—all to beg for a scrap of warmth from my "family."

And what did I get?

My parents' exasperated sighs: "Sophia, why can't you be effortless like Minkie?"

My sister’s gaslighting: "Mom, Dad, don't blame Sophie. She just cares too much about what you think."

My husband’s cold indifference: "Sophia, aside from your last name, is there anything about you that actually belongs in this world?"

And finally, my son’s rejection.

I died of illness caused by decades of depression. I fought for a lifetime, only to be detested by everyone.

The phantom sensation of suffocation still lingered in my chest.

This time, I won't fight.

Your love, your company, your picture-perfect trio...

I want none of it.

I only want myself.

The next morning, when I went downstairs, the living room was filled with laughter.