After the Last Tear: Rising from the Ashes of a Broken Marriage By Cassila K

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Perhaps it was because he first shared his family stories so openly that I found it easier to speak.

Hesitating, I said,

"My mom passed away, and my dad, like yours, cut ties with me."

That year, at my mom's funeral, a sea of people came, all dressed in black.

The master of ceremonies gave a long eulogy, but I couldn't fully understand it. My mind wandered midway.

I remember looking at my mom's photo, where she seemed to smile at me, and I smiled back.

The next second, I was slapped to the ground by my father.

He roared, "Your mom's dead! How can you still smile?"

Everyone turned to look at me as if I were some kind of monster.

In that moment, I was terrified.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I bit my lips and didn't dare make a sound.

In the first year after my mom's passing, my dad often sat in the living room at night, flipping through her letters and photos.

By the second year, he had packed her belongings into a few boxes and pushed them into a dusty corner.

By the third year, he had remarried.

The new stepmom dumped the boxes into the yard, saying she wanted to burn them all.

I desperately rummaged through the pile and saved the camera, holding it tightly to my chest.

I burned myself in the process.

From then on, the camera became the only thing left of my mom.

Later, my younger sister was born.

The love and attention of the whole family shifted to her.

I grew up as if invisible, turning eighteen without anyone noticing.

I went to college to study medicine.

handed

an adult now.

and counted it-30,000

severed the blood

praised me for being

I could stay calm no matter

started working, this

but only I knew—I was too

day of the funeral,

still have

the years, I've grown used to suppressing

ever laughed freely again or

lose something even more

I let out

heart for so long, had never been shared with anyone

usual faint smile at the corners of

was unusually

were only five years

a

laughing are

yourself because no one

voice was soft, but it struck me like a

dad stopped speaking to me

when my sister was born,

my studies and

moment when I had been cared for

I understood that my tears and laughter didn't matter to

was better to bury

head, I

It's

laugh, or cry

as I finished speaking, a sudden jolt ran through my ribs, like a mild

I let out a strange yelp

Joseph poking

a playful smile, he said,

to dodge, but

there was a switch on my

I tried to

burst out like

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255