Years later, I had a stable job and my own place. Life was finally coming together—until one day, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find my parents standing there, smiling as if nothing had ever happened.
“Hi, darling!” my mother said with a cheerful smile.
I was frozen in shock. After all this time, they had just shown up, expecting to be welcomed back into my life. “Can we stay with you for a while?” they asked, as if the years of abandonment hadn’t left a mark.
I was filled with disbelief and anger. “You want to live with me?” I asked.
They smiled and nodded. “We’re family, and family helps each other, right?”
That was the final straw. I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Where was your sense of family when you left us? When we were struggling without any support?” I asked, my voice shaking with emotion.
My parents looked surprised, but I didn’t stop. I handed them the only thing I had from them—a small amount of money my father had once given me years ago. “I hope this helps you as much as it helped me back then,” I said, and asked them to leave.
As they walked away, I felt a sense of closure. I had faced the past and moved beyond it, ready to continue my life on my own terms.