A man holding a TV remote | Source: Pexels
All those years. All the “I love yous,” the tender touches, the shared dreams. Every single one of them tainted. Hollow. My father, in his desperate attempt to protect my heart, had utterly shattered it, revealing the monstrous truth: I was not loved freely. I was an expense. And now, the true cost of that expense was finally, horrifyingly, clear.
