That afternoon, I went straight to the travel agency and signed up again. The staff said there was one last spot left for next week’s trip.
That night, I cooked two small dishes and opened a bottle of wine. At that moment, Daniel called.
I didn’t want to answer, but he kept calling again and again. The ringtone wouldn’t stop ringing, so I finally picked up.
“Dad, where are you?” he shouted, his voice full of anger and frustration.
I calmly replied, “I went home.”
He didn’t expect that. He went silent for a second, then suddenly raised his voice. “Home? Who told you to go home?”
“You promised yesterday you would stay! You’re not keeping your own words!”
In the background, I could hear Wanda’s sharp voice and Martha’s endless complaining. “How could your dad just leave without saying anything?”
“Yeah! Now I have to order takeout for everyone!”
“Do you know how much that costs? The factory’s losing money because of him!”
Their words were cold and full of accusations, their focus solely on the unexpected increase in expenses.
I almost laughed in disbelief. Even at this moment, that was all they cared about.