Fatherhood, Too Late Chapter 1

My valedictorian daughter died tragically on her way to a part-time job, while my impoverished husband threw a lavish graduation party for his comrade’s widow’s son. For eighteen years of marriage, my husband had drained our entire fortune, incurring millions in debt, all to treat his fallen comrade’s son. To pay off his debts, I worked myself to the bone, ceaselessly earning money. Even my daughter, the top student, juggled five part-time jobs. Yet, on her way to one of those jobs, she was struck by a horrific car accident. Her head was fractured, her abdomen ruptured, and she desperately needed a massive sum for medical care.

“Mom,” she whispered, her last breath ragged, “I don’t want treatment. I miss Dad.”

In my despair, I called Mark Carter a hundred times, but there was no answer. When I rushed to his "workplace," I found him throwing a grand graduation banquet for someone else’s son.

“Mr. Carter presents a beachfront mansion, congratulating Young Master Leo Miller on his brilliant success!”

“Mr. Carter presents a luxury car, wishing Young Master Leo Miller smooth sailing and a boundless future!”

“Mr. Carter presents an unlimited black card, wishing Young Master Leo Miller health and freedom from all ailments!”

I watched my husband embrace Sarah Miller, his comrade’s widow, on stage. I dialed his number for the 101st time. “Our daughter… she wants to see you one last time.”

“Eve, I’m busy with work right now. You and Ella be good, just wait a little longer…”

Hearing Mark’s impatient hang-up, the dial tone buzzing in my ear, I slowly lowered my phone.

Mark, our daughter won’t be waiting for you. And neither will I.

Walking out of the banquet hall, the hospital’s death certificate arrived. My brilliant, sensible daughter, only eighteen, had left this world forever. My heart was shattered, and I wept until I fainted. My daughter, who only wanted to help ease our family’s financial burden, had been struck down, her body broken beyond recognition. And the father she longed to see in her final moments was, at that very second, celebrating a lavish graduation party for his comrade’s child.

I forced myself to see Ella one last time, then sat by the river for what felt like an eternity, until a dazzling display of fireworks erupted across the night sky. Instinctively, I reached for my phone, wanting to snap a picture for Ella—she had always loved fireworks, but she was too considerate to ever ask for them. The fireworks burst across the heavens, blindingly brilliant, and then, amidst the vibrant explosions, a picture coalesced: Mark Carter, Sarah Miller, his comrade’s widow, and her son, Leo Miller.

【Congratulations, Leo, on your graduation!】

This was their true family of three. I stared, transfixed, as the image hung in the air. My phone slipped from my grasp, and the dam of suppressed emotions burst.

Years ago, Mark had drained our savings and plunged us into deep debt, all to treat his comrade's son. For this family, to pay off that debt, I had toiled day and night, my face sallow, etched with premature wrinkles. Even Ella juggled five part-time jobs, working alone as a restaurant waitress, silently enduring a broken rib from a drunk patron. Yet, the money my daughter and I had worked ourselves to death to save was barely a fraction of what Mark spent on Leo’s extravagant fireworks display.

I sank to the ground, sobbing, gasping for air, and then a violent wave of nausea overwhelmed me. I retched uncontrollably. The dazzling fireworks above, once a symbol of joy, now felt like sharp blades, endlessly slicing at my heart.

Late that night, I returned home. Mark’s voice drifted from our shabby rental apartment. “Mark, you’ve been pretending to be poor at home for me and Leo. If Eve ever finds out the truth, will she resent us?”

Mark’s tone was indifferent, as if discussing something trivial. “No. She and Ella already have my love. A little hardship is nothing.”

“Leo’s father saved my life all those years ago. I’ll never forget that debt. Now that Leo’s graduated, I’ll take good care of them, mother and son.”

I stood at the doorway, the death certificate clutched in my hand, my fingers trembling violently, my nails almost digging into my flesh.