Since Alma was planning to send some stuff over, bailing right away wasn't really an option. I'd already stressed her out enough with the procedure, and I didn't want to pile on by adding my separation from Ronald to her worries. She'd always been so good to me.

Later that evening, Ronald came home, but he was totally silent—didn't even look my way. He went straight into his usual routine: washing up, then bed. I kept telling myself not to let his behavior get to me, but I couldn't shake that sting of resentment. Wasn't he the one who cheated?

In the days after, the tension between Ronald and me only got worse. We dodged each other like the plague, and on the rare occasion we had to talk, the awkwardness was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It left me constantly on edge.

One day, I heard rustling at the door, and in walked Alma, lugging a big bag of health supplements.

"Colette, sweetheart, I was so worried about you, I just had to come see for myself," she said, her voice all warmth.

I rushed over to help, grabbing the bags and guiding her to the sofa. "What are you doing coming all this way? You know your health is fragile. You should be resting out in the countryside, not wearing yourself out with a trip like this."

She waved a hand, her usual lively spark still bright. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just really worried about you."

She sighed, taking my hand in hers, her voice thick with concern. "Colette, honey, did you tell your father about the procedure? You really should let him know. It's not exactly a small thing."

Then she started in on Ronald. "And that son of mine! You go through something this serious, and he's nowhere to be found. I swear, I need to have a serious talk with him..."

I nodded, turning her words over in my mind. "Please don't blame Ronald. He's just been really busy."

Even though what Ronald did was unforgivable in my eyes, I didn't want to drag Alma into our mess. We chatted a bit more, and then she left, looking satisfied now that she'd checked on me.

After she was gone, I grabbed my phone and stared at my dad's number, my thumb hovering over the button for a long moment before I finally hit call.

He sounded thrilled to hear my voice. I kept it casual, just mentioned I'd had a rough patch recently and told him to take care of himself. Then I hung up before he could ask too many questions.

A while later, the doorbell rang again. I opened the door—and there was my dad, standing on my doorstep.

"Dad? What are you doing here?" I blurted out, totally shocked, quickly pulling him inside. "You came all this way alone? That's so dangerous. Your illness is serious—the doctors told you not to travel by yourself. What if something had happened?"

Dad looked almost sheepish as he nodded. "Don't worry, Colette. I just wanted to see you. I'll head back before long."

"I'm okay. Sure, I'm a little under the weather, but I made it here just fine," he assured me, cradling the warm cup of coffee I'd handed him.

I shook my head, half-laughing in disbelief. "You're something else, Dad. Why did you show up all of a sudden?"

He let out a heavy sigh. "I was worried about you."

He looked me over, his eyes full of scrutiny. "Have you been taking care of yourself? A miscarriage really takes a toll..."

"It's because I wasn't a good father—I couldn't protect my own daughter. You've been through so much because of me, putting up with all this hardship. If I weren't sick, you wouldn't have been pushed around. That Ronald, he's just—"

Seeing him get more and more worked up, I quickly cut in. "Dad, it was just a tragic loss. Ronald had nothing to do with it. Please don't get upset—it's bad for your health."

That seemed to calm him down a little, but he still looked unconvinced, his jaw set with determination to defend me. "You don't have to sugarcoat things for me. I know you're trying to protect me, but I can't just sit here while you're hurting. I'll make sure you get justice!"

I was stunned. I couldn't meet his eyes, so I looked down at the floor.

Dad raised me all on his own, always fighting to provide, no matter how tough things got. I didn't want him worrying about me anymore.

The first time I met Ronald, he jumped in to defend me, and I was a total goner right then and there. But he never gave me a second glance—he treated me just like everyone else. He clearly had no feelings for me, always keeping his distance. Maybe sticking up for me was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, no big deal. So, I took the hint and kept my own distance. To me, he was this untouchable dream, forever out of reach.

Even now, I'm still not entirely sure why Ronald chose me.

"Honey, if you're miserable here, just come home with me. We'll go back to our little place. I'm done with the hospital—this sickness is dragging on forever and it's just not worth treating," Dad's voice cut through my thoughts.

"Dad, don't talk like that. We will find a way to treat your illness. I swear, I'm not going to let myself suffer or be unhappy anymore. I just want you to get better, so please... work with me, okay?"

I squeezed his hand tight. "You must be starving. Let me fix you something to eat. Just hang on a sec."

Dad let out a sigh. "Fine, fine. I get it."

That put my mind at ease for the moment. I hurried off to the kitchen to whip up some food. But soon, I caught the sound of the door—Ronald was back.

When Ronald stepped inside, he spotted my dad right away and stopped short. "Dad? What, uh, brings you here all of a sudden?"

Dad completely ignored him, turning his head away with a huff.

I stepped out of the kitchen just in time to catch that.

The moment he saw me, Dad stood up. "Sweetie, I don't think I can stomach anything right now. I'm just gonna head back."

"Have you given any thought to coming home with me? I don't see anyone around here taking good care of you. You'd be so much better off back home."

"Don't worry. As long as I'm around, Colette will be well taken care of. You have nothing to worry about," Ronald cut in before I could even open my mouth.

"Yeah, Dad… I'm doing fine here, really."

It hit me then—for my dad's health, I couldn't walk away.

Dad let out a sigh, said his goodbyes, and took off.

My heart sank. He'd come all this way, and I'd been hoping to make him a home-cooked meal.

"What's your game, dragging Dad all the way out here?" Ronald walked right up to me, his eyes locked on mine, questioning me.