Chapter 3
"Wait, what?" Emily stared at me, skeptical, like she couldn't believe I'd actually say something like that.
I repeated myself. "I said, from now on, I won't make you practice piano anymore. And that's not all. I won't make you do anything you don't like, either.
"I won't check your homework, and I won't bug you to go to bed when you're gaming.
"If you want to date, whoever you want, however you want, I won't meddle in your business. I'm not going to control you anymore. Do whatever you like.
"From now on, I'll set you completely free, as you wished."
I spelled it out for her.
She could tell I wasn't saying this out of spite or trying to guilt-trip her. I meant every word.
A smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it.
She asked, "So, I really don't have to go to piano lessons anymore?"
I smiled back, "Of course. I wasn't paying for them anymore."
Her expression shifted a little, as something felt off, but she didn't dwell on it.
Right now, getting what she wanted was all that mattered to her.
"I met a boyfriend online in a game. He says he really loves me, and I'm planning to meet him in person this weekend. You're not going to stop me, are you?" she asked.
I nodded. "Of course, not. Go ahead and chase your true love. I support you."
She mentioned a few more things she wanted, and I agreed to all of them, promising I wouldn't interfere.
Satisfied, she finally went back to her room, tossed her backpack on the floor, flopped onto her bed, and grabbed her phone to play games.
"I'm starving. I want BBQ pork for dinner. Hurry up and make it," she yelled.
I pretended not to hear her, half-reclining on the couch as I messaged my lawyer friend to whip up a divorce agreement. Then I hit print on the home printer.
Richard was coming back from his business trip tonight. It was perfect timing for him to sign it.
As for dinner, whoever felt like cooking could do it. I was ordering takeout to celebrate my fresh start.
After finishing two rounds of her game, Emily came out hungrier than before.
When she saw there wasn't a single grain of rice on the table, she went off on me. "I said I wanted BBQ pork for dinner. Did you not hear me? Are you dumb and deaf or something?"
I kept scrolling through videos, not bothering to look up. "I already told you, I'm not going to take care of you anymore. Whether you're hungry or not is none of my business."
She screamed, "Are you crazy, Helen? If you don't cook, who will?"
I shrugged. "Whoever wants to cook can do it. I'm not doing it."
I could cook for myself. But I refused to cook for the ungrateful wretch.
Just then, the doorbell rang. My dim sum takeout had finally arrived.
Emily watched, stunned and confused, as I grabbed the bags and started opening each container.
It was filled with all kinds of delicious food that I usually couldn't afford to eat to save money.
She slumped down across from me at the table, acting all casual. "So, which one's mine?"
I said, "I ordered this for myself. None for you."
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Then what am I supposed to eat? You're out of your mind, Helen. I knew it. You're using reverse psychology to make me practice piano again. I'm sick of it.
"No wonder Dad doesn't want to come home. Nobody can stand you. Give me some money. I want to go pig out at a seafood buffet."
I picked up a shrimp and ate it with relish. "Your dad's loaded. Go ask him for cash."