Defiance

The day my mother died, my father brought his old flame and her son into our home.

His old flame cheerfully busied herself getting their rooms ready.

The man stood ramrod straight, his expression cool and unconcerned.

I curled up in a corner in misery, until my father dragged me out and ordered me to greet them. When I refused, he hit me.

Ten years later, the man’s eyes were bloodshot as he knelt on the ground, holding my mother. His whole body radiated despair.

“Was all of this an act?”

I smiled faintly and leaned close to his ear.

“It was only a game. Why take it seriously?”

“I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”