From Unwanted To Dominator: Her Comeback! Chapter 13

From Unwanted To Dominator: Her Comeback! Chapter 13

Chapter 13 I’m Going to Be a Good Mom

After our blowout, there was no pretending anymore. The mask was off-for good.

She’d always been too proud to take criticism. And just then? The one calling her out was the very daughter she’d spent a lifetime looking down on.

So she went straight to the rumor mill: told everyone I was ungrateful, disrespectful-a “bad daughter” who’d turned her back on family.

“You only have one daughter, right? I’ve never even heard you mention a younger one!”

“Your daughter married out of state and didn’t come back even when you were sick. Honestly, that’s not very filial. If you ask me, raising a kid like that is a waste.”

Everyone assumed they were talking about Jasmine-because in their world, I had never existed.

Claire realized it too. In that moment, she finally understood why I couldn’t forgive her.

She came to apologize again.

“Annie, I’m so sorry-it’s all my fault. Please forgive me. I had it so hard as a kid… that’s why I treated you the way I did. My mom had four kids. I was the oldest, and everyone always favored the younger ones. No one cared how I felt. They just made me take care of my brothers and sisters. When the little ones messed up, I got blamed. I was terrified Jasmine would end up just like me. Annie, you’ve always been the understanding one. You get it-you understand my fear, don’t you?”

“Then why did you think it was okay to hurt me to heal your inner child? In the end… what’s the difference between you and Grandma?”

I didn’t respond to her hysterical shouting. I just hung up.

No amount of “reasons” could erase the damage she’d already done.

After that, she never called again. Our contact dwindled to birthday texts and holiday gifts-polite, distant,

empty.

Jasmine, her favorite, was completely absorbed in chasing love. No matter how hard life got, she never returned to Jinglu City.

In that huge house, it was just the two of them-her and Dad-leaning on each other.

The pain of my childhood hadn’t made me lose hope in love.

I got married at 27.

My boyfriend-now my husband-was a man of quiet kindness.

He knew about my painful childhood, and never once pressured me to reconcile with my family of origin.

My husband asked how many kids I was planning to have.

“Maybe two,” I said. “They’d have each other growing up.”

I refused to be like Claire-projecting the wounds of my childhood onto my own children.

I’m going to be a good mom-and yeah, I can totally love two kids at the same time.