Chapter 2

I slowly exhaled, stood up, and looked around.

This was the home I lived in before my divorce in my previous life, shared with my daughter, husband, and mother-in-law-a total of four people.

At this moment, my daughter was at school, my husband was away on a business trip, and my mother-in-law had gone out for her daily dance exercise in the park and hadn't returned yet.

The house wasn't large-three bedrooms and a living room.

My mother-in-law occupied one room, my daughter another, and the third was filled with my daughter's piano and books.

My husband, Cory, was always busy with work and rarely came home due to frequent business trips.

Whenever he did, he would stay in the room with my mother-in-law, who would then move to share the largest bed with my daughter.

As for me, I slept on the sofa bed in the living room, which was folded up during the day and pulled out at night, making me feel like an outsider in my own home.

My personal space was reduced to a small compartment in the room with the piano.

Even so, my daughter often complained that my belongings took up too much space and wanted to throw all my clothes out.

The house was supposed to be mine after Cory's affair.

However, Cory and his mistress Erick were cunning, and my mother-in-law added fuel to the fire.

At the time, in order to secure custody of my daughter, I had no choice but to give up the house and leave with nothing, moving with my daughter to a rental apartment close to her school.

My daughter often quarreled with me over this.

She believed the house rightfully belonged to Cory and accused me of dragging her into suffering because I insisted on divorcing.

She frequently accused me of withholding the child support payments, claiming I gave her too little allowance.

But the truth was, Cory never paid a dime in child support.

She thought I was preventing her from seeing Cory because I was afraid he would take her away from me.

In reality, I didn't want her to witness Cory and his mistress Erick's seemingly perfect life after marriage, especially with a long-awaited son on the way, completely disregarding her.

She always thought Cory was the best and adored my mother-in-law as well.

What she didn't know was that Cory and my mother-in-law never approved of me because I had a daughter and failed to continue the family line with a son.

Despite my good intentions being taken for granted, I dedicated half my life to her, only to end up misunderstood and vilified.

It was both tragic and absurd.

But fortunately, I was given a second chance at life.

In this new life, I have the chance to choose my own path.

I called the music store and made a note to sell the new piano at a discounted price.

In my previous life, I spent all the money I painstakingly saved over the years to buy a new piano for my daughter.

Her old piano was too worn out, constantly out of tune, and couldn't be fixed despite numerous repairs.

In six months, she would be participating in a national piano competition, a pivotal moment where she could soar to new heights. I couldn't let a broken piano bury her musical talent.

But what about her?

The carefully selected gift I gave her was casually dismissed.

Since she didn't want it, I decided to take it back.

Just then, my daughter returned from school, her backpack slung over her shoulder.

She was smiling sweetly at her phone, cooing, "I'm home, see you later, brother."

But her smile vanished the moment she saw me, her eyes filled with disdain as if I were something unpleasant she'd rather avoid.

I was standing in the room with the piano when she saw me and shouted, "What are you doing here, you old woman? Are you going to watch me play the piano again? Isn't that disgusting?"

"I've told you, I don't want to play the piano. I don't like it! I refuse! Why do you keep forcing me to play that stupid piano?"

"Other parents are so open-minded, why can't you be? They let their kids watch TV, read novels, and play games after school. I practice piano every day, and yet you still rush me to bed when I want to play a bit more at night!"

Even though I had decided not to interfere with my daughter anymore, her words still pierced my heart like a knife, causing an uncontrollable ache.

I still remembered when she was little and told me she wanted to be a pianist, her eyes filled with dreams.

Cory was unwilling to spend money on her, and my mother-in-law called her a drain on resources.

Only I, under the pressure of the entire family's disapproval, spent a fortune to send her to piano lessons, just to help her fulfill her dream.

And now she says she doesn't like it? That I forced her to play?

I asked her to practice for an hour every night to maintain her skills for the national piano competition, and that was depriving her of freedom?

Encouraging her to practice more and get into a top-tier university, wasn't that for her own good?

She played games until two in the morning, yet had to get up at six for school. Was I wrong to tell her to stop playing and go to bed?

Now, I no longer felt anger, only a deep, chilling disappointment.

I spoke calmly, "You're right. I won't force you to practice the piano anymore."