My father is a monster. He abandoned me and my mom when I was just a child. She never stopped loving him and always dreamed of reuniting the family, but it wasn’t meant to be. He left us penniless and went off with a young lover who looked more like an older sister to me. I could never forgive him for that, and all these years, I dreamed of revenge.
Then my chance came. The heavens heard me because, many years later, when I had already established a successful career, he came to me for a job interview.
The day started like any other. I was preparing for a series of interviews with potential hires for a senior management position at my company. As I reviewed the resumes, one name stood out, hitting me like a punch to the gut: Arthur Connors. My father’s name.
I had to read the name twice to be sure. My hands trembled slightly as I picked up the phone to verify the interview schedule. Yes, it was him. The man who had abandoned my mother and me all those years ago was about to walk through my office door, not knowing he was stepping into a room with his estranged daughter.
The memories came flooding back — my mother’s tear-streaked face, the empty house, the struggle to make ends meet. The anger I had harbored for so long reignited, burning with the intensity of a thousand suns.
The clock struck ten, and there he was. Arthur Connors, older but still recognizable, entered my office with a nervous smile. He didn’t recognize me at first. Why would he? He had walked out of my life when I was barely seven.
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