The Day My Daughter Celebrated Chapter 3

I met David Warren at a community book club.

He was gentle, refined, and gave the broken first half of my life the utmost respect and understanding.

We decided to get married.

When I told Stella, she was typing away at her computer.

She didn't even turn around.

"Okay."

Just one word, cold as ice.

I thought she just needed time to adjust.

I was wrong.

The next day, David came over for dinner for the first time.

I'd prepared an elaborate spread.

The doorbell rang. David stood outside with gifts, his smile warm.

"Monica, this is for Stella."

It was the latest tablet computer.

I welcomed him in. Stella emerged from her room.

She looked David up and down, her gaze sharp as a blade.

David seemed nervous, extending the gift.

"Stella, hi. I'm David Warren."

Stella didn't take it. Instead, she crossed her arms and sneered.

"Mr. Warren, excellent taste."

David froze.

"My mom—a nearly forty-year-old housewife with no job, no savings, and me as baggage."

"What exactly attracted you to her?"

Her words were like steel needles, piercing my heart viciously.

David's expression changed, but he maintained his composure.

"Stella, I love your mother. It has nothing to do with external circumstances."

"Really?" Stella's laugh grew more mocking. "That sounds too good to be true."

"With gas prices so high, finding a meal ticket must be tough, right?"

"This house was left by my parents. The moment you walk in, you've saved decades of struggle."

"Such clever calculation. Very mature."

That dinner ended in a frigid atmosphere.

As David left, he said softly, "Monica, don't take it to heart. She's young."

I nodded, but inside I felt like I was drowning in a bitter sea.

After he left, Stella threw the tablet on the floor.

The screen shattered instantly.

"Monica, let me tell you—anyone who wants a piece of my inheritance can forget it!"