The evening began harmlessly. A family dinner, the kind that comes all too rarely.

Your siblings, the old house and the familiar smell of your father's cooking.

Lando, your husband, sits quietly next to you, his hand resting on your thigh, as you all gather around the table.

Then the doorbell rings.

When your father opens the door, you feel it immediately. The air changes and all the conversation stops.

And there she is.

Your mother.

The woman who left you all those years ago.

Just gone, without explanation, without saying goodbye.

She enters hesitantly, her gaze wandering from face to face until it finally settles on your little sister.

9 years old. A child she doesn't even know.

"I've missed you, sweetie." She says quietly, her voice trembling. "I want you back." She looks at your little sister.

Her voice is soft, as if she could turn back time.

As if all those lost years had never happened.

The words hit you like a punch in the face.

You slowly stand up, your eyes filling with tears and your voice is shaky but steady.

“You don’t get to abandon your kids and then show up one day to take your pick of the litter!” Your voice trembles, heavy with anger and pain.

“You left us. You left her.” You point to your little sister, who is staring silently at her plate.

“Oh, now, that’s not fair. Your mother’s made mistakes, but she’s here now. That’s got to count for something." Your father says.

You turn to him abruptly.

“Shut up, Frank! This isn’t about you.”

Slowly, you turn back to your 'mother.'

Her eyes are full of apologies, but you're no longer the little child you once were.

“This is about you. This is about what you didn’t do.” You stare at her as a single tear runs down your cheek.

“It’s about what I did. And you know what? I did a fucking great job!” You point to yourself, your voice wild and proud.

Lando slowly rises next to you and places his hand on your lower back.

“Do you wanna leave?” He asks softly.