I stood there, staring at the screen that displayed my father’s face, his expression a mixture of regret and anticipation. The years of distance felt like a wall between us, reinforced by each painful memory, each dismissive comment, and the glaring differences in how my sister and I had been treated. Yet, here they were, standing at the threshold of a life they never believed I could build.
My thumb hesitated over the “Open Gate” button, a simple motion with the potential to unravel two years of hard-won peace. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, a steady rhythm that matched the distant bleating of goats and the rustle of lavender swaying in the gentle breeze.
“This is your choice now,” I reminded myself. I had carved out this life with determination and grit, learning to nurture not just the land but also my self-worth. Letting them in could mean reopening wounds that had just begun to heal.
