As Elena entered her father and mother's home, the night was filled with the strong aroma of spices and simmering soup. With her focus on business, she hadn't been attending her own family dinners as frequently as she had in the past, but she had made an effort tonight. Her father's implied disapproval of her absences hung over her as she entered, but he greeted her with a nod and led her into the dining room, where the desk was already set with her mother's first-class china.
"Ah, Elena!" Her mother's face lighted up, and she approached with an apron tied around her waist. "You seem exhausted. All this work must be exhausting. "Come, take a seat, and eat something."
Elena forced a bright smile and gave her mother a short hug, glad for the love, even though her eyes showed signs of anxiety. Samuel arrived shortly after, offering her an easygoing grin and pulling out a chair near him, their customary location. She nestled in, feeling the familiar pull of the circle of relatives' expectations and questions that would undoubtedly follow.
As they moved across the dishes, Elena's father, George Zhang, cleared his throat, a signal she recognized all too well.
"Elena," he said, his gaze focused on her, "I notice you've been spending a lot of time at the office. Work is fine, but you aren't growing any younger, you understand."
The subtle dig wasn't intended for each individual. Her father's eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned in, his voice lowering as if communication was somehow personal, regardless of who was listening across the table.
"That Matthews lad," he insisted, "seems engaged. It's time to remember that your destiny is more than just paintings, don't you think?"
Elena took a deep breath and steadied herself. "Baba, my career takes precedence now," she remarked, trying to maintain a respectful yet businesslike tone.
Samuel gave her a quick, surprised gaze across the desk. "Because it's been a while?" he inquired, his tone calm but curious.
She gave him a glance, silently wishing he would keep out of it, but her father had grasped the opportunity, his frown deepening.
"Career is good, but you are still a lady, Elena," he continued, his voice heavy with history. "Family, stability—these things must be important to you." "They are the ultimate."
Elena fought the impulse to sigh, a familiar dissatisfaction boiling behind her cool demeanor. "I understand that, Baba," she replied, choosing her words carefully. "However, I have to do it for myself. "I want to reap something and build something that is mine."
Her father shook his head, clearly dubious. "You build something by raising your own family and being with someone who can support you, rather than by working every day. I believe you understand that."
She should feel her mother's gentle and hesitant glance, as if she were torn between supporting her husband and wanting to understand her daughter's goals. Her father's old-world beliefs conflicted with her present perspective, and while having fought this fight before, this night felt much more difficult. She was creating a life that her father could not comprehend, one that did not revolve around marriage or motherhood.
Elena turned to Samuel, seeking his silent encouragement. As an alternative, she noticed him closely studying her, a subtle concern in his expression. He hadn't asked her about her sudden force or change, but she knew the questions were there.
"What changed, Elle?" he questioned softly, trying to get past the anxiousness. "You never used to position work first like this."
Elena hesitated, her mind racing. How would she explain the intensity that drives her now, the sense of purpose fashioned from the ashes of a past she is resolved not to repeat? She couldn't show the truth, not the simplest model she recalled, the past that had damaged her but made her stronger.
"I just realized I've been preserving again," she added at the end, choosing her words carefully. "I had to prove to myself that I could be a hit on my own phrases."
Samuel nodded, but his eyes had a hint of hesitation, as if he realized there was more she wasn't saying. Before he could press any further, her father cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation back to his original topic.
"Elena," he whispered softly this time, "I need whatever is pleasurable for you. Marriage is not a burden; it is a partnership that provides motivation and structure. That Matthews boy is promising, ambitious, and looks to respect you. I assume he wants to make you extremely happy."
The mention of Ryan caused her pulse to accelerate. Her father didn't recognize the half of it.The twisted records and the pain. However, even here, years before everything went wrong, she felt the dread sneaking in, a reminder of a life she was choosing to recreate differently.
"Baba, I know you mean well," she remarked, her tone steady. "However, I have other desires now. I need to do things for myself, without anyone else's help."
Her father shook his head, clearly dissatisfied. "You are stubborn, Elena. On occasion, I get too cussed out. But in the future, you'll realize that what I'm saying is true. A vocation by itself does not constitute a lifestyle. "A family does."
She accepted his look with a sorrowful heart. She deeply respected her father, but his principles felt like chains around her lower back, reminding her of everything she had become in order to escape. Even though she loved him, she couldn't let his expectations limit her options.
Samuel broke the stillness with a soft but critical voice. "Allow her parent it out, Baba. What really matters is Elena's happiness, right?"
Her father muttered, still skeptical, but he appeared willing to let the communication rest. Elena smiled gratefully at Samuel, feeling relieved. Own family dinners had always come with a lot of expectations, and this night was no exception. She wouldn't let them sway her; her path was her own.
Her father pulled her apart after supper, his voice softer, the intensity in his gaze difficult to ignore.
"Elena," he began, his tone softening, "I do not mean to strain you, but I need you to feel fulfilled. "You can't go through lifestyles by yourself."
She seemed to drift away, absorbing the weight of his words. In his own way, he was attempting to protect her, to ensure she did not become isolated, giving everything for ambition alone. However, he was unaware of the pain she had endured, the treachery that had led her to this point.
"I realize, Baba," she whispered softly. "However, I need you to consider me. "This is what I want."
He sighed, his face covered in anxiety. "I just wish you don't regret it."
The words stung, but she nodded, unable to find an answer that could repair the gap between them. He couldn't see her side, couldn't see the life she was committed to create. Even though it hurt, she knew she couldn't let his doubts penetrate into her coronary heart.
Samuel led her to her car that night, palms shoved in his pockets and a thoughtful expression on his face.
"You virtually meant what you said again there," he murmured, a tiny smile pulling at his lips.
She lifted her eyebrow at him. "Why wouldn't I?"
He shrugged. "I do not realize. You appear unique and driven. "It's like something lit a fire in you."
Elena let out a small giggle as she looked out into the night. Perhaps it did. Perhaps I eventually realized I'd been living for everyone else but myself."
Samuel looked at her for a moment, nodding slowly. "Properly, anything is kilometers away; it's fine to gaze. "Just don't burn yourself out, okay?"
She smiled, thankful for his guidance, even if he didn't entirely understand. "I will be cautious, Sam. Promise."
He nodded, but his gaze stayed on her, that same spark of subject still gift. "Just don't forget," he whispered quietly, "your own family is always available if you need it."
"I know," she said softly. "thank you, Sam."
As she watched him walk back inside, she felt both comforted and sad. She was aware that she couldn't fully explain her motivation to him or her father. They perceived her ambition as something new, something they could avoid. However, to her, it became a lifeline, a way to reclaim her destiny, a motivation built within the agony she alone remembered.
Her father's words echoed in her mind as she drove domestic. Family, stability, and structure were all things she formerly cherished but no longer desired. She began to create her lifestyle in a new way, aiming to be strong and self-sufficient.
However, as she repeated this, a sliver of uncertainty emerged, a small voice uttering the question she refused to entertain.
Is he right? evolved into her cutting herself off from something that truly matters?
The idea persisted, plaguing her as she drove through the silent streets, headlights blazing a path through the dark.
As she parked and entered her rental, she felt solitude surround her, filling every space. It became a decision she had made, and one she believed in. However, when she looked at her mirrored image, alone and quiet in the faint light, she
wondered if there was a truth hidden in her father's words that she had not yet acknowledged.