My father's expression shifted to something colder. "Good," he said. "Because you won't get anything from me, I've already removed you from my will."
The words were meant to hurt, but I felt nothing.
"I don't care," I said honestly.
"You should," my father replied. "You're throwing away your inheritance, your family, your name, all because of hurt feelings."
"Hurt feelings," I repeated numbly. "You think that's what this is?"
"What else would it be?" he asked.
I looked at him and saw a stranger, not a father, not someone who'd ever loved me, just a man who'd made business decisions and lived with them comfortably.
"You're right," I said quietly. "I am throwing away my family, my name, all of it, but not because of hurt feelings."
I stepped closer, my voice steady now. "I'm doing it
