The scene before me was like a surreal painting, with colors that felt both familiar and strangely out of place. Lili, the woman I was supposed to marry that day, stood at the bus station with her daughter, Emma, and my father. My heart hammered against my chest as I tried to make sense of the image before me. The woman I loved, with my father — it was something my mind struggled to comprehend.
I took a deep breath and approached them cautiously. Lili’s eyes widened when she saw me, and she immediately looked anxious, while my father simply gave me a resigned nod. Emma, oblivious to the tension, waved and smiled, calling out, “Dad!” Her innocent voice felt like a balm on my frayed nerves.
