{"id":20903,"date":"2025-11-26T03:18:03","date_gmt":"2025-11-26T03:18:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/readmore.cx\/?p=20903"},"modified":"2025-11-26T03:18:03","modified_gmt":"2025-11-26T03:18:03","slug":"20903","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/readmore.cx\/?p=20903","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet meeting the cold hardwood. My knees trembled as I walked to the kitchen, the silence of the pre-dawn house pressing against my ears. I poured a glass of water, my hands shaking so badly the liquid sloshed over the rim. I sat at the small breakfast table, dropped my head into my hands, and closed my eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

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And there he was again. My father.<\/span><\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t the frail, sickness-ravaged man he had been at the end. He was the Titan of my childhood\u2014broad-shouldered, stern-faced, wearing the gray wool sweater I had knitted for his sixtieth birthday. He stood in the doorway of my mind, his eyes piercing through the haze of sleep.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLiv,\u201d he said. His voice wasn\u2019t a whisper; it was a command. \u201cDon\u2019t wear the dress from your husband. You hear me? Don\u2019t wear that dress.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He repeated it three times, his gaze never wavering, before dissolving into the shadows.<\/span><\/p>\n

I opened my eyes, staring at the microwave clock blinking 5:00 AM.\u00a0<\/span>Don\u2019t wear the dress.<\/span>\u00a0It was absurd. It was just a dream, born of stress and the milestone birthday looming over me like a storm cloud. Tomorrow, I would be fifty. Half a century.<\/span><\/p>\n

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I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet meeting the cold hardwood. My knees trembled as I walked to the kitchen, the silence of the pre-dawn house pressing against my ears. I poured a glass of water, my hands shaking so badly the liquid sloshed over the rim. I sat at…<\/p>\n

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