My father invited me to dinner, held my hand, and told his friends, “Meet the girl I love.” I sat there frightened—Until one of his friends said something that made me burst into tears…

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Saturday evening. He never invited me to

 

restaurants, especially not in front of his friends. Even on my birthdays, he usually limited himself to a brief greeting and an

 

 

 

envelope containing money.

 

My father had always provided me with everything, but he had never been affectionate. He didn’t hug me. He didn’t tell mehe loved me. He almost never spoke about my mother either. All I knew was that she had died a few months after I was born.