When My Stepmother Mistook Me for a Mistress, My Father Went Mad

On the day of my dad's second marriage, I begged him to visit my grandma's grave, but my stepmom mistook me for a mistress.

She barged into the cemetery with a large group, all in the name of "getting rid of homewreckers."

"Still denying you're seducing someone else's man?

"Fine, today I'll show your mom what happens to a worthless daughter who can't keep her hands off other men."

Like a pack of savages, they smashed my grandma's headstone.

They forced me to kneel, humiliated me in every way possible, and beat me.

Just as I was on the verge of collapse, my dad appeared in front of me.

With the last of my strength, I looked up at him.

"This time... she won't be able to give you her blessing."

...

My dad had already asked thirteen people to tell me he was getting married.

Despite not having spoken to him for years out of stubbornness, I decided to return home to give my blessing.

The man who always seemed so powerful in the news came to the airport himself to pick me up.

He awkwardly shoved keys and a bank card into my hand.

"This time, don't leave. I bought you two villas. Since you studied makeup abroad, how about I start a company for you? Just for fun, huh?"

I stayed silent the entire ride.

When we got to the hotel entrance, I didn't get out. I looked straight at him.

"No need. I still feel more at home in Grandma's house."

The moment he heard Grandma's name, his expression changed.

"Gianna, I know I was wrong back then, but thank you for coming today. Please give me a chance to make it up to you both."

Since today was his big day, I didn't want to ruin it for him.

After thinking it over, I softened my tone.

"Dad, I've done fine these past few years. I don't need anything. What you really need is Grandma's forgiveness and her blessing."

He avoided my gaze.

"She hasn't wanted to see me in years. There's no way she'd forgive me, let alone give me her blessing."

I wanted to talk a bit more, but people kept calling him to get ready for the ceremony.

Forget it.

"Go take care of things. I'll go visit Grandma, and I'll send you the location. You can speak to her yourself then."

He rubbed his hands nervously, like a child who'd done something wrong. Finally, he lifted his head firmly.

"Alright, Gianna, just say a good word for me with her. Otherwise, I'm afraid she won't see me."

It wasn't that Grandma wouldn't see him. Grandma had passed away long ago.

In her will, she specifically stated that Dad was not to know where she was buried.

It had been years since I'd come back, and the city had changed drastically.

I still remember where Grandma rested.

It was a cemetery that no longer appeared on any maps.

The area around Grandma's headstone was overgrown with grass.

I knelt down and pulled each weed out by hand.

"I'm sorry, Grandma. I haven't come to visit you in so many years."

After ten minutes, the area in front of the grave was clean.

I placed Grandma's favorite chrysanthemums in front of the headstone and broke down, unable to stop my tears.

The memories from five years ago came flooding back.

That day, when she wrote her will, she was still of sound mind.

My stubborn grandma held my hand, stressing over and over.

"Your dad is just like your grandpa. He gave up his family for money. Your mom worked herself to death, and you never got a father's love. So what if he's rich now? Let him live with his money. I don't want a cent.

"Remember, even when I'm dead, I don't want to see your dad. Don't tell him, and don't let him come visit me."

At the time, I really thought she hated Dad.

But in her final moments, even as her mind faded, she kept calling out Dad's nickname, asking if he'd come back.

That's when I realized that Grandma didn't blame him at all.

She just felt sorry for Mom and me and wanted to stand up for us.

In truth, the one who hadn't forgiven him all these years wasn't Grandma or Mom. It was me.

I've been through so much these past few years. I don't want to hold onto that anger anymore.

It's time to let it go. I want to give him my blessing.

I had been hesitating, wondering if telling Dad about Grandma's death on such a joyful day would hurt him.

But then I thought, "Today, Dad probably needs Grandma's blessing."

And Grandma wouldn't want to miss such an important day in his life.

I stroked Grandma's photo and sent Dad the location anyway.

Kneeling before the grave, I told Grandma about the years I spent abroad.

The happy moments, the sad ones.

I laughed and cried, then cried and laughed.

Before long, I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

"Grandma, Dad's here," I said, wiping my eyes and getting up cheerfully.

When I turned, I saw a woman in a wedding dress standing there.

She didn't look older than forty, and she was well-preserved.

Her white wedding dress was flawless, its craftsmanship clearly expensive.

She was accompanied by around twenty middle-aged bridesmaids.

I hadn't expected that in such an abandoned cemetery, someone would come to pay respects on their wedding day.

I ignored them, but one of the heavily made-up bridesmaids behind her pointed at me.

"She's the one who didn't get out of the car at the hotel entrance."

And then they all surrounded me in a rush.

"Shameless homewrecker."

"So young, and already trying to steal another woman's man. She needs a good lesson."

They all started hurling insults at me.

The bride in the middle looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place her.

I tried to keep calm and asked, "You must have mistaken me for someone else, right?"

The bride frowned, motioned for everyone to quiet down, and pulled out her phone.

"Didn't you send this message?"

I froze.

That's the message I had just sent my dad.

"Yes..."

Smack.

Before I could finish, her hand landed hard across my face.