Quit Competing for Love, Parents Regret

When I was reborn, I dodged every opportunity to bond with the parents who had found me after fifteen years of separation.
They decided to hand the family empire to my older sister, Minkie. So, I dropped my business major and applied to a geology program in the rugged wilderness of Alaska.
They wanted to throw a lavish birthday gala for Minkie, so I volunteered for a remote field expedition.
They bought Minkie a limited-edition sports car as a graduation gift. I "sensibly" walked into traffic, breaking both legs just so I could say I didn't need a car.
In my past life, I starved for my parents' affection until the day I died, despised by everyone.
Even my own son, in my old age, would frown at me and say, "Mom, can you stop competing with Aunt Minkie? Why can't you just live quietly? Youre embarrassing me in front of my friends."
I died full of resentment, only to open my eyes and find myself back at the moment I was eighteen, just found by my biological family.
This time, Im done fighting. I will let them have their perfect, happy family.

1
Staring at the "Application Submitted" notification on my laptop screen, I calmly closed the browser tab.
No one knew this was the second time I had filled out my college applications.
In my previous life, I followed their orders. I attended a top-tier Ivy League business school, desperate to stay close to them, desperate to mold myself into someone worthy of the prestigious Vanderbilt name.
After all, ever since Ithe lost daughter returned after fifteen yearscame back, I had been nothing but a stain on their reputation.
But in this life, before they could even broach the subject of Minkie taking over the company, I spoke first.
"Dad, Mom, Ive applied to the University of Alaska for Geology."
The silence at the dinner table was deafening.
My father, Richard, set down his fork, his brow furrowing deeply. "Geology? In Alaska? What are you going to learn there? How to dig for rocks in the snow?"
My mother, Eleanor, let out a soft gasp, her eyes wide with undisguised shock. "Sophia, honey, is it your grades? Did you not score high enough? Its okay, we can make a donation to..."
I had been back for nearly two weeks, yet neither of them knew I was a straight-A student. They simply assumed the girl from the foster system was uneducated trash.
"My scores are perfect," I cut her off. "I chose it because I like it."
Minkie sat across from me, feigning concern. "Sophie, are you under too much pressure lately? That kind of place is brutal. I know youre used to... hardship... but is this necessary?"
I looked at her.
In my past life, she always played the saint, yet her words were laced with barbs designed to trigger me. She remained elegant and poised, while I looked like an ungrateful savage screaming at her.
But in this life, her hidden thorns couldn't pierce my skin.
"Ive thought it through," I said, lowering my head, my voice even. " The application is in. It cant be changed."
The air grew stagnant.
Richard finally scoffed. "Fine. Its your choice. Don't come crying to me when you regret it."
Eleanor sighed, and for the first time, she used her serving chopsticks to place a prawn in my bowl. "Lets just eat. We can discuss this later."
I didnt touch the prawn. She didnt know I was severely allergic to shellfish. Minkie, however, loved seafood, so the family ate it almost daily.
Every meal here felt like navigating a minefield.
For the rest of the dinner, the three of them chatted happily. I finished quickly and excused myself, abandoning the exhausting effort to fit in that defined my previous life.
I knew now that this house never had room for me.

2
Back in my room, I opened my calendar.
Forty-three days until the semester began.
I took a red marker and drew a small 'X' over todays date.
Every day was a countdown to my escape.
I looked around the room. Every piece of furniture was expensive, imported, and utterly soulless. It looked like a showroom in a luxury catalog, not a home.
To me, it couldn't compare to the drafty, creaky farmhouse my foster parents owned. That place was freezing in winter and sweltering in summer, but it was filled with the warmth of life.
In the fifteen years of my past life, I drained all my passion and hope within these cold walls.
I learned etiquette, forced myself to get perfect grades, gave up the major I loved, and even married into a strategic alliance they choseall to beg for a scrap of warmth from my "family."
And what did I get?
My parents' exasperated sighs: "Sophia, why can't you be effortless like Minkie?"
My sisters gaslighting: "Mom, Dad, don't blame Sophie. She just cares too much about what you think."
My husbands cold indifference: "Sophia, aside from your last name, is there anything about you that actually belongs in this world?"
And finally, my sons rejection.
I died of illness caused by decades of depression. I fought for a lifetime, only to be detested by everyone.
The phantom sensation of suffocation still lingered in my chest.
This time, I won't fight.
Your love, your company, your picture-perfect trio...
I want none of it.
I only want myself.
The next morning, when I went downstairs, the living room was filled with laughter.

3
Minkie was nestled on the sofa, linking arms with Mother, resting her head on Eleanor's shoulder as they reviewed the guest list in Father's hand.
"Lets invite all the prominent families from the Hamptons and the City, Mom. I want a big birthday bash this year." Minkies voice was sweet, almost childlike.
"Of course, darling, whatever you say." That was Mothers voice, dripping with indulgence.
"Minkie is a young woman now; its appropriate to invite important figures for networking," Father added approvingly.
They were a perfect oil painting of happiness. I was just a stray smudge on the canvas.
I walked past them silently, heading to the kitchen for water.
"Oh, Sophia, you're up?" Mother saw me, and her smile instantly dimmed, her tone shifting to polite formality. "Its your sisters birthday early next month. Were hosting a party here. Youll attend, of course?"
Next month.
That was exactly when I planned to leave early for Alaska to acclimatize.
In my past life, I canceled a crucial internship for this partymy debut as a Vanderbilt daughter. I thought it was my chance to belong.
The result? Despite cramming etiquette lessons for a month, I was clumsy. Minkies sorority sisters pointed and laughed, and I became the evenings joke.
The fifteen years I was missing created a chasm between me and this glittering world that nothing could bridge.
"No," I heard my own voice, calm and steady. "I signed up for a pre-semester field orientation. I have to leave early next month."
The living room went silent.
Minkie reacted first, a flicker of joy in her eyes masked by concern. "Field orientation? That sounds exhausting, Sophie. And dangerous, isn't it? Its so much nicer to stay home."
Richards brow furrowed again, visibly annoyed. "What kind of orientation is mandatory? Cancel it. Its your sisters birthday. How does it look if youre not there?"
Here we go again.
My life, my plans, were always the ones that could be sacrificed.
I gripped my glass, knuckles turning white, but my voice remained flat. "Its booked. I can't cancel."
"You!" Father started to raise his voice.
Mother quickly intervened. "Alright, alright, if she doesn't want to go... Its good Sophia has her own plans. Just be safe."
I mumbled an acknowledgment and went back upstairs.
Behind me, I heard Minkies gentle voice. "Mom, Dad, don't be mad. Sophie just isn't close to us yet. Shell come around..."
She was always the sensible one.
And I was always the ungrateful wolf cub.

4
I tuned out the noise downstairs.
In my room, I began to pack.
I didn't have much. The traces of my existence in this house were pathetic.
Most of the clothes and items were things Mother had the housekeeper buy in bulk when I returnedexpensive, but chosen with zero thought.
There was only one small, battered suitcase containing the old clothes I brought from my foster home and a photo album.
It held the only picture I had with my foster parents.
In the photo, they held a skinny, scrawny me, their faces wrinkled with smiles, their eyes full of love.
That was my real warmth.
I rubbed my thumb over the photo, my eyes stinging.
After I was abducted, the traffickers dumped me halfway because a girl wasn't "worth much." My foster parents saved me and raised me.
Tragically, they died in a car accident earlier this year. It was the news coverage of that accident that allowed the Vanderbilts to find me.
Sometimes, I wished they never had.
I carefully tucked the album into the bottom of the suitcase.
I took out my bank book. It held the savings from my part-time jobs and the small inheritance my foster parents left me. It wasn't a fortune, but it was enough to get me to Alaska and cover my first semesters rent.
I didn't intend to spend a single penny of Vanderbilt money.

5
Dinner that evening was tense.
Father ate in sullen silence.
Mother tried to lighten the mood, chattering about the menu for the party.
Minkie played along, occasionally steering the conversation toward me, trying to bait me into a reaction.
"Sophie, I heard the wind in the northwest strips your skin right off. Its so dry. Youll need a ton of moisturizer."
"Mm."
"The food there is really heavy and greasy, too. With your weak stomach, you should be careful."
"I know."
My cold, monosyllabic answers made Mothers attempts at cheerfulness awkward.
Finally, she put down her chopsticks. "Sophia, do you have a problem with us?"
I looked up.
Father glared at me, his eyes judging. Minkie wore her practiced look of worry.
It was such a familiar scene.
In my past life, any expression of pain or injustice was twisted into me "having an attitude" or being ungrateful.
"No," I said, looking back down at my plate. "Im just an adult now. I want to walk my own path."
"Your path is running off to the tundra to suffer?" Fathers voice vibrated with suppressed rage. "Did we starve you? Did we deny you clothes? Why are you so desperate to leave this house?"
Yes, I am desperate.
I answered in my head.
Out loud, I stayed calm. "Geology is a critical field for resource development. I find it meaningful."
I gave them a generic, noble answer they couldn't attack.
Father was stumped. His face darkened, but he couldn't argue with "meaningful."
Mother jumped in. "Okay, okay, ambition is good... lets eat, the soup is getting cold."
I was the first to set down my bowl. "Im full. Please, take your time."
I turned and walked to the stairs.
Behind me, I heard Fathers hiss. "Look at her! Look at how she was raised! Zero manners!"
And Mothers soothing whisper. "Hush, Richard. She grew up in the country. Its normal for her to be short-sighted..."
I entered my room emotionless.
To them, I would always be the unwashed, short-sighted hillbilly.

6
I locked the door.
Finally, peace.
I opened my laptop and researched rental apartments near the university. Since I was leaving for good, I wouldn't stay in the dorms. I needed a space that was entirely mine.
After booking a small studio, I crossed off another day on the calendar.
Forty-two days.
Time was moving too slowly.
For the next few weeks, I became a ghost in the house.
They were consumed with Minkies graduation and birthday. No one paid attention to my "rebellion."
My parents bought Minkie a Range Rover for graduation. I happened to be in the driveway when it was delivered.
Mother looked slightly embarrassed. "This is for your sister. If you want one..."
I immediately cut in, playing the role perfectly. "I don't need one. I don't drive well anyway. It would be a waste."
Mother visibly relaxed. "Well pick something else for you next time."
There would be no next time. They would forget me the moment I turned the corner. I was used to being forgotten.
And that was fine. I didn't want their gifts.
I spent my days at the library, leaving early and returning late.
Occasionally, Id run into employees from Fathers company. They would politely call me "Miss Sophia," but their eyes held pity or disdain.
Everyone knew I was the awkward appendage of the Vanderbilt family.
Not like Minkiethe celebrated socialite, the pride of her parents.
My existence served only one purpose: to prove the Vanderbilts were benevolent enough to take back the stray dog.
How ironic.

7
The day of departure finally arrived.
I booked a red-eye train ticket. I told no one.
The night before, I dragged my packed suitcase into the living room.
The three of them were on the couch watching a reality show Minkie loved, laughing together.
The laughter died instantly when they saw the luggage.
"Sister? What are you..."
"My train is tonight. I'm heading to school."
I kept it brief.
"Tonight? In such a rush?" Mother stood up, flustered. "Why didn't you say so? Ill have the driver take you!"
"No need. I called a cab."
Fathers face was dark. He said nothing.
"You child... why are you so stubborn?" Mother stepped forward to fix my collar, but I turned slightly, dodging her touch.
Her hand froze in mid-air, her expression hurt.
A faint ripple of emotion crossed my heart, then vanished.
Some damage is permanent.
The touch I craved in my last life was something I no longer needed in this one.
"Ill handle my own tuition and living expenses," I said, looking at them like I was discussing the weather. "You won't need to worry about me anymore."
"What nonsense are you spouting!" Father slammed his hand on the armrest and stood up. "Sophia! Do you have to be this dramatic? Has this family mistreated you? Is that why you're talking like this?"
"Richard!" Mother grabbed his arm.
Minkie chimed in, "Dad, don't be mad! Sophie didn't mean it..." She turned to me, eyes pleading. "Sophie, apologize to Dad. You're just angry, right?"
I looked at them, and suddenly, I felt exhausted.
"I'm telling the truth," I said, gripping the handle of my suitcase. "I'm leaving."
I turned my back on their reactions and walked toward the heavy oak door.
"Sophia Vanderbilt! If you walk out that door today, don't you dare come back!" Fathers roar echoed through the high ceilings.
My footsteps paused for a fraction of a second. I didn't turn around.
"Okay."
The word was barely a whisper, yet it took every ounce of strength I had.
Then, I opened the door and stepped out.

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