My Future Father Warned Me

The holiday was approaching. I had just booked the hotel and plane tickets for the whole family.

I couldn't wait to call my father, only to discover that the video call connected to my dad five years in the future.

I said happily to the camera:

Dad, this time I'm taking you guys to Hawaii to stay in an ocean-view room. You can watch the beach and the bikinis.

There was no answer on the other end. Instead, I heard heart-wrenching coughing.

I asked with concern:

"Dad, isn't Sophia taking care of you? Five years from now, did I marry far away and can't take care of you?"

Father turned the camera around to face the hospital bed. In the frame, a child was stepping on his oxygen tube, laughing gleefully.

Seeing this scene, I said angrily:

"That must be my child with Jasper! Tell him to discipline this kid properly."

Under my shocked gaze, he trembled as he turned the camera back to himself:

"Actually, five years ago, I gave the house you bought for us to Sophia. This child is Jasper and Sophia's kid."

"Rayne, can you upgrade the hotel to a suite? I want to take photos for Ins. This small room is too shabby."

Sophia's message popped up, followed by a pouting emoji.

I stared at the screen. My fingers were still trembling.

The image of my father's face from that video call was still burned into my mind.

That child was Jasper and Sophia's?

I didn't reply to her. Instead, I turned and dialed Jasper's number.

He answered instantly, his tone gentle: "Baby, what's wrong? Missing me?"

I was about to speak when I heard a laugh in the background.

Very soft, but I knew it too well.

Sophia's laugh, with that coquettish lilt at the end.

"Who are you with?"

"Oh, Sophia came to pick up the sunscreen you bought for her. She just stopped by."

His tone was casual.

"What's wrong, baby?"

Stopped by? His company was in the east side of the city, Sophia lived on the west side. Forty minutes apart by car.

"Nothing, just asking."

I hung up.

I opened my notes app, deleted the Hawaii itinerary I'd written, and typed a line: Not going to Hawaii.

At dinner time, I went back to my parents' house.

When I pushed open the door, the spicy wings hit me.

All dishes Sophia loved.

I had a bad stomach. Three years ago, I was diagnosed with superficial gastritis and couldn't eat spicy food.

Mom poked her head out from the kitchen: "Rayne's here? Come sit. Sophia rarely comes home for dinner, so just make do, okay."

Sophia rolled her eyes: "If you don't like it, just eat less. It's not like this every day."

I sat down. There wasn't a single dish in front of me that I could eat.

I took a bite of fried chicken. When I swallowed, my stomach burned with acid.

After dinner, Jasper came to pick me up.

He greeted my parents first, his smile appropriate.

Then he walked to the sofa and naturally picked up the shopping bag Sophia had left there, handing it to her.

"This is pretty heavy. Let me carry it down for you."

Their fingertips touched. Neither pulled away.

Sophia looked up at him. Her ears were flushed red.

Jasper turned to me with a smile: "Let's go, baby. Time to go home."

I saw it all but said nothing.

In the car, he gripped the steering wheel with one hand and covered the back of my hand with the other.

"Rayne, is everything arranged for Hawaii? Do you need my help?"

"All booked."

"That's good." He glanced at me. "When we get there, I'll take you diving. You've always wanted to try, right?"

I said okay.

Back home, I closed the bedroom door and sat on the edge of the bed.

I replayed that future video call in my mind over and over again.

The house given to Sophia. The child belonging to Jasper and Sophia. You decide for yourself.

I picked up my phone and saw that Sophia had sent a message in the family group chat:

"So excited! The hotel Rayne booked must be amazing! Love you, Rayne!"

Followed by a row of hearts.

Mom replied: "Rayne worked hard."

Dad sent a thumbs-up emoji.

I exited the group chat and opened my conversation with Jasper.

The most recent message was his goodnight text with a kissing emoji.

I scrolled up to three days ago.

He had recalled a message.

The recall time was 2:17 PM.

That afternoon at 2 PM, Sophia posted on social media saying she was shopping at the mall.

Location: A shopping district in the east side.

The one downstairs from Jasper's company.

I put my phone face-down on the nightstand and closed my eyes.

My future father's voice echoed again:

"You decide for yourself."

"Rayne, Mochi only eats this brand of food. Anything else makes her sick. Thanks!"

Three days before departure, Sophia brought her corgi to my house.

She walked in, dumped three bags of dog food on the kitchen floor, and turned to leave without even bringing a dog bed.

I stopped her: "Where's the bed? Where will she sleep at night?"

"Just find some cushion. Mochi's not picky."

She had already changed her shoes and waved at me:

"You're the best, Rayne! I'll treat you to dinner when I get back!"

The door closed.

I looked down at the label on the dog food bag. Imported. $360 per bag.

Last month, Sophia asked to borrow money from me:

"Rayne, my salary is only three grand a month. I really can't make it to the end of the month."

I transferred her two thousand dollars.

But today, the shoes on her feetI'd seen them at the mall. Four thousand eight hundred dollars.

The corgi circled around my feet, wagging its tail happily.

I crouched down and patted its head: "Come on, let's take you to the park to see the world."

The park had lots of large dogs. The corgi's short legs couldn't run fast.

I loosened the leash and watched it frolic on the grass, squealing as a golden retriever chased it.

At noon, Mom called.

"Rayne, transfer two thousand dollars to Sophia. She wants to buy some clothes for the trip."

"Mom, doesn't she have her own salary?"

Her tone immediately changed:

"Sophia doesn't make much, you know that. Can't you be more generous? She's been frail since childhood. What's wrong with you helping her?"

Frail since childhood.

I'd heard this line for twenty-five years.

Sophia had pneumonia as a kid and was hospitalized for half a month. Since then, she became the family's porcelain doll.

But now she could party at clubs until 3 AM. Frail?

"I'll transfer it to her later."

I hung up. I didn't transfer it.

In the afternoon, I went to Jasper's company to deliver his charger that he'd left at home.

The receptionist said: "Jasper is out. Would you like to wait?"

I called him.

"Baby, I'm meeting a client. I'll call you back later."

I said okay and turned toward the parking lot.

His car was still there.

The black Audi was parked in its usual spot. I walked closer and looked inside.

The passenger seat had been lowered. The rearview mirror angle was wrong too.

Someone much shorter than me had sat there.

I'm five-foot-eight. Sophia is five-foot-two.

That evening at home, I deliberately leaned on Jasper's shoulder and said:

"I might not be able to go to Hawaii. The company has a last-minute project."

He froze for a second.

Just one second.

Then he cupped my face with both hands, his brow furrowed:

"That's such a shame, baby. How about I don't go either and stay with you?"

His tone was sincere, his eyes gentle.

"No, you go. Help me take care of my parents."

"Alright, then I'll be filial for you."

He agreed too quickly. Not even a second of hesitation.

Before bed, I scrolled through the family group's new messages.

Sophia had posted: "So excited for the holiday! Jasper said he'll take me diving when we get there!"

Mom replied with a string of happy emojis.

Dad said: "Jasper's a reliable guy."

I turned off my phone and lay in the darkness with my eyes open.

That future scene floated up againFather paralyzed in bed, a child stepping on his oxygen tube and laughing.

I told myself: Just hang on a few more days.

"Yes, transfer it to Sophia's name. How can a girl get married without a house? Rayne has Jasper. No need to worry about her."

The day before departure, I went to my parents' house to get something. As I passed the study, I heard Dad on the phone.

His voice wasn't loud, but every word was crystal clear.

Exactly the same as what my future father had said. He was already processing it.

That housethe down payment of $800,000 was three years of my savings. The monthly mortgage of twelve thousand dollars, I'd been paying for three years.

I put it in his name because he patted his chest and said:

"Put it in Dad's name. In the future, it'll belong to both you sisters."

Now "both you sisters" had become Sophia alone.

I stood outside the study door, taking deep breaths.

I pushed the door open, pretending I hadn't heard anything.

Dad hung up the phone and smiled: "Rayne's here? You're really not coming with us tomorrow?"

"Can't get away from work."

He nodded without asking more and turned to open the closet to pack Sophia's suitcase.

Sophia came back from outside carrying a bag. She rushed into the study and acted cute toward Dad:

"Dad, look! Isn't it pretty?"

She pulled a bikini out of the bag. The tag was still attached.

Dad smiled: "Pretty, pretty. My daughter looks good in anything."

I stood beside them.

He didn't even glance at me.

That evening, Jasper came to the house for dinner.

During the meal, Sophia dropped her fork and bent down to pick it up.

Jasper bent down at almost the same time.

The two of them stayed under the table for two seconds before coming back up.

Sophia's ears were red, her eyes darting around.

Jasper nonchalantly served me some food with his fork:

"Baby, eat more. You'll have to take care of yourself these next few days."

I smiled and said okay.

After dinner, Mom pulled me into the kitchen and lowered her voice:

"Sophia told me she wants a new phone. Can you transfer her five thousand this month? She's too embarrassed to ask you herself."

"Mom, I just gave her three thousand last month."

Mom's face darkened:

"You make so much money. What's wrong with spending some on Sophia? You're getting stingier."

I made eighteen thousand a month after taxes. Mortgage: twelve thousand. Sophia's living expenses: three thousand. Year-end for my parents: twenty thousand.

"I'll transfer it to her later."

I said that line again.

Back at my own place, Sophia's dog had torn up my couch cushion. Cotton was scattered all over the floor.

I crouched down to clean it up. My phone buzzed with Sophia's message:

"Rayne, Mochi's nails need trimming. Can you take her to the pet store? My usual place charges $280 per visit."

I didn't reply.

I opened my photo album and recorded an audio memo of the property transfer call I'd overheard today.

Then I dialed my future father's video call.

The call rang three times before connecting.

Weak breathing came from the other end.

"Rayne, you called again."

"Dad, when exactly was the property transfer processed?"

He was silent for a long time.

"Right before your Hawaii trip during the holiday. I signed the papers."

"When did Jasper and Sophia get together?"

I asked, keeping my voice down, my fingers gripping the phone case tightly.

Father coughed a few times, his voice weak:

"Not long after you all came back from the trip, Sophia got pregnant. Jasper said the child was his and he wanted to marry her."

He paused, then added: "That's when you found out."

I closed my eyes.

Not long after the trip.

That meant during the Hawaii trip, they were already together.

If I didn't go, I'd be making room for them.

The next morning, I drove them to the airport.

Sophia walked ahead, arm-in-arm with Jasper, chatting and laughing.

Mom was beside them helping Sophia push her suitcase.

Dad patted my shoulder and told me to work hard at home, then hurried to catch up with the three of them.

Jasper turned back and blew me a kiss: "Wait for me to come back and take you out for good food."

Sophia covered her mouth and giggled beside him.

I stood at the departure hall entrance, watching the four of them disappear into the security checkpoint.

They were a family. I was the outsider left behind.

In the afternoon, the family group chat started blowing up.

Sophia posted a video of the ocean-view room.

Jasper had filmed it for her. In the frame, she wore that bikini, twirling on the balcony with the azure sea behind her.

Mom replied: "Sophia is so beautiful."

Jasper posted a photo of himself with Sophia, captioned: "Helping Rayne take care of her little sister."

They were standing very close. His hand rested on her shoulder.

Dad liked it.

No one tagged me.

No one said "too bad Rayne couldn't come."

I muted the group chat notifications.

At 11 PM, Jasper sent me a private video message.

The text read: "Baby, look at the ocean view."

I clicked it open.

The video showed the hotel room with the lights on.

Sophia came out of the bathroom wearing a white bathrobe, her hair wet. When she saw he was recording, she screamed and lunged to grab the phone.

The two of them laughed as they tumbled onto the bed.

The video cut off there.

Immediately after, he sent a message:

"Sorry, sent that to the wrong person. Meant to send it to my buddy. Sophia coming out of the shower startled me."

Sent to the wrong person.

In the hotel room, Sophia in a bathrobe, him recording.

I stared at that video three times.

The first time, my hands shook.

The second time, my eyes stung.

The third time, I felt nothing at all.

I opened the hotel booking page and clicked cancel.

I opened the airline app and refunded all the return tickets.

Finally, I logged into the banking app and found Jasper's supplementary card.

It was linked to my primary card with a fifty-thousand-dollar limit. I changed the limit to zero.

Twenty minutes later, my phone vibrated frantically.

Caller ID: Dad.

I watched the name flashing on the screen. I didn't answer.

It rang once, twice, three times.

On the fourth ring, a text came in.

"Rayne, have you lost your mind! Why can't my credit card be used! Call me back!"

Sender: Jasper.

I flipped the phone over, screen-down on the table.

Then I took a shower, dried my hair, and got into bed.

Before sleeping, I glanced at my phone one last time. Twenty-three missed calls, over forty messages.

I'll deal with it tomorrow.