Chapter 2: A Cold Welcome Home.

I went back to my family's house, my heart heavy with the weight of Jake's betrayal still fresh in my mind. As I approached the familiar door, I couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation creeping over me. I knew what awaited me on the other side: more insults, more condemnation, more reminders of my own inadequacy. Pushing open the door, I stepped inside, steeling myself for the onslaught of hostility that I knew would greet me. My parents were seated at the kitchen table, their expressions grim as they regarded me with cold indifference.

"Well, look who decided to slink back home," my own father sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.

"Couldn't make it out there on your own, could you?"I bit back the retort that threatened to spill from my lips, knowing that it would only serve to provoke him further. Instead, I forced myself to maintain a facade of indifference, refusing to let them see how much their words hurt me.

"Where have you been all day?" my mother demanded, her tone accusatory.

"You didn't even bother to call and let us know you were okay. Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

I fought to keep my emotions in check, swallowing hard as I struggled to find the right words to explain myself.

"I needed some time alone to clear my head," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to worry anyone."

My parents exchanged a look of disbelief, their expressions hardening even further as they regarded me with thinly veiled contempt.

"Typical," My father scoffed. "Always thinking about yourself and never considering how your actions affect others."

I lowered my gaze, feeling the weight of their disappointment pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. No matter how hard I tried, I could never seem to escape the endless cycle of disapproval and disdain that surrounded me.As the hours dragged on, I found myself growing increasingly hungry, my stomach gnawing at me with a relentless insistence. But when I dared to ask for food, my request was met with icy silence and cold indifference. It wasn't until evening had descended upon the house that my mother finally took pity on me, serving me a meager portion of leftovers with a begrudging sigh.

"Consider yourself lucky," she muttered as she thrust the plate into my hands. "You don't deserve it, but I suppose we can't let you starve."

I ate in silence, the taste of bitterness lingering on my tongue as I forced myself to swallow each mouthful. And as I looked around the table at my siblings, their faces twisted with disdain as they avoided making eye contact with me, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loneliness wash over me.They saw me as nothing more than bad luck, a burden to be endured rather than a member of the family. And try as I might to prove them wrong, I knew that their perception of me would never change. For in their eyes, I would always be the failure, the disappointment, the one who could never quite measure up. Despite the chilly reception at home, I refused to let their negativity dampen my spirits.

The next day, I dusted off my best suit and set out for an interview at a local construction company. It wasn't the glamorous career I had once dreamed of, but it was a job, and right now, that was all that mattered. The interview went better than expected, and I left the office with a newfound sense of hope blooming in my chest. The manager, Mr. Thompson, had been impressed by my determination and willingness to learn, offering me a position as a junior assistant with the promise of room for advancement.

"Welcome aboard, Tom," he said with a warm smile, extending his hand in a firm handshake. "I have a good feeling about you. I think you're going to do great things here."

As I made my way home, my heart swelled with pride and excitement, eager to share the good news with my family. But as I stepped through the door, the familiar atmosphere of hostility greeted me like a slap in the face.

"Look who's back," my father sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I hope you're not expecting a hero's welcome, because you're not getting one."

I faltered for a moment, the wind knocked out of my sails by his callous words. But I quickly regained my composure, determined not to let them ruin my moment of triumph.

"I got the job," I announced, my voice trembling with excitement. "I will start next week." The reaction was not what I had expected. Instead of cheers and congratulations, there was only silence, broken only by the sound of my mother's disapproving sigh.

"That's nice, dear," she said, her tone lukewarm at best. "But we'll see how long it lasts this time." I felt a pang of hurt at her lack of enthusiasm, but I brushed it aside, refusing to let their negativity dampen my spirits. This was my moment, my chance to prove them wrong once and for all.But as the days passed and the reality of my new job sank in, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

My coworkers treated me with thinly veiled disdain, whispering behind my back and making snide remarks about my lack of experience. And then there was Mr. Thompson, whose warm demeanor seemed to evaporate the moment I walked through the door. His smiles grew forced, his compliments hollow as he piled on the criticism and nitpicked my every move.I tried to brush it off, to tell myself that I was imagining things. But deep down, I knew that something was wrong. And as I lay awake at night, my mind racing with doubts and insecurities, I couldn't help but wonder if my family had been right all along. If I was doomed to fail, no matter how hard I tried.