A Glimpse into Tiffy's Past: A Clash of Dreams

It was dinner time, and I sat quietly at the table with my father, Ronaldo Lekzo. Our loyal butler, Auntie Niamh, stood nearby, ready to assist. As we delicately moved our steaks around our plates, my father spoke up in his usual curt manner. "I want you to pursue a Business Management course," he said, his tone strict and commanding. My father's expectations for me were always high, and he wanted me to be the perfect daughter and heir to our family's company.

"Dad, I have a different dream. I want to become a journalist," I replied kindly, feeling guilty for defying his wishes. "But who will manage our company if not you?" he responded, his voice filled with love and concern, trying to appeal to me as a father would.

"Let's see, Dad," I said, trying to divert the conversation and avoid disappointing him. However, he quickly added, "And don't entertain any boys at school," his voice rising with a warning tone.

"I won't, Dad," I tersely replied, feeling a mix of frustration and anger. "Maybe I should just study nearby," my father suggested, his worry for my safety evident.

"Dad, I've already chosen a university," I overreacted, feeling his disapproval. After taking a sip of my orange juice, I continued, "Okay, maybe I'll need a bodyguard." I said this sarcastically, emphasizing my lack of interest in having a boyfriend.

"I will never have a boyfriend, Dad. I don't have any plans for one," I lamely declared, my anger seeping into my words. Under my breath, I mumbled, "I'll only have a boyfriend if he also studies there, maybe." I couldn't help but express my frustration with my father's narrow view of me.

"What?" My father's reaction was filled with anger. "Remember when you were in high school? I forbade you from having a boyfriend, but you did it anyway," he said, surprising me with his calmness. "I know what I'm doing, Dad," I replied calmly, but inside, I questioned whether he truly understood me.

"Tiffy, just try to understand your daddy. He only cares about your well-being," Auntie Niamh intervened, trying to ease the tension. She knew that arguments between my father and me were not uncommon. Feeling overwhelmed, I stood up abruptly and left the dining table, heading straight to my room. My father, affected by my behavior, stopped eating.

"All I want is what's best for her," he said, his voice filled with concern. Auntie Niamh followed me to my room, trying to offer some perspective. "Tiffy, I think your daddy knows what's best for you."

"He's a control freak. Sometimes, I don't even feel like he's my father. I don't feel loved," I confided in her. It was clear that our relationship was strained, lacking the usual warmth and connection that should exist within a family. My father's demeanor towards others was different, filled with laughter and jokes, but when it came to me, his heart seemed distant.

After dinner, my father retreated to his room, his mood somber. He sat down and began writing a letter, knowing that the time would come when I would read it. "I want to protect you from failure and heartbreak. It's not wise to trust any man," he wrote. "They may love you at first, but eventually, you'll realize that they can't love you till the end. Don't give your all to someone who isn't meant for you. If you follow our advice, you'll make the right decisions in life..."

As the evening unfolded, the weight of my father's words lingered in the air. I couldn't help but wonder if his intentions were truly rooted in love or if his protectiveness was hindering my own journey to find happiness and love. Little did I know that the events of the following days would challenge my beliefs and open my heart to unexpected possibilities.