Memory of the Wronged

My parents sat nearby, smiling warmly as they watched us.

I felt tense. My plain clothes and awkward posture made me look like a beggar next to Emily. But her warmth quickly eased my nerves, and my throat tightened as I murmured my thanks.

Emily waved it off, then reached into her backpack and pulled out a cup of lemon tea.

“Lily, our family already has everything. Giving you something expensive wouldn’t mean much. You can buy whatever you want anyway. But I thought this lemon tea would mean more.”

Her tone carried a touch of pride. “It’s my favorite drink. I usually have the housekeeper make it, but this time I made it myself. I hope you like it.”

Ben chuckled. “That’s a pretty modest gift for Lily’s homecoming.”

Emily shot him a playful look. “You don’t get it, Dad. It’s not about how much it costs. It’s about the thought that counts.”

The car filled with laughter.

I blinked, soaking in the warmth around me. For the first time, I thought, “So this is what it feels like to be a daughter who can laugh and tease her father.”

I took the cup and, under Emily’s expectant gaze, drank every drop.

It was delicious.

But within moments, I felt a sudden pressure in my bladder.

It wasn’t normal. It hit all at once, like a dam bursting inside me.

My legs started to shake. My lips turned pale. Cold sweat slid down my back.

“I can’t wet myself,” I muttered to myself.

This was my first time meeting my family. I couldn’t humiliate myself like that, not in Steve’s car.

“I have to get out,” I thought frantically.

But we were on the highway.

“Lily, are you okay? Do you feel sick?” Emily noticed something was wrong and grabbed my hand.

My family turned to look at me.

Steve cracked the window open a little to let in some air, trying to be considerate. But the rush of cold wind only made it worse.

“Can we… stop for a minute?” I asked weakly.

“This is the highway,” Emily said softly. “There’s a rest stop in about six miles. Just lean on my shoulder for a bit and relax.”

She pulled me close before I could protest. My parents reassured me, saying it was fine, that we were family.

I opened my mouth to explain anyway, squeezing my legs together as hard as I could.

“Dad, Mom, Steve, we really should stop the car. I—”

Before I could finish, Emily shifted slightly, and her hand accidentally pressed down on my stomach.

A shiver ran through my whole body.

I lost control of my bladder.

Warm liquid spread between my legs, soaking through the seat and dripping onto the floor mat.

The sharp, embarrassing smell quickly filled the small space.

Emily gasped and instinctively pulled away. “Lily, you—”

My parents turned to look at me, their faces stiff with a strange mix of surprise and discomfort.

Steve braked hard on the shoulder and glanced back in disbelief, his eyes fixed on the large, wet stain.

He had always been a clean freak. His car was spotless. And now it was filthy and stinking of urine.

My face burned with shame. I stared at my lap, trembling.

I was terrified of being scolded. Terrified of being hit. I couldn’t bear any of it.

When the car started moving again, the mood had completely changed.

Emily tried to keep things light, chattering as if nothing had happened. My parents comforted me, telling me it was alright.

Steve said nothing. He hated the mess, but he didn’t yell. He just drove in silence, his expression dark and heavy.

Then I heard his voice again.

“This stupid girl is really making us watch this crap? Disgusting. My car was ruined because of her piss.”

The voice sounded distant. It wasn’t from the memory.

Oh.

I understood then.

It was Steve in the real world, the one watching my memory, still disgusted by me.

But I couldn’t wake up.

All I could do was listen to his contempt.