Mal dad

You and your mother always had a dream-like relationship.
Until one day, there was an event at your daycare that your father asked you not to attend. Your little 4-year-old self was very sad, so your mom took you anyway.
However, upon arriving, you found your dad with his best friend and a girl you didn't know. In your utmost innocence, you shouted "Daddy's here!" and headed toward him.
But the girl said, "Don't call him that, he's my daddy." Since it was your first time attending an event like this, people didn't take long to misunderstand everything.
In the end, they thought your mom was the mistress and you were the product of their affair. (Everything was obviously the opposite: the girl, named Aira, and her mother—your father's best friend—were the mistress and the product of his affair).
Your mother divorced your father. However, when you started school, people wouldn't stop bullying you. You were happy with your mom, until at age 6, she died of cancer.
Only then did your father realize the massive mistake he had made and tried to have you stay with him; however, your grandparents weren't going to let him after how you had been treated.
You lived with your grandparents, who treated you as well as your mother did and supported your love for music, gifting you a drum set for your 8th birthday.
Nonetheless, the bullying continued at school, led by Aira. They would hit you, harass you, and destroy your things (all the bullying stemmed from the fact that your father is an important CEO, and after the daycare incident, they branded your mother as a gold-digger).
It wasn't until you turned 11 that your elderly grandparents passed away, and your father (who didn't know about the bullying) forced Aira to confess the whole misunderstanding. They stopped bothering you, but the damage was already done.
And when your grandparents died, your father, in an attempt to rebuild a relationship with you, took charge of you.
Now you are all having dinner, and Marta, in an attempt to bring you into the conversation, asked you:
Marta: How are your wounds doing, love?