Follow
Chapters
Share
Ten Years Raising Someone Else's Son Novel Cover

Ten Years Raising Someone Else's Son

For a decade, the protagonist of Ten Years Raising Someone Else's Son provided everything for a stepson who refused to call him father. During a family dinner, the young man demands a valuable apartment intended for his mother's retirement and sister's schooling. When the father offers a down payment instead, the son threatens to destroy the marriage. Faced with his wife's complicit silence, the man must confront the reality of the family he sacrificed everything to build.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 3

"Let it slide? He threw boiling soup at my daughter and scared her half to death, and now he's saying he's willing to let it slide?"

"And what if I refuse?"

Michael's expression darkened. He pulled out his phone, switched on the camera, and pointed it straight at me.

"Refuse? Sure, go ahead.

"Gerald, it wasn't easy climbing your way up to a management position at your company, was it?

"What do you think will happen if I show up at your workplace with banners saying you abused your stepson, stole his property, and tried to leave him with nowhere to live?"

He shoved the camera closer to my face.

"You know how terrifying online outrage is these days. One headline about an 'evil stepfather' and your whole reputation is finished. Hell, you might not even get your pension.

"By then, forget about this little brat going to college. You and your daughter will be out begging on the streets, and nobody will spare you a second glance."

It was a vicious move.

I looked at the smug certainty on Michael's face, then at Natalie's expression, like all of this was perfectly justified.

Behind me, Jean was trembling so badly she did not even dare cry out loud.

Suddenly, I laughed.

"Fine." I nodded slowly. "Since this is what you want, then you can have it."

Natalie's eyes lit up. "You agreed? I knew you were the reasonable one, Gerald."

"Divorce."

Her smile froze.

"What did you say?"

"I said divorce."

I pointed toward the front door. "I'm done with this marriage. You want the house? You want the money? Fine. Sign the divorce papers and I'll leave with nothing."

The moment Natalie heard the words 'leave with nothing,' her eyes practically gleamed.

She did not even bother pretending to stop me. Instead, she immediately pulled a set of documents out of her bag, already printed and prepared.

"You all heard him!" she said loudly, slapping the papers onto the table as if afraid I might change my mind.

"I only prepared these to scare you a little at first, but since you brought it up yourself, let's sign them now."

I glanced down at the agreement.

Both apartments and all the savings would go to her.

Jean would stay with me.

She would not pay a single cent in child support.

"Gerald, don't blame me for being harsh."

Natalie handed me a pen as she spoke.

"Michael still hasn't established himself yet. As the adult in his life, it's only right for you to help him out a little more.

"I'm not worried about Jean staying with you anyway. You make good money, you can afford to raise her. Besides, you're a grown man. Surely you're not going to fight a widowed mother and her son for survival?"

"Mom, stop wasting time talking to him. Just get him to sign already!" Michael urged from the side, his eyes greedily fixed on the terms of the agreement.

"Once he signs, tell him to get the hell out. This house will be mine tonight. Just looking at this old b*stard makes me sick."

The relatives around us had stopped eating sunflower seeds. One by one, they craned their necks forward, eager for the drama.

Second Uncle even put on a fake show of mediating.

"Gerald, you're being a little impulsive here. But if it's for the sake of the children, I suppose that makes you a real man.

"Besides, giving the house to Michael keeps it within the family anyway."

I ignored the buzzing noise of all those flies.

Picking up the pen, I signed the wildly unfair agreement with firm strokes:

Gerald Hensley.

The moment I finished writing, an unexpected sense of relief washed over me.

"Jean, go pack your things."

I set the pen down and turned toward my daughter.

Only then did Jean finally snap out of her shock. Tears silently streamed down her face, her body still twitching slightly from the earlier fright.

"Dad... are we really leaving? This is our home."

"This stopped being a home a long time ago."

I crouched down and gently wiped away her tears.

"Be good. Go grab your schoolbag and textbooks. Leave everything else behind.

"Once something's filthy, taking it with you only makes you sick."

Jean did not understand why I sounded so resolute, but she had always been an obedient child. Wiping her tears, she quietly returned to her room.