Chapter 2

I'd barely walked out on Fiona and stepped outside the inpatient building when a doctor in a white coat caught up to me and tapped me on the shoulder.

"Mr. Sherman, hold on a second! Fiona's hospital bill hasn't been settled yet. There's still an unpaid balance of over ten thousand dollars—"

I stopped, turned around, and flashed him a picture-perfect smile. "Don't worry about it, Doc."

I pointed back up at the building and said breezily, "Her son, Kyle, will be down to settle it."

The doctor just stared at me, completely lost. I gave him a courteous nod, turned on my heel, and walked away.

…

The sun overhead was blinding, yet I felt cold all over.

Memories I'd deliberately buried came surging back, flooding my mind like water bursting from a dam.

Last year, Kyle went all out for Fiona's 60th birthday by booking a banquet at the city's most expensive five-star hotel. All through dinner, he laid the sweet talk on thick. It took him only a few flattering words to put Fiona over the moon, and she praised him to the skies in front of every relative present.

However, when the bill arrived, Kyle slapped his forehead and made a big show of blaming himself. "Aw, man! My wife keeps all my cards, and I left in such a rush today that I forgot to grab them!"

At that, Fiona didn't hesitate for a second. She turned straight to me and said, "Howard, go cover it for now. It's only 50 thousand dollars. Don't put Kyle on the spot."

It didn't sit right with me at the time, but Jenna gave me a pleading look, so I swiped my card anyway.

At that dinner, Kyle and his family basked in the glory and soaked up every compliment.

And me? I was just the sucker who picked up the tab.

Then, there was the time Kyle bought a new car and bragged about it nonstop in the family group chat. Just a few days later, Fiona rushed to Jenna in a total panic, claiming there was a family emergency and that she needed 100 thousand dollars to tide them over.

Jenna had always been a soft touch. Without even asking me, she transferred Fiona the money we had set aside for investments.

And guess what?

I happened to be scrolling through Kyle's social media feed when I spotted a screenshot of a 50-thousand-dollar transfer, with Fiona listed as the recipient. The caption read, "Here's a little something for you, Mom! Spend it on whatever you want!"

The very next post was a photo of Kyle's wife, Megan Lowe, smiling sweetly with a brand-new designer purse worth 50 thousand dollars slung over her shoulder.

So, that was the "family emergency." They had used our money to buy Kyle a reputation as the dutiful son and his wife a designer handbag.

As I thought back on everything, I felt my heart turn cold and hard, like a stone submerged in ice water.

Right at the worst possible moment, my phone rang. "Kyle" was flashing across the screen.

I swiped to answer. Kyle's voice came through immediately, annoyed and demanding, as if he had every right to call me to account. "Howard, where the hell did you run off to? My mother's getting discharged, and you're not even here?"

On the other end of the line, his voice mingled with Megan's, while Fiona grumbled in the background.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and said flatly, "Something urgent came up at work. I just left."

"Something urgent? What could possibly be more important than my mom getting out of the hospital?" Kyle said, his tone thick with smug self-righteousness. "Whatever. Just hurry back and drive her home."

I let out a mocking laugh and asked, "Kyle, if your mom getting discharged is such a huge deal, shouldn't you, her devoted son, be the one who's there?"

My words silenced him for a second.

Without waiting for him to react, I added, "I really can't get away right now, so you and Megan go ahead and take her home. Oh, and cover the hospital bill while you're at it. I'll pay you back later."

Before he could say another word, I hung up.

He wanted me to come back and be their workhorse?

Dream on!

From now on, I was going to learn how to be a dutiful son from Kyle.