Chapter 3

In that instant, I felt like all my blood was rushing straight to my head.

I could not think anymore, and all I heard was a buzzing sound.

After Sheila spoke, John came toward me with a grin.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm John, your brother, and I'm also the dad of your kid, I..."

However, I did not let him finish. My fist spoke for me.

"Go to hell!!"

I tackled him to the ground, punching his face again and again.

Sheila's screams echoed around us.

She tried to stop me, but she was too scared to get close.

One thought echoed in my head.

I had to get rid of that intruder.

Then, my mom's slap hit me hard.

My dad dragged me away, and I ended up sitting on the floor.

My own parents stood there, scolding me.

Their angry looks stuck with me like a bad dream for a long time.

Later, I found out the truth.

While I was gone for four years, John had become like a son to my parents.

He looked after them, and even my wife.

That night, I sat on the couch, finishing a whole pack of cigarettes.

Sheila sat next to me, her tears soaking a whole box of tissues.

Through her sobs, she told me she did it all for me.

"You were in the army for years. I was okay, but what about your parents?!”

"They're old. They just wanted a grandkid around. What's so wrong about that?!”

"John said that the baby would call you dad, and it wouldn't matter to him.”

"He's done so much for us, so why can't you just accept it?"

Under the warm glow of the living room lights, I gazed at her face.

Only four years had passed, yet it felt like an entire lifetime had passed between us.

As the last wisp of smoke from my cigarette faded away, I asked in a raspy whisper, "Do you love him?"

Sheila did not say a word, but the way her hand stopped moving told me everything I needed to know.

In that moment, I realized how silly my anger and shame were.

"Hank, John's been staying with us lately.”

"Go ahead and move your stuff to the guest room."

I had just stepped out of the bathroom when I heard my dad's firm voice.

"Why?" I tried to sound nonchalant.

However, they stood up quickly, as if I had accused them of something.

My mom pointed at me, her voice filled with blame. "John's been nice enough to let the kid call you dad! However, the child is his own! What's wrong with him sharing a room with the child's mother?!”

"Hank, don't be so selfish."

I had heard that accusation so many times in the past two months.

Any hint of disagreement from me, and they would label me as selfish.

However, the real selfishness lay with someone else.

I wanted to fight back, but knowing I would be leaving in a month, I just closed my mouth and moved my things to the other room.

That night, after a full day of training, I should have been out like a light the moment my head hit the pillow.

However, the odd noises from the next room kept me awake.

"Wait, I just had a baby, this isn't right..."

"What's not right, Sheila? I've missed you so much."

"Hank's in the next room!"

"What of it? He can't hear us. And even if he could, wouldn't that make it more exciting?”