Romans & histoires Austin Theory Father

Kelvin quietly joins me. Dad sighs. "I said something funny?" "You…..." I wipe at my eyes. "You told him to eat." "He looks tired." "I do," Kelvin admits. Dad nods once. "Then eat." No speeches or dramatic apology. Just a father worrying about someone sitting at his table, somehow, that means more. A few minutes later, Austin walks over. He hesitates, almost turns back, then keeps going. "I won't stay long." Nobody interrupts him. He looks at me. "You look happy."

The blissful bubble we had created during the early days of summer shattered far too soon. Theo received a call from his father late one afternoon while we were secretly tangled together in the guest room. Uncle Kael needed him back in the city for a couple of urgent family business matters—something about contracts and a meeting that couldn’t be postponed. Theo tried to negotiate staying longer, but the tone in his father’s voice left no room for argument.

Hanley hung his head, ashamed, not saying a word. The teacher came out with Christopher, and I glanced at Hanley. "Don't ever come near me again. Stay far away. This is what you said to me before, and now I'm saying it to you." I paused, then added, "By the way, you have a biological father out there, right? If things are so tough now, you can go to him. Don't bother me." Hanley, furious, stood up. "How could you…" With that, I grabbed Christopher's hand and pulled him into a nearby taxi, leaving without a second glance at Hanley, who stood frozen in place.

“My youngest wife.” Youngest. The word landed heavier than it should have. The son looked at me then, truly looked. His gaze sharpened, assessing in a way that felt personal now. Not as a buyer. Not as a man appraising a body. But as a son confronting something he did not want to understand. “So young,” he said quietly. There was accusation in it. I said nothing. His father smiled faintly. “She is well suited.” Something flickered across the son’s face disapproval, perhaps, quickly masked.

The paper twists and folds in on itself, words disappearing into ash. I don’t want to see the real one. I don’t care if my father really left his fortune to a child with cancer or a damn charity for stray dogs. I’m done. I’m done chasing ghosts. The fire’s still eating the last corner when I hear footsteps behind me. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to burn evidence.” I smirk, not even turning yet. Rico’s voice is like grit and whiskey. “I’m done with my father’s legacy. I wanted his power, but he never left me love.”

, I said, keeping a stern face to let him know that I was being serious. " My father would personally kill me if he finds a book like that in any bookstore, with me as the author", he said. He was all smiles while saying that but I knew that he meant every word of it. " And his intellectual diagnosis would reveal to him that I must've experienced every single type of dick I write about". " Says who? You could tell him that you looked it up online, or better still you had AI compose the book for you", I said, trying to give him hints to lie with.

I said in a cold, rigid voice. "Samantha! You can't do this! You’re carrying my child!" David snapped, trying to use his authority as a husband to hold me back. I stopped, looking him straight in the eyes that were now filled with fear. "Your child? No, David. From this second on, this child has no father. This baby is mine alone. Go ahead, leave with what you’ve chosen, David." I turned and walked toward the house. Every step felt heavy, as if I were dragging thousands of tons, but I didn't stop. I ignored David's shouts calling my name repeatedly.

My hands were surrounding my belly to protect my baby from this monster. He knelt and stared at my belly, "Hello baby... Stay safe. Your father is not so good as your mother is saying." "Declan..." I shouted as he was crossing the limit. He got up and laughed malevolently. He put on his hoodie and whispered in my ear, " So much trust in your husband, right?" "Go and just ask him, does he know your father?" He smirked viciously making me shocked. He just mentioned my father. But what is the relationship between my father with Austin?

Brandi “Sweetie,” Dad calls. I open my mouth, and he feeds me a bite of mango as I rest my head on his shoulder. It’s been a month since we reunited in the hospital, and he’s been living with us—I’ve never been happier. Waking up to him daily, hugging him—it’s a dream I never thought I’d live again. But it’s real. He’s here. He’ll walk me down the aisle, meet his grandkids, share every milestone, and hear about the tough times. Telling him about Colin’s abuse was brutal, but it lifted a weight—he blamed himself, wished he’d done more, but I convinced him Colin and Theo were the culprits. Speaking of Theo, his trial’s months away. I can’t wait for Dad to get justice. Dad revealed Theo was his

Megan immediately wrapped her arms around Nelson and sobbed even louder, "Don't you see this, Rowan? He really can't be without you. His father divorced me and abandoned him, and now he has finally come to see you as his dad. If you leave now, aren't you abandoning him all over again?" Rowan's forehead creased. He looked at Nelson, whose face was flushed red from crying on the hospital bed, and remembered the way Ryan had lowered his head this morning. Ryan had also cried. However, he had never cried this loudly. He would only endure it. He endured it until the very end and quietly called him Mr. Goodwin.