My Father Brother Novels & Stories

My father breathed heavily, and for the first time in my entire life, I saw the line of his straight shoulders sag, realizing all at once that he had aged, the stoop in his neck and the bags under his eyes were more evident. I swallowed noisily, feeling the sadness burn in my chest like the damned fiery pits as I let out a string of expletives. “What is it, Frederick? That Stefan is offering you? That you would do anything to keep sucking on his dick?” My brother seethed and my heart slammed against my ribs once when I whipped around to catch the hate in his narrowed almond-shaped eyes. I sighed heavily, knowing he would not understand, my brother. I didn't have his strength or madness, only

"I will never forget the look of my dad at the time. He was so regretful as he had placed so many expectations on my brother. My brother has never lived for himself; instead, he has always been living by my father's will. Later, he studied medicine, and my parents died in an accident."

My tearful voice gave away what had happened. "Shit! He already called you," my brother cursed. "Are you with Richard?" "Yes, at his place." "Good. You're not going to the office today or to your house. Can you stay with your boyfriend until I calm that asshole down?" My brother had developed a kind of aversion to our father over the years, after our mother's death. He tolerated him and confronted him sometimes, but our father was cruel even to Donald. "I think so," I answered.

It must still be painful, reliving the past memories he shared with him. Losing a child is something no parent would ever pray for, especially when the child is in their prime. That was what had befallen my father two years ago. I had lost a brother who I really didn't see eye to eye with, but he had lost a beloved son, one who was always eager to do his dirty biddings. My father was cruel, but my brother was far worse. Sometimes I often wondered if we both were born from the same womb. If we didn't look identical, I would have had serious doubts about our blood relationship.

my father said “I will do that for sure. You have my word.” I replied “Girls Scouts honour.” “You were never a girl scout.” my father laughed as he pointed out “You get the point.” My father looked around the room as if there was someone else in the building and as if he was getting ready to spill the biggest secret known to man. “I can’t really say much about his brothers because he refuses to tell me. He has always been a quiet man and all so I guess that’s why it is basically impossible to get anything from him.” my father started to speak.

— Ethan, you’re not going to pull a dirty trick on me, you need to get home quickly, everyone is waiting for you, he said in a low but tense voice. A silence of a few seconds. — Everyone? replied a deep voice on the other end of the line. What are you up to, Thomas? — I'm not up to anything! Dinner is ready and we’re just waiting for you, Thomas insisted, a bit annoyed. Then, without giving his brother a chance to reply further, he abruptly hung up. He returned to the living room, his face taut with a nervous smile. His uncle Gérard welcomed him with a pat on the shoulder, immediately sensing the source of his distress.

He made the decision to dedicate his life to raising his children, ensuring they had the best upbringing possible, even if it meant sacrificing his career. Her brothers, David and Michael, were remarkably mature. They understood the depth of their father's pain and did their best to support him, becoming pillars of strength in their own right. They helped with chores, offered comforting words, and tried to fill the void left by their mother's absence. Their father, though devastated, slowly began to accept his fate. He found solace in the love of his children and the memories of his wife.

“Okay.” “He’s connected to my family.” That makes me sit up straighter. “The Hale family?” “No.” “Then who?” “My father’s side.” “I thought the Hale family was your father’s side.” “They are.” “Then I’m confused.” “My father had a brother.” The words settle slowly in the room. “An uncle,” I say. “Yes.” “Do you talk to him?” “No.” “Ever?” “No.” “That sounds dramatic.” “It was.” I stand and walk closer to him.

my father commented as my mother put her hand on his. “You were lucky,” I commented, not prepared to forgive them just yet. There was still a lot to address. Primarily, we needed to find the man who said he was my brother. “Any word from your investigators?” I asked my father, knowing he had his people trying to find his ex-mate.

I asked my father. He didn’t look at me. “Work is fine.” “That’s good,” I said. He turned to my brother instead. “Your presentation last week was impressive.” My brother smiled proudly. “Thank you, Father.” “You are acting like a real son,” my father added. “A son that every man would die to have.” I froze slightly. I knew what he meant. My mother put her fork down. “He is also your son,” she said firmly. “He just got into college.”