Ethan took a deep breath. “My last name doesn’t mean anything to you, does it? What if I told you my father’s name was Andrew?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with something sharper.
My father frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “Andrew?”
“You knew him once,” Ethan continued. “He was a business partner of yours until you forced him out. Took everything he had. He went from owning a company to scrubbing floors. And that’s how I grew up.”
I felt the shock ripple through the room as my father’s face paled. “That can’t be… that was years ago,” he stammered, searching Ethan’s face. “You’re his son?”
Ethan nodded. “He never recovered. But he raised me to be better than bitterness. And here I am.”
My father looked away, his shoulders sagging as if he’d aged in seconds. Then, he suddenly dropped to his knees.
“Andrew… he was my friend. I was desperate. It was either him or me, and I had a family. I was doing what I thought I had to. I’m sorry.”
The silence stretched. Finally, my father turned to me, his eyes full of something I’d never seen before. It was regret.
“Anna, I never meant for you to get tangled up in this. I thought I was doing the right thing, building a future for you.”
“A future you chose for me,” I replied softly. “But I’m choosing my own now.”
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
