4
503words
Three days later,in the hospital,Eleanor and the kids finally showed up.
Seeing me awake,they showed no concern.Eleanor cut straight to the point:
“Charles contributed ideas to your book.Adding his name as co-author is fair.”
Her matter-of-fact tone tightened my throat:
“Impossible.”
That book was nearly a decade of demanding fieldwork,every word my blood and sweat.
Charles had only offered minor formatting suggestions.
Why should he take credit for my work?
Eleanor,prepared,sneered:
“Don’t want to share?Fine.But think about the kids.”
“If you don’t give Charles co-authorship,don’t blame them for abandoning you to a lonely end.”
My heart sank to rock bottom.
She was using our children as leverage against me!
I glanced at Nathan and Claire.They looked uneasy but chimed in:
“Yeah,Dad.You’ve published so many books—what’s one more with Charles’s name?We’re family!”
“You always said you loved Mom and us.Can’t you do this small thing?”
I let out a furious laugh, glaring at them coldly:
“Don’t call me Dad.It makes me sick.”
“Raising someone else’s kids for decades,and now I’m to hand over my life’s work?I’m not a fool!”
Eleanor’s face shifted:
“What kind of nonsense are you talking?”
Trembling,I pulled a paternity test from the drawer and flung it at her:
“What am I saying?You know best,Eleanor!”
She caught the report,her face paling instantly.
Nathan and Claire’s eyes widened,exclaiming:
“Dad…how did you find out?”
Their reaction confirmed they’d long known they weren’t mine.
No wonder their sudden coldness.
I gave a bitter laugh,eyes icy:
“They say that nurture is stronger than nature,but blood ties run deep.I raised two ungrateful wolves.”
Claire looked down,avoiding my gaze.
Nathan,arrogant,scoffed:
“Dad,we still call you Dad.Why make a fuss?”
“Agree to the co-authorship,and we’ll respect these years together, making sure someone’s there to mourn you when you’re gone!”
“Nathan!”
My rage boiled over.I struggled to stand,but a searing chest pain hit.
A metallic taste filled my mouth, and I spat blood onto the pristine white sheets.
Amid their panicked shouts,my consciousness faded.
When I opened my eyes,I stood in a room adorned with festive red.
Sunlight streamed through the window,firecrackers popping outside.
Pushing open the door,my parents,in their prime,beamed with joy,eyes teary.
Eleanor,in red bridal attire,stood among the crowd,her face unnaturally pale.
Then,a familiar commotion at the door:
A dozen colleagues from work,gifts in hand,poured into the wedding suite,congratulating me.
I fixed my gaze on Eleanor. True to form, her eyes were locked on the tallest figure in the room.
Charles and Margaret walked in arm-in-arm,smiling,presenting a beautifully wrapped vase:
“James,happy wedding!Wishing you and Mrs.James a lifetime of love and children soon!”
Charles’s handshake felt warm.
This was no dream—I'd been given a second chance!
Still reeling,I automatically accepted the gift.
The next second,Eleanor shoved through the crowd,smashing the vase to the floor.
Amid the gasps,only I saw the resolve in her eyes.
Eleanor had been reborn too.
Her fingers,white with force,yanked Charles from Margaret’s grasp,clasping his hand defiantly.
“I’m not getting married!”
“I’m going to marry the man I truly love!”
