09/28/2025
After My Wife D!ed, I Threw Her Son—Who Wasn’t My Blood—Out of the House. Ten Years Later, a Truth Came to Light That Shattered Me
I threw his worn bag to the floor and looked at the 12-year-old boy with cold, lifeless eyes.
“Get out. You are not my son. My wife is gone — I have no reason to keep taking care of you. Go wherever you want.”
He didn’t cry.
He didn’t beg.
He only lowered his head, picked up his old bag with the broken strap, and walked out the door in silence — without saying a single word.
Ten years later, when the truth came to light…
All I wished was to be able to turn back time.
My wife had died suddenly of a stroke, leaving me alone with a 12-year-old boy.
But he was not my son.
He was the result of a relationship she had before meeting me — a love story she never shared with anyone. A pregnancy she faced alone, without a partner.
When I married her at 26, I admired her — a strong woman who had raised a child by herself.
I told myself: “I accept her, and I accept her son too.”
But love that doesn’t come from the heart… never lasts.
I cared for the boy, but not out of love — out of obligation.
And when my wife died, everything fell apart.
Nothing held me back anymore.
No reason to keep him in my life.
He was always quiet, respectful, but distant.
Deep down, I knew — I never loved him.
A month after his mother’s funeral, I told him:
“Go. I don’t care if you live or die.”
I thought he would cry.
I thought he would beg.
But he didn’t.
He left in silence.
And me? I felt nothing. No guilt. No pity.
I sold the old house. I moved to a new place.
Life got better. My business prospered.
I met a new woman.
No children. No burdens. Peace. Comfort.
During the first years, sometimes I thought about the boy — not out of concern, just out of curiosity.
Where might he have ended up? Was he still alive?
Over time, even that curiosity faded.
A 12-year-old orphan, with no family, no place to go — where could he have ended up?
I didn’t know.
I didn’t care.
In fact, once I even told myself:
“If he died, maybe it was for the best. At least he wouldn’t suffer anymore.”
And one day — exactly ten years later…
My phone rang. The number was unknown.
“Hello, sir? Would you be available to attend the opening of an art gallery this Saturday? Someone really wants you to be there.”
I was about to hang up — I didn’t know any artist.
But before I could, the voice on the other end said something that froze my blood:
“Do you want to know what happened to the boy you abandoned all those years ago?” Read more in Comment or Most relevant -> All comments 👇
