
22/07/2025
After my wife died, I cast her son out of my life — and ten years later, I learned the truth that ruined me.
When my wife suddenly died of a stroke, she left me with a child who wasn’t my biological son.
He reminded me of her past, which she rarely spoke about — of the pregnancy she went through alone, of a chapter of her life she had hidden from me.
When I married her, I was 26 and thought I was accepting both her and her son.
But deep down, it wasn’t love — it was duty.
After her death, the mask came off. There was no one left to stop me.
A month after the funeral, I told him:
— Leave. You’re not my son. My wife is dead and I have no reason to keep you here. Go wherever you want.
He didn’t cry. He didn’t beg to stay. He just lowered his head and left in silence.
I sold the house, moved to another city, and started over. Life became simpler. My business grew. I met a new woman — no children, no obligations.
Sometimes I remembered the boy — not out of sorrow, but curiosity. But over time, even those thoughts faded.
Until one day, exactly ten years later, the phone rang:
— Sir, could you come to the art gallery this Saturday? There’s someone who’s been waiting a long time for this meeting.
I was about to hang up, but then I heard:
— Don’t you want to know what happened to the boy you left behind?
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