The night I told Richard I was pregnant, I thought it would be one of the happiest moments of our lives. We had run away together at eighteen, full of dreams and reckless love. I imagined he’d smile, hold me close, and talk about our future as a family. Instead, he looked at me with disbelief — then anger. “You did this on purpose,” he said coldly. “I never wanted kids.” His words sliced through me, but I still hoped he’d calm down. That hope shattered when he came home drunk the next night and threw me out of our apartment. I stood there in the cold, clutching my stomach, realizing I was suddenly alone — not just for that night, but for the life ahead.
The next morning, I went back, praying he’d open the door. But he’d changed the locks. When I called his parents for help, his mother accused me of cheating — claiming the baby wasn’t his. That lie spread faster than truth ever could. From that day on, I stopped expecting anyone to save me. I worked long hours, did whatever it took to survive, and poured every ounce of love into my son, Greg. He became my reason to keep going — kind, determined, and fiercely protective. By the time he was fifteen, he was already helping me with bills, working part-time jobs while still excelling in school.
Years passed, and Greg grew into a man any mother would be proud of. He built a business from scratch and, by twenty-six, was one of the most successful young entrepreneurs in the city. Yet behind that success burned a quiet rage — one that never faded when he thought of the father who abandoned us. One day, Greg told me he wanted to “see” Richard. I sensed something dark in his voice but didn’t stop him. He drove to the run-down house his father now lived in, clutching a baseball bat, ready to release decades of anger. But when he saw Richard — old, frail, and barely able to carry out the trash — something inside Greg broke. Revenge suddenly felt empty. He realized the man who once threw us away was already paying the price.
Instead of violence, Greg made a choice his father never had — to act with dignity. He learned Richard’s house was being sold to cover his debts and quietly bought it himself. A few days later, Richard arrived at the real estate office to finalize the sale — and froze when he saw me and Greg sitting across the table. Greg didn’t shout. He simply looked his father in the eyes and said, “If I see you again, we’ll have a problem.” The same words Richard once said to me. As we left, I felt tears in my eyes — not of pain, but of peace. Life had come full circle, proving that time, not hatred, delivers the truest justice.