Four months ago, I was diagnosed with lung cancer.
The diagnosis came too late and the doctors told us they were sorry and nothing more could be done. I knew it was time to embrace death. But I also knew it was time to put together my will.
One day, your mom and I stumbled upon your brothers’ cunning scheme.
They had falsified evidence of your love correspondence with another boy. You might be curious how I found out. Let’s not delve into that.
It’ll only make my blood boil to repeat those events. Suffice it to say that my eyes opened to the truth a little too late.
Now, I know that I can’t make up for those lost years. And I’m sorry for putting you through hell.
Ever since I found out about the setup, I’ve been unable to sleep. It’s not the illness, but the regret eating away at me.
Please find it in your heart to forgive me. Your brothers were blinded by greed and played that dirty game for inheritance.
But I will not let them have even a penny. You are my sole heir, my boy. Allow me to at least try and make some amends.
I will always love you. Your dad, Jacob.
Tears streamed down my face as I finished reading. A swirl of emotions churned inside me—anger, sadness, relief, confusion.
I yearned to have one last conversation with my dad, to confront him and my brothers, to yell, to cry, to understand. But none of that was possible now.
Aunt Helena, sensing the storm within me, placed her hand gently on my shoulder. “Take your time, Neal,” she said softly.
“You don’t have to decide anything right now.”
But the questions were already pounding in my head. Should I forgive my dad, who seemed truly remorseful but had only seen the light too late? Should I reconnect with my mom, who was also deceived but part of that betrayal?
And what about the inheritance, a tangible reminder of the past I’d worked so hard to move beyond?
These thoughts haunted me in the days that followed. I discussed them with Catherine, who listened patiently, helping me weigh the pros and cons. She was supportive, as always, a pillar in the unpredictable storm of my emotions.
The inheritance would secure a future for us, for the family we planned to start.
But could I accept it without feeling like I was betraying my own values? And then there were my brothers—should I confront them? Expose them?
It felt like reopening a wound just as it had begun to heal.
And so, dear readers, I turn to you. My life, which reads like a movie script filled with twists and betrayals, hangs in balance with these decisions. What do you think I should do?
Should I keep the inheritance and try to reconnect with my mom?
Should I confront my brothers? Or should I continue the life I’ve built with Catherine and let the past remain just that—the past? Your thoughts would be greatly appreciated.
