“Let me remind you that this house belongs to me. I let them live here because they were going to start a family together,” he continued. “But if you treat Natasha like she’s disposable, you can consider yourself out. Effective immediately.”
Logan paled. “What… what are you saying?”
Mr. Duncan didn’t even blink. “I say Natasha stays and you go. Not only that, but from now on, I’ll leave you penniless. I think all my money and support is gone. Do you think you can act like this? Disrespect your wife and make our family look bad because of a midlife crisis and a 20-year-old gold digger? Not as long as I live.”
“Grandpa!”
“Go away now!”
Once Logan and Brenda had left, Mr. Duncan let me in and explained why he had come. “Natasha, my son told me about your and Logan’s fertility problems, and I came to offer to pay for the IVF.”
“Oh, Lord,” I stammered. Finally, my emotions were rising to the surface.
“But it seems I arrived just in time to see this disaster in its place. “You don’t deserve any of this,” he continued, and I could hardly bear his kindness.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you, Mr. Duncan… I… didn’t know what to do, so I started putting everything in my car.”
He placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder and shook his head. “There’s no need. Think of this house as yours. I’ll take care of all the paperwork and make it official. This is also my apology for not raising a better grandson.”
I nodded as tears fell from my eyes.
In the days that followed, Mr. Duncan kept his word. My name was on the deed, and Logan was deprived of his money and family support.
I heard Brenda didn’t stay long when she realized the bank accounts were closed and Logan was apparently living with friends.
It must have been a serious blow to his ego, because he came crawling back a few weeks after that scene in my garden.
He was still wearing the same clothes as that day and he looked horrible.
“I made a mistake. I have nothing left. The rest of my family won’t help me. Can you call my grandfather?” “He’ll listen to you,” Logan said without preamble. “I can’t live like this.”
There was no apology or real remorse for what he did to me. He only regretted losing his family’s money and influence.
So I had to say the words that anyone in my situation would want to say. ‘No! You made your bed, lie in it.’ It was cliché and cruel, but trust me, it was very satisfying at the time.
His expression immediately turned angry, and before he could hurl insults at me, I slammed the door in his face. I could still hear his screams, but his words were rushing towards me with a vengeance.
Maybe I’ll feel bad for him later. But what did you expect? Smug little brat!
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the storytelling. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental and not the author’s intention.
The author and publisher do not guarantee the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not responsible for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is” and the opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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