“I deserved those golf clubs! I was entitled to that money!”
Liam looked between us, confusion turning into horror.
“Mom… I’m sorry. He told me you destroyed our family.”
He had been giving Derek money for months.
Believing it was his duty.
Believing he was helping a dying father.
Derek smirked.
“A son should take care of his father.”
Then Liam stepped forward—placing himself between us.
“No. You don’t get to call yourself my father.”
His voice was steady.
“You left. You stole. You lied. You used me.”
He continued:
“I helped you because my mom taught me kindness—not because you earned it. But I’m not your wallet. I’m not your caretaker. And you don’t get to threaten me or my mother ever again.”
Derek stumbled back, humiliated.
He muttered something under his breath and disappeared into the night.
Liam turned to me, tears streaming down his face.
“I’m sorry, Mama… I didn’t want to betray you.”
I held him tightly.
