There was a visible ripple through the courtroom. My mother froze. Her face drained of color, her lips parting just slightly, like she wanted to interrupt but didn’t dare.
“I did a DNA test a few years ago, Rhys,” Grandpa continued. “For us both… I did it after your mother hinted that Marianne was the only one who’d ever give me blood-related grandkids. I know you’re not my biological grandson. But I don’t care. Blood means nothing if love isn’t behind it.”
He leaned forward and his voice became warmer.
“You were the only one who treated me like a human, not a wallet on legs. Rhys, you paid a visit. You assisted me in taking a bath when I was too tired to do it alone. Son, you cooked with me and listened to my stories. That house is yours. I want it to be yours. And I do not want that dishonest, deceitful wife or her spoilt daughter to receive a single brick of it.”
After the video concluded, quiet fell like snow. Thick, thick, and stuffy.
The judge looked around the room and then cleared his throat.
“I see no reason to contest the will. This case is dismissed and Ezra’s Last Will and Testament will remain upheld.”
The judge, citing the unambiguous clarity of the will and video, ruled without delay.
That was it.
But everything had already changed. And still, karma wasn’t done.
See, when my mother filed that lawsuit, she didn’t just lie… she had to confess her affair to make it stand, claiming that I had no inheritance rights to Grandpa Ezra’s home.
Her deepest secret had become public record. And people love to talk. Soon her friends, church folk, and even distant cousins turned to gossip.
The whispers started slowly. Then they gained momentum and became louder. People stopped inviting Lenora to functions. Marianne’s neighbors moved across the street to avoid eye contact. The air surrounding them soured into something permanent.
Tyler, Marianne’s husband, who had already doubted her ability to lie and manipulate, saw the lawsuit as the final straw. He sought full custody of the twins.
“I cited emotional instability, Rhys,” he told me once, when we’d run into each other at the grocery store. “I won. I know she’s your sister, but she’s… not committed to these kids. The last few weeks have been difficult but the three of us have gotten into a routine.”
“Tyler, you’re more than welcome to bring the kids over,” I said. “We can have a backyard barbecue.”
“I’ll hold you to that, brother,” he said, whisking his trolley away.
My sister has moved in with Lenora. They were just two bitter ladies in a two-bedroom house, suffocating with the weight of their own decisions.
Meanwhile, I settled into my grandfather’s house properly.
I painted the porch the lovely green he usually mentioned. I dug out the weeds in the backyard and planted lavender. I hung his favorite fishing photograph near the front door.
The kitchen still smelled like the stew he adored… like thyme, remembrance, and warmth that demanded nothing in return.
One Sunday, I drove Cooper, my rescue dog, a gangly mutt with a heart too big for his paws, to the graveyard. We sat next to my grandfather’s grave, the early morning sun just caressing the top of the monument.
I’m proud to be your grandson,” I murmured, putting one palm on the cool marble.
Cooper ran laps around the cemetery until he was weary, and then we went.
I was wondering if she saw my biological father every time she looked at me.
Was this why she always kept me at arm’s length? Did my looks remind her of a mistake or an act of defiance she could never undo?
I did not know. And maybe I never will. Because I didn’t need the answers. I already had the one father figure I’d ever needed. And I wasn’t concerned about blood, DNA, or the name of the man who helped create me.
I did not want to find him. Nobody alive could ever fill Ezra’s shoes.
And honestly? I was done looking for anyone else.
