Giving Back the Son I Raised

"Jon, I made these barbecue ribs just for you. Eat up."

At the dinner table, my wife's stepbrother, William Small, kept piling food onto my son Jonathan Barkley's plate. The fatherly affection in his eyes was impossible to miss.

A moment later, he got up and walked over to the couch, returning with a robot toy set. "This is for you. Do you like it?"

Ten-year-old Jonathan thanked him politely. "I love it. Thank you, Uncle William."

William grinned from ear to ear, while I watched the scene quietly.

Ever since my wife gave birth to Jonathan, William would drop by our house every few days. Later, for convenience, he simply moved in with us, claiming he wanted to help take care of Jonathan so I could focus on work.

Everyone knew how much he loved Jonathan. Our friends even joked that he cared about the kid more than I did, even though I was his father. Our relatives often praised him as a wonderful uncle, saying that with his help in raising Jonathan, I had much less to worry about.

I was usually busy with work, so William often attended Jonathan's parent-teacher conferences in my place.

Once, I had gotten off early and taken a detour to pick Jonathan up from school, only to see my wife and William walking out hand in hand with Jonathan between them, looking like a happy family of three.

The other parents assumed William was Jonathan's father and kept complimenting him. "Jonathan is so well-behaved. As his dad, you've done a great job raising him."

William didn't correct them. He simply ruffled Jonathan's hair with a proud smile. As for me, I just smiled and said nothing.

I was pulled back to the present when my wife, Esther Small, looked at Jonathan and said, "Your Uncle William loves you so much. When you grow up, make sure you take good care of him."

Jonathan nodded. "I will."

Under the table, William grabbed Esther's hand. She blushed.

The two of them flirted right in front of me. I pretended not to notice, lowered my head, and finished my meal. Afterward, I went out for my usual walk.

When I returned home, William was lounging on the couch watching TV. "Esther, I'm out of clean underwear," he said. "Go buy me some, and make sure it's the same brand I always wear."

Esther smiled. "Alright. I'll go right now."

When she turned, she saw me standing there. The smile on her face stiffened slightly. "I'm going out to buy something for Will."

I looked at her calmly. "Okay."

William glanced at me. "Sean, you know Esther has spoiled me since we were kids. You don't mind her buying underwear for me, do you?" His tone was smug, as if he was afraid I would miss what was going on between them.

I ignored him and headed upstairs.

…

In the middle of the night, Esther quietly slipped out of bed while I was asleep.

Minutes later, I made my way to William's room. Standing outside his door, I could hear the unmistakable sounds coming from inside.

Esther and I had been classmates in college. She fell in love with me at first sight during freshman orientation and pursued me. The rest of the story was pretty cliche.

Right after graduation, I proposed to her. Her family was poor, and many of my friends said I was too good for her. But I never cared. I firmly believed we truly loved each other.

After we got married, I arranged a job for her in my family's company. Every month, I sent money to support her parents, and I even paid to build them a new house.

Whenever her relatives ran into trouble, they came to me for help or to borrow money. I never turned them away. I even found jobs for several of them.

For years after we got married, Esther and I couldn't have children. One day, she suggested we try IVF, and I agreed. I know how badly she wanted a child. Plus, we weren't getting any younger.

Jonathan was born without any complications. I watched him grow up day by day, sent him to the best schools, and gave him all the best resources.

All the while, I allowed William to come and go from our home as he pleased, watching coldly as he carried on with my wife.