Chapter Four
1161 Words
Gregory’s POV
Brielle didn’t even let me catch my breath after getting home from work. She was already sitting at the edge of the couch, her expression sharp, her voice cutting through the silence before I could settle in.
“Why did they dump me with you?”
I froze mid-step, surprised at her approach.The word ‘dump’ slammed into me like a freight train. Brielle is a really sweet and calm girl. The sudden desire to know more about her mom but be really something.
“Dump?” I repeated. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Isn’t that what happened?” she shot back, her eyes glistening with frustration and her arms were folded. “I mean, I never got a call. Never a single message. Nothing. Not from my mom, not from her family. It’s like I didn’t exist to them.”
I sighed, running a hand down my face. I knew this moment was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Her family… it’s complicated, Brielle,” I began, my voice heavy with the weight of the past.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Complicated? That’s what people say when they don’t want to explain.”
I nodded slowly. She deserved the truth, no matter how ugly it was. “When your mom had you, her father had me arrested. I was thrown in jail for months. And it wasn’t just any jail—it was hell. Military-level brutality. He wanted to break me, and he did. Said the sight of you reminded him too much of me. He was furious—furious that I even existed.”
Her brows furrowed, her hands tightening into fists. “Why would he do that?”
“Because, to him, I was the lowest of the low. After I got out, he didn’t stop. He killed me with his words, Brielle. Every. Single. Time. His eyes, the way he looked at me, like I was a disgusting, lazy bastard who had no right to breathe the same air as his family. He accused me of trying to ‘hit it big’ by using his daughter. Those words cut deeper than anything else. I died inside every time I had to face him.”
Brielle’s chest rose and fell as she listened.
“I tried to prove him wrong,” I continued. “I worked myself to the bone, hoping he’d see I wasn’t lazy, that I was trying to be responsible. I thought, maybe… just maybe, he’d accept me. But no. He looked at me like I was cursed, like everything I touched would turn to ash. And because of that, I couldn’t bring myself to hold you. You were so perfect, so pure. I was terrified I’d ruin you just by touching you.”
A heavy sigh escaped her lips, her shoulders slumping. “That’s messed up,” she muttered.
“It wasn’t just about me,” I said, leaning forward, desperate for her to understand. “Your grandpa told me I had to take responsibility for you. I agreed because I wanted to prove I could. But the truth is, I was drowning. I was trying, Brielle. God knows I was. But I was just a servant in their eyes—a poor boy chasing a dream that wasn’t mine to have. Your mom… she was their princess. She was already dating someone else—a guy with their social status. He was her Prince Charming, the man they wanted her to be with. I was… nothing.”
Brielle’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing. “So she just moved on? Like it was nothing?”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that. Your mom… she was hurting too. She smiled sometimes, but not the way she used to when we first met. It wasn’t the smile that made my heart race when I saw her on that bus in school. This was different—distant. I could tell she was trying to hold herself together, but she was under so much pressure. Your grandma was the only one who showed me any kindness during that time.”
“What did she do?”
“She would tell me, ‘Don’t look at the baby like that, Gregory. She’s your child. Hold her.’ She saw the fear in my eyes, the self-doubt. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Every time she said it, it felt like a punch to the gut because I knew she was right, but I didn’t feel worthy. I’d failed everyone—your mom, you, myself.”
Brielle’s voice was sharp now. “So, what? They just kicked me out of the family?”
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “Your grandpa decided that having you in their home would… taint their image. At least, that’s what I think. They wanted to preserve their pristine reputation. At the time, your mom was preparing to get married, and… I guess you didn’t fit into their picture-perfect narrative.”
Brielle’s face hardened. “Well, I hope her new family is flawless. Wouldn’t want to ruin their spotless bloodline.”
I winced at the bitterness in her tone. “It’s not your mom’s fault, Brielle. She was devastated when she had to let you go. I believe, deep down, she’s never stopped thinking about you.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “Then why hasn’t she reached out? Not once? If she cared so much, she could’ve at least sent a message.”
I didn’t have an answer for that, so I continued with the story instead. “The day your grandpa told me I had to take full responsibility for you, I was standing in their grand living room, surrounded by everything I’d never have. My throat was dry, my chest tight. I wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come.
‘It’s not easy, my boy, but you’ll be fine,’ your grandma said, her voice soft and reassuring. She was the only one who believed in me, but her kindness broke me even more. I ran outside and cried like I hadn’t cried in years. It was all too much, Brielle. I didn’t think I’d make it.”
For the first time, Brielle was silent. She wasn’t firing back with questions or sarcastic remarks. She just stared at me, her eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite place—anger, hurt, maybe even pity.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I wish I could’ve done more for you. I wish I could’ve been better.”
Brielle leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “You did what you could, I guess,” she said quietly. “But it still hurts, you know? Knowing I was just… left behind.”
For a moment, neither of us said anything. Because what else was there to say?
- Writer
