To avoid the debt collectors, I moved many times, living in dirty, dilapidated places.
After finally enduring the hardest ten years, I met a kind female boss.
She was divorced with a child herself and sympathized with my hardship, so she hired me to work at her barbecue restaurant.
After my job stabilized, I also thought about finding a partner.
However, I had no house, no car, nothing to my name, and I was raising a child in her early teens. It was truly difficult to date.
Finally, I met a simple woman from the countryside who seemed to genuinely not care about my financial situation. I thought I could settle down, but after less than two months, she ran off.
She only left me a note, apologizing and saying she could never let go of her ex–husband and child, so she had to quietly leave.
From then on, I completely gave up on looking for a partner.
Eighteen years passed. I painstakingly raised the child into an adult.
But at her celebration party, Derek, who was supposed to be dead, appeared.
And he claimed it was all just a test for me.
Did I *have to be his friend?
I wasted the most precious eighteen years of my life!
Without that child, I could have smoothly graduated with my Master’s, joined a good company, had a respectable job, and a loving,
happy family.
My life should have been thriving, but it was ruined because of him!
Even the child I poured my heart and soul into, chose her biological parents at the moment of conflict, and turned against me.
Thinking of this, the hatred surging within me threatened to drown me.
I clenched my fists, saying each word clearly, “No, I refuse.”
“I can send her to an orphanage, but I will absolutely not raise your child.”
Hearing my refusal, Derek stopped playing the dying man, sat up abruptly, and pointed at me, yelling full of vigor.
Alex, are you even human?! You call me your brother, but in reality, you’re ungrateful, cold–blooded, and heartless!”
“You wouldn’t donate blood to save me, fine. But you won’t even raise my only daughter? What kind of a brother are you, you piece of garbage!”
I watched him coolly. “Oh, Derek, you seem pretty energetic now, don’t you? You don’t look like you’re about to die at all. Did this quack doctor misdiagnose you?”