A Millionaire Demolished My Old House and Came Back on His Knees After Finding His Childhood Photo in the Ruins

“No?”

“You are my grandson,” I said.

The word fit.

“And I’ll accept this house,” I went on. “And your time. Nothing more.

I don’t need your money. I need your visits. Your love.”

His face just… broke.

He nodded fast, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

He started coming every week.

Sometimes in a suit.

Sometimes in jeans.

Sometimes with groceries.

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