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I Chose My Rich Mother Over My Poor Father… and Paid the Price

by

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He opened his eyes and smiled.

“I always knew you’d come back,” he whispered. “I know the kid I raised.”

I called my mother, desperate, begging for help. Her voice was cold, detached. “If you’re choosing him,” she said, “don’t bother coming back.”

That moment shattered the last illusion I had about her.

I stayed with my dad. I slept on the hospital floor. I helped however I could. Days later, he slowly began to recover. And as I watched him fight his way back to life, I finally understood the truth.

 

 

He never gave up on me—even when I gave up on him.

That’s what real love looks like.

Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only.

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