I Paid for a Toddler’s Insulin After His Mom’s Card Was Declined – Two Days Later, a Rough-Looking Guy Showed Up at My Door with a Threat

A man stood on my porch, mid-forties, rough around the edges.

His shirt was stained. His jaw was clenched tight. There was a faded tattoo curling up his neck — some kind of skull or maybe a snake — and his eyes were bloodshot, the kind that come from a long night or a longer life.

“Hey.

Are you Charlie?” he asked, stepping forward.

“I am,” I said slowly. “Who are you?”

He looked over at me and sneered.

“So, you’re the idiot who paid for insulin at the pharmacy?”

I felt the air shift, the way it does before a thunderstorm.

“Yes,” I said simply.

“Good,” he growled, jabbing a finger into my chest. “Then listen up.

You had no right to do that.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked slowly.

“You paying for stuff for my kid… What, are you trying to get with Tessa now? Are you trying to play daddy to my kid?”

“What?”

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