The day my wife gave birth to my foster brother's child, my entire family waited tensely outside the delivery room.

They were not concerned about whether Sheila Rogers would make it through labor safely.

They were worried I might turn up and make a scene.

My mother kept glancing at the elevator. "He won't try to come up the stairs, will he?"

My father was on the phone with hospital security again and again. "Yes, about six foot three. Have you seen him?"

My brother stayed coiled and ready, fists clenched. "If my brother causes trouble, I'll lay down my life to protect Sheila and my son."

However, from the start of labor to the moment Sheila delivered safely and both mother and child were declared healthy, I never showed up.

Reclining on the hospital bed, Sheila took out her phone and asked my mother to call me.

"Tell Hank not to cause any trouble," she said calmly. "If he's willing to be the child's godfather, we can still live our lives together."

She felt absolutely no guilt toward me.

From her perspective, she had merely granted my parents their long-standing wish for a grandchild.

What fault could there possibly be in that?

What no one knew was that I had never planned to go to the hospital.

At that very moment, I was training beneath the scorching sun.

All for a single reason: in one month, I would deploy with my unit to Safrana on a peacekeeping mission.

Once I left, there would be little chance of ever coming back.

Sheila Rogers was in the hospital for a whole week before she finally got to come home.

I had just finished up at the training field and when I opened the front door, there they were, my whole family, huddled around the couch.

"Wow, look at this little one. His eyes and nose are just like Sheila's, but that mouth is a spitting image of John's."

"Mom, the baby's too little to tell," John Freeman said with a grin.

"Sheila, you've been through so much."

John gently kissed Sheila's forehead, his eyes shining with love.

Dad was sitting off to the side, his eyes all wrinkled up from smiling so much.

"How can you not see it? I tell you, it's a good thing this baby is yours. If Hank had a kid, there wouldn't be much hope for the poor thing."

He used to be so proud of me for joining the army.

Even though I left without knowing when I would come back, Dad always said that a man had to be ready to protect his country.

However, coming home now, it felt as if everything had changed.

Looking at the family of five, so full of happiness, all I could feel was a sour twist in my heart and a sense of how silly it all was.

Four years back, I left for the army right after Sheila and I got married. I could not stand the thought of her waiting for me, so young and alone.

If I did not make it back, she would become a widow before we even had a chance at life together.

I tried to get her to divorce me, and to go find happiness somewhere else, but Sheila just grabbed my hand, her eyes brimming with tears, and would not hear of it.

"Hank, do you really see me as someone who can't handle being alone?”

"My husband is out there fighting for our country. How could I leave you, especially now?”

"I'll look after your folks and wait for you to come home."

The day I left, Mom, Dad, and Sheila took me to the train station.

Mom and Dad were trying so hard not to cry.

They held my hands, looking into my face with eyes that seemed cloudy with worry, their lips quivering.

"Hank, don't you worry. Your mom and I will be right here at home, waiting for you to come back."

"That's right, Hank. You've got nothing to fret about. Your dad and I are so proud of you."

I had been on the brink of life and death more times than I could count.

Each time, it was the thought of them that brought me back.

However, two months ago, when I came home after leaving the army, I walked into a totally different world.

My spot in the family had been taken by another guy.

"Bro, you're back." John's voice snapped me back to reality.

Everyone else looked up at me too.

My dad saw the dirt all over me and his eyebrows knitted together in a frown.

"Just look at you! Are you trying to embarrass us for no good reason?!”

"Did you really have to pick today, when Sheila's coming home from the hospital, to stir up trouble?!"

My mom chimed in right after him.

The mom who used to worry about me, who would get all banged up from training, now looked at me like I was just a bother.

Sheila was sitting on the couch, glowing like only a new mom can.

"Hank, I know you're upset.:

"However, you were gone for so many years. Even if I could handle it, mom and dad needed a kid.”

"You can't just think of yourself without even leaving them a grandkid."

Hearing Sheila's words, I stifled a laugh.

"A grandkid? An adopted kid doesn't count."

"Hank, what are you talking about?!" My dad banged his fist on the table and stood up, staring me down with anger.

"If John hadn't been here, I would've died from a heart attack right there on the street, you know!”

"He's got no parents and has the same last name as us. He's like a gift from heaven!”

"Let me tell you something. If you can talk in a civil manner, you're still welcome in this house.”

"But if you really want to start trouble, I won't hesitate to set things straight myself!"

My dad's anger was like a storm brewing. His eyebrows would arch high and his eyes would grow wide, making him look super scary.

In the old days, worried about his heart, I would have quickly said sorry in a soft voice.

However, I just stood there, not budging an inch.

Dad was about to hit me when John stepped in.

"Let it go, Dad. It's okay if he can't come around just yet."

John stood between me and Dad, giving me a look that was all about being honest.

"Bro, we're throwing a party for the baby. I want you there that day, as the baby's dad."

I thought about the date.

The party was the same day I was due back with my unit. Well, I would make sure it was a party to remember.

"Alright."

I headed into the bathroom to take a shower, all by myself.

However, the sound of their happy chatter did not stop at the door, it followed me, clear as day.

"John, what should we name the baby?"

"You pick, Sheila. You're the mom, so you get to decide."

John's voice was soft, and Sheila sounded like she really leaned on him.

The cold water ran down my neck, and my thoughts sharpened.

I could not forget how, two months ago, I had come home happy and excited.

However, when I opened the door, there was Sheila, big belly and all.

She did not look happy to see me, just scared.

"You! Why are you back?!"

Before I could say anything, a strange guy came out of our bedroom.

"Who's that, Sheila?"

He was wearing my PJs and my slippers.

When he saw me, he quickly put Sheila behind him.

Our wedding picture was gone from the house.

John eyed me suspiciously and asked, "Who are you?!"

"John, he... he's Hank, my husband."

In that instant, I felt like all my blood was rushing straight to my head.

I could not think anymore, and all I heard was a buzzing sound.

After Sheila spoke, John came toward me with a grin.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm John, your brother, and I'm also the dad of your kid, I..."

However, I did not let him finish. My fist spoke for me.

"Go to hell!!"

I tackled him to the ground, punching his face again and again.

Sheila's screams echoed around us.

She tried to stop me, but she was too scared to get close.

One thought echoed in my head.

I had to get rid of that intruder.

Then, my mom's slap hit me hard.

My dad dragged me away, and I ended up sitting on the floor.

My own parents stood there, scolding me.

Their angry looks stuck with me like a bad dream for a long time.

Later, I found out the truth.

While I was gone for four years, John had become like a son to my parents.

He looked after them, and even my wife.

That night, I sat on the couch, finishing a whole pack of cigarettes.

Sheila sat next to me, her tears soaking a whole box of tissues.

Through her sobs, she told me she did it all for me.

"You were in the army for years. I was okay, but what about your parents?!”

"They're old. They just wanted a grandkid around. What's so wrong about that?!”

"John said that the baby would call you dad, and it wouldn't matter to him.”

"He's done so much for us, so why can't you just accept it?"

Under the warm glow of the living room lights, I gazed at her face.

Only four years had passed, yet it felt like an entire lifetime had passed between us.

As the last wisp of smoke from my cigarette faded away, I asked in a raspy whisper, "Do you love him?"

Sheila did not say a word, but the way her hand stopped moving told me everything I needed to know.

In that moment, I realized how silly my anger and shame were.

"Hank, John's been staying with us lately.”

"Go ahead and move your stuff to the guest room."

I had just stepped out of the bathroom when I heard my dad's firm voice.

"Why?" I tried to sound nonchalant.

However, they stood up quickly, as if I had accused them of something.

My mom pointed at me, her voice filled with blame. "John's been nice enough to let the kid call you dad! However, the child is his own! What's wrong with him sharing a room with the child's mother?!”

"Hank, don't be so selfish."

I had heard that accusation so many times in the past two months.

Any hint of disagreement from me, and they would label me as selfish.

However, the real selfishness lay with someone else.

I wanted to fight back, but knowing I would be leaving in a month, I just closed my mouth and moved my things to the other room.

That night, after a full day of training, I should have been out like a light the moment my head hit the pillow.

However, the odd noises from the next room kept me awake.

"Wait, I just had a baby, this isn't right..."

"What's not right, Sheila? I've missed you so much."

"Hank's in the next room!"

"What of it? He can't hear us. And even if he could, wouldn't that make it more exciting?”