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?”

"Shelia, who do you think is stronger, me or your husband?"

"Um... it's definitely you..."

I shut my eyes and gripped my fists so hard, but I could not help remembering our first date.

Back then, Sheila would turn red just from holding hands. Maybe time really did change everything.

I tossed and turned all night.

At the crack of dawn, I dragged myself to the training field.

This mission was going to be even more dangerous than the last, so I had to be in prime condition in order not to let my team down.

However, as I trained, all the things that bothered me kept popping into my head. Sheila's adoring looks at John and how my parents always took his side. It all made me so mad.

That anger drove me as I trained, and I pretended the punching bag was John. I hit it so hard it burst.

On my way home, I grabbed a couple of sandwiches to eat. Then I heard a voice I knew.

"Bro?"

I turned and saw them standing not too far away. John was all dressed up in a suit, his hair slicked back, and wearing fancy glasses. He looked pretty sharp.

"Bro, is that really you? What's with the..."

He looked me over, not sure what to say.

I was a mess, just out of the gym, wearing a white tank top with my jacket in my hand. Next to John, I must have looked pretty rough.

Sheila scrunched her brow, standing by John, her hand just barely covering her nose. I noticed every little thing she did.

After every training session back in the day, Sheila would rush into my arms without hesitation.

I would always push her away, complaining about being all sweaty.

However, Sheila never cared.

She would say my sweat belonged to our country, and she was too proud to think of it as anything else.

In the end, it became painfully clear who loved me, and who did not.

"Hank, where have you been to get so messy?”

"You might not care, but we do!" My mom's voice snapped me back to reality, dripping with disapproval.

It's like all those times she lovingly patched me up and made me soup were from another lifetime.

"Bro, I get it.”

"Did you leave the service with nothing to do, so you started doing construction work?”

"Bro, if you're struggling to find a job, just tell me. I can hook you up! No need to put yourself down like this!"

John seemed to have my back.

However, he slapped the "construction worker" label on me before I could even speak.

I wanted to set things straight, but seeing Sheila and the others looking at me with disgust, I clamped my mouth shut.

"Him? Let's not have him embarrass us at our company.”

"He's all muscles and nothing more." My dad's icy laugh cut through the air, his eyes never meeting mine.

Back when I joined the military straight out of the academy, my dad was so proud. He bragged about me all over social media.

When someone teased him, saying I was just a brawler who could not hit the books, he argued with them all night.

In the morning, with bags under his eyes, he gave me a tired smile and a pat on the shoulder.

"Son, you go defend our country, and I'll have your back," he said.

However, even he used to call me a muscle-bound dummy back then.

I hung my head, hiding the sting in my eyes.

"Hey, bro, we're heading out to grab some food. Wanna come with us?"

"Nah, let's not bother, John. That place is fancy dress, and Hank's not really... you know."

Sheila spoke softly, but her point was crystal clear.

"Got it.

"Well then, we'll be off, brother." John gave me a wave goodbye.

I watched them leave, John in the middle of the crowd, hand in hand with Sheila, looking totally at ease.

It's okay.

They wanted someone like John to be their son and husband, not me.

I'll let them have that.

4

Half a month slipped by in silence.

It was time for Dad's surgery follow-up.

I woke up early to get everything ready to take him to the hospital.

No matter how he had been to me, he was still my dad.

The doctor who did his surgery was a top-notch guy I had begged a military bigwig to bring in. He hardly ever did surgeries for just anyone.

However, when Dad saw me all set to go, he scowled. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you for your checkup."

"Don't bother, John's going to pick me up later. If it hadn't been for John, I'd have died from that heart attack!

"Hmph, having you as a son is no different from not having one at all!"

"John, who I barely knew, was willing to get Dr. Jefferson to help me out!"

Dad's words hit me like a bomb.

Dr. Jefferson was the doctor I had asked for!

"What are you talking about?! Dr. Jefferson was the one I asked for! I..."

"You asked for him? Hank, you're not the one hurting, so it's easy for you to lie!

"Who do you think you are, talking like you're in charge? Who's Dr. Jefferson to you?

"You've been in the army for a few years and now you think you're someone special?"

Dad just scoffed at me, not bothering to hear me out.

However, his face softened when he saw John.

"Bro, are you coming with us to the hospital?"

"Why bother with him? He'd just mess things up." Dad grabbed John's arm and headed for the door, but not without throwing a couple of jabs my way.

"Hank, try to be honest for once, will you? Stop letting your mom and me down!"

That's when it hit me.

Maybe the truth did not really matter.

In Dad's eyes, John was the son he had chosen.

Me? I was just the unlucky guy who did not fit into his plans, back from serving my country.

I slumped on the couch, my phone buzzing non-stop.

Sheila was on a shopping spree with my extra credit card.

I had earned my stripes in the service, and all the money the army gave me, I had put on that card.

I wanted to give Sheila a better life.

It turned out that it was all just wishful thinking on my part.

On the day of the big party, the restaurant was packed with relatives.

I sat by myself, texting back and forth with my army buddies.