I WAS A PROSTITUTE & MY DAD WHO HAD DIVORCED MY MOM HIRED ME FOR THE NIGHT
I WAS A PROSTITUTE & MY DAD WHO HAD DIVORCED MY MOM HIRED ME FOR THE NIGHT
EPISODE 17
Written by ©GAMBO ELVIS
I was anxious to see my dad and speak with him. The moment I heard he had regained consciousness, I rushed into the hospital ward without knocking. When my eyes fell on him, I felt relief flood my heart.
“Dad! You’re awake,” I said, my voice trembling.
He lay there with his eyes open, but his expression was heavy with sadness.
“Why did you abandon me here alone?” he asked in a low voice. “My wife told me she left me in your care, but you left with one of your… clients.”
“Clients?” I frowned, confused.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “She said the man who just dropped you off had hired you… for the night.”
His wife’s words cut through me like a knife. She had deliberately dragged up my past in the cruelest way possible. My heart burned with anger and humiliation.
“So that’s what you told my father?” I asked her, my voice shaking.
She looked at me with a smug expression.
Dad’s eyes filled with hurt and disappointment. “Why did you go back to that lifestyle?” he asked, his voice breaking. “I thought I pleaded with you to stop. I thought you wanted to change—”
Before he could finish, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into silence again. Panic shot through me. He had slipped back into a coma. His wife’s venomous words had thrown him into a shock.
My suspicion grew stronger. I had always felt she wanted him to remain like this—silent, unmoving—forever. By using my past, she was trying to destroy my relationship with my father. I wasn’t proud of the life I once lived, but I had been working hard to leave it behind. Yet, she kept dragging it into my present and threatening my future.
I thought about leaving the hospital, disappearing so she could never use me to hurt him again. But I remembered the last time I walked away. Dad had driven recklessly, searching for me, and that was when he had the accident that put him in his current condition. For his safety, I had to stay.
As I stepped out of the ward to clear my head, I overheard her speaking in a low, urgent voice to her son.
“You’re my only son,” she said, “and you must protect your birthright. Don’t let anyone walk in from nowhere and take what belongs to you. Your father already thinks highly of her, and if we’re not careful, she might become his favorite heir.”
“Mom, Dad wouldn’t do that,” the boy replied.
“Don’t be naïve,” she snapped. “If he recovers, he might change his will. We can’t even give him the chance to think about it. Make life so uncomfortable for her that she’ll leave on her own.”
“But I’m the only male child,” he protested.
“And so what? A will doesn’t care if you’re male or female. Assets can be shared with anyone your father chooses. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mom,” he said reluctantly.
“Good.”
I quietly walked back into the ward, pretending I had heard nothing. But my heart was pounding. It was clear she didn’t want my father to recover. The more I thought about it, the more I realized she saw me as a threat, not just to her comfort, but to her children’s inheritance.
Still, my prayer was for my father to get up, recover quickly, and be strong enough to tell me the truth and assure me of where I stood in his life.
From time to time, I would leave his side to check on my mother, who was also in the hospital but slowly improving thanks to the intense treatment my father had arranged for her. She didn’t even know he was the one paying her bills. That alone told me that despite the years and the divorce, he still cared for her deeply.
My stepmother’s attitude only grew colder as the days passed. She never raised her hand against me, but the hostility in her eyes was enough to chill my blood. She was already instigating her children against me, planting seeds of hatred and suspicion. I knew I had to be careful.
One thing that gave me strength was Liam. He called me almost every day to check on me. His voice was always calm, encouraging me not to give up. Yet, I began to feel uneasy about him visiting the hospital too often. I didn’t want to give my stepmother more ammunition to twist against me.
I decided to stay quiet, endure her behavior, and remain steadfast by my father’s side until he woke up again. Because when he did, I knew the truth would come out—and the lies she was weaving would unravel in front of everyone.
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