He Paid for His Father’s Cancer,Then the Will Gave Everything to His Brother

"Exactly! You've gone too far!" "Harry's always been the good one—he actually cares about Dad." "Look how thin your father's gotten! And who do you think he's been suffering for?" I laughed, the sound bitter and hollow. "Right. I'm kicking out my own father. I'm the ungrateful son. But Dad—" I locked eyes with him. "Tell me. Who exactly have you been wasting away for? In over twenty years of your so-called sacrifice, was any of it ever for me?" Dad dabbed at the corner of his eye. "How... how can you say that? If I wasn't doing it for you, then who?" "Liar." A mirthless smile twisted my lips. "When I was eighteen, Harry told you I'd hit him. You didn't ask for my side of the story—you just slapped me across the face. Ten times. When I threatened to leave home, you know what you said?" I paused, letting the silence stretch. "You said if I had the guts, I should go die out there. You said one son was enough for you—and that son was Harry." The color drained from Dad's face. Harry Dickerson stepped forward, panicked. "Merlin, you can't just—" "You don't get to speak." I cut him off cold. "Harry, I'm not going to dig up every time you've set me up over the years. But right now? You're the last person who gets to call me ungrateful." My voice dropped, each word landing like a hammer. "The only thing you did when Dad got sick was make one phone call. To me. And then what? For three years—three years—who do you think was here? Who paid for everything? Who gave up everything? Did you spend a single dollar? Lift a single finger? Pour your entire savings into keeping him alive?" Harry looked away, unable to meet my eyes. I let out a cold laugh. "Three years without a single visit. But the moment there's an inheritance to collect, suddenly you're the devoted son?" "That's enough!" Dad's expression hardened. "Your brother didn't visit because he was preparing for graduate school! His concern for me never wavered—he messaged me every single day!" His voice rose, trembling with indignation. "But you? I always knew you only came back for the money. You disappear for years, then show up out of nowhere? You think I can't see right through you?" The people around us shot me disapproving looks. "Young man, don't burn your bridges. You can't put a price on family." "Exactly. A father knows his son best. If your dad's leaving everything to Harry, it's because he knows exactly what kind of person you are. Probably all smiles to his face while stabbing him in the back." Harry wiped at his reddened eyes, the picture of wounded innocence. I smiled—a smile with no warmth in it—and turned back to Dad. "He skipped out on caring for you because of grad school. Fine. But I quit my job for you. Does that count for nothing?" The room went still. Before anyone could react, I snatched the will from Harry's hands. Then I pulled out the stack of hospital bills I'd kept—three years' worth—and threw the whole pile into Dad's lap. "I spent ten years saving up a million dollars. Every last cent went to you. You wouldn't even buy yourself a new towel—I thought you were barely scraping by. I sold everything I had to cover your medical bills." My voice cracked, but I pushed through. "And now I find out you had ten million this whole time. You were never struggling. You just wanted to make sure Harry got every penny." "What?!" Even the young woman supporting Dad's arm stared at him in disbelief. I laughed again, the sound scraping against my throat. "So what about me? I've given you a million dollars over the years. Do I deserve to die? Am I just supposed to be Harry's stepping stone?" "Grandpa, you..." The young woman picked up one of the receipts, her eyes wide as she looked at Dad. "You had ten million dollars and didn't spend any of it? You just... bled your older son dry?" "That's not—" Dad started to explain, but someone from the next room had seen enough. "Oh, give it a rest!" A woman stepped into the doorway, arms crossed. "I've watched Merlin run himself ragged for three years taking care of you. Three hours of sleep a night. Working harder than any hired nurse. Favoritism is one thing, but this is beyond the pale." Every pair of eyes in the room turned back to Dad and Harry. The looks had changed.

"Grandpa, you're playing favorites!" "You've got ten million dollars anyway—either pay for the treatment yourself, or don't blame your eldest son for being heartless!" "Exactly! If not him, make your second son pay!" Dad's eyes went red. "He's still just a kid. How could I ask him for money?" I let out a cold laugh. I shoved Harry aside and walked out without looking back. Once I left the hospital, I headed for my rental apartment. The Audi I'd saved up for five years ago—that was gone too, sold off over the years to cover Dad's medical bills. I stumbled onto the subway in a daze. My phone buzzed with a message from Dad: You're just leaving like that? Abandoning your father alone in the hospital? They're already trying to discharge me. I was exhausted beyond words. Don't you have money? Just pay the bill. Absolutely not! Your brother has so many expenses ahead of him! That money is for him! Then go home and wait to die. I never knew I was capable of saying something so vicious. The moment I hit send, I broke down sobbing. Everyone around me turned to stare. I couldn't bring myself to care. These past few years, I'd lost my job. My savings. My car. All because of some pathetic hope—a fantasy that I could mend our relationship before he died. That I could make him see I wasn't the inheritance-grubbing disappointment my brother painted me as. That I could make him remember I was his son too. But in the end, none of that seemed to matter to him. He knew I wouldn't actually abandon him. He had nothing to fear. By the time I got off the subway, my eyes were swollen and raw. I unlocked my door—and froze. The apartment was packed with people. "Third Uncle? Aunt? Uncle...? What are you all—" I stared at the crowd of relatives in disbelief. At the center of it all sat Dad, sighing dramatically. He clutched his phone. "I never thought... after raising him all those years... he'd actually tell me to go die." "He abandoned me and ran off ten years ago. Not a single day has passed that I haven't thought about him." "When he came back to take care of me, I thought he'd finally remembered what family meant. But the moment he heard his brother was getting a bigger share of the inheritance, he turned around and told me to die." "How much longer do I even have? He couldn't even keep up the act for that long!" I pulled out my phone. The family group chat—the one I'd muted ages ago—had 99+ unread messages. I scrolled up. The very first one was a screenshot Dad had posted. Our conversation. Go home and wait to die. The words burned. "Merlin Dickerson, your father left this world early—without him, do you think you'd have grown up at all?" "Apologize to your father right now! If we hadn't rushed over, he would've jumped off the building!" "Merlin, you've been gone for ten years. Your brother has spent far more time with your father than you have. You don't fulfill your duties as a son, yet you want a bigger share of the money? How can anyone be this heartless!" Dad let out another long, weary sigh. "It's fine. It's fine. After all these years, I've made my peace with it." "If he doesn't want to acknowledge me as his father, that's his choice. I've done everything I could for him. If my own son won't take care of me—well, I'd rather not be a burden anyway." He rose shakily to his feet and lurched toward the window. Everyone scrambled to hold him back. "Merlin Dickerson! Get on your knees! The Dickerson family has no room for ungrateful wretches like you!" "If you don't kneel and apologize, don't ever call yourself a Dickerson again! Your father is a good man—we won't let you drag his name through the mud!" "After you apologize, take your father back to the hospital and care for him properly. The whole family will be watching!"

Crash! The glass shattered on the floor. I was seething. "Are you all done with this circus?!" Everyone turned to stare at me in shock. My breath came in sharp bursts. I pointed at my uncle. "You—you lent him a hundred thousand for his surgery, didn't you?" My uncle froze. I swung my finger toward my aunt. "And you lent him two hundred thousand." Then I turned to my second aunt. "You gave him the hundred and fifty thousand you'd saved to build your son a house. Am I wrong?!" My father's face went white. "Merlin! Shut your mouth!" "Do you all know he's sitting on ten million dollars? He just refuses to spend a cent of it—because he's saving every last penny for Harry!" "What?!" Every head in the room snapped toward my father. He waved his hands frantically, trying to deny it. I let out a cold laugh. "The reason he never told you? He was planning to dump all these debts on me. But I've already been bled dry for him. You won't see a dime of that money for the next ten years—if ever!" The color drained from every relative's face. I pressed on. "You all felt sorry for him. You thought he was broke, so you scraped together your savings to keep him alive. But he never considered any of you family." "Daryl!" My uncle shot to his feet. "Is what he's saying true?!" "Yeah—when Merlin's mother died in the line of duty, there was compensation. We never asked about it. How much was it really?!" "I... that's..." My father couldn't get a single word out. "If this is how you've treated us, then Merlin did nothing wrong!" "Someone like you deserves to rot at home alone!" One by one, the relatives stormed toward the door. "Let me make this clear—if you can't pay us back, we're going after Harry. Not Merlin. Figure it out yourself!" "You—all of you—!" My father watched helplessly as everyone left. Finally, his desperate gaze landed on me. I turned away without a word. It didn't take long to pack my bags. "I'm going back to Portwell for work. Take care of yourself." "If you leave, what's going to happen to your father?!" "That's your problem." I shut the door behind me. These past few years, I'd lost my car. Lost my savings. But at least I still had her—the woman I'd been with for five years. My fiancée. Over the past three years, I'd burned through everything I had. She'd quietly transferred me half a million dollars to keep me afloat. This time, when I got back, we were finally getting married. When Melanie Butler saw how worn down I looked, she pulled me into a tight embrace. "It's okay. From now on, I'm your family. I'll be the wife you deserve." Even with gold prices at an all-time high, she insisted on doubling the gold jewelry in her dowry. Her parents welcomed me into their home and cooked a feast. It was the kind of thing my own parents had never done for me. Tears slipped down my face. For the first time in three years, I posted something online: Finally found you. After dinner, I noticed my father had called dozens of times. The moment I picked up, he launched into a tirade. "You're out there living it up while I'm suffering in the hospital! Who do you think you are?! Get back here! Your brother's getting married—you're the older one, you should be helping out! Stop only thinking about yourself!" I laughed—a cold, hollow sound. I hung up. Blocked his number. I was done with that family. Completely done. If they refused to treat me like one of their own, then fine—I'd become a stranger for good. But then, while I was picking out a suit for the wedding, Melanie burst into the bridal shop. She snatched the suit right out of my hands. "You have another fiancée back home—why did you hide this from me?!" I froze. "What are you talking about?" She thrust her phone at me. On the screen was a wedding invitation—sent from a number I knew all too well. The groom... Merlin Dickerson? "Mel! I'm not engaged!" The words tumbled out. "That bride is just someone I went to middle school with. I have no idea how my name ended up on this invitation!" "Stop pretending!" Her eyes glistened red. "Your father called me." "What..." I stood rooted to the spot. "I didn't believe it at first either. But the venue, the officiant, the guest list—even the bride! I saw all of it! "Your brother told me you two have been together since middle school. He said the only reason you strung me along was because your father got sick and you needed money!" "Mel..." I reached for her, but she wrenched her hand away. "What am I to you? "The wedding's off. We're done." She walked away. Didn't look back once. I stood alone on the empty street, watching her car shrink into the distance. My jaw clenched as I dialed that familiar number. "Dad. Did you tell her I was engaged?" "Sure did. Since you won't spend money on your own family, don't think you get to keep it all for yourself. The invitation was your brother's—I just swapped in your name. He's not like you. He actually thinks about others." The line went dead. I laughed. A cold, hollow sound. Then I booked a flight home. So my brother was getting married? If I couldn't have my wedding, he sure as hell wasn't having his.