THE CHILD I REFUSE TO LOVE Episode 5(final)

David survived, but survival is not the same as restoration.

After weeks in the hospital, he returned home thinner, quieter, and burdened with a record that would follow him for years. The confidence he once carried like a crown had faded. The friends who encouraged his recklessness disappeared. The phone that never stopped ringing became silent.

Our house changed.

The laughter I once forced was gone. In its place was a heavy silence filled with regret.

Anita, now fully trained as a nurse, became the strength of the family. She secured a job at a reputable hospital and began contributing to household expenses without being asked. She never reminded me of the past. She never complained about the years of unfair treatment.

Her kindness was steady. Gentle. Consistent.

One evening, as I watched her prepare dinner while David sat quietly in the living room, I felt the full weight of my mistakes.

I had wanted Anita to suffer for her mother’s words.
I had wanted her to feel small the way I once felt.
Instead, I had nearly destroyed my own son.

David’s entitlement, his lack of discipline, his arrogance I had nurtured them with blind love. Every time I defended him when he was wrong, I planted seeds of irresponsibility. Every time I excused his behavior, I taught him that consequences did not apply to him.

And Anita?

Every harsh word I spoke to her became fuel for her determination. Every denial strengthened her independence. Every rejection pushed her closer to self-reliance.

The child I tried to break became the one who held us together.

One afternoon, I called Anita into my room.

She stood at the door respectfully. “Yes, Aunty?”

My voice trembled. “Come and sit.”

She hesitated, then sat beside me.

Tears I had held back for years finally fell freely.

“I wronged you,” I said. “I punished you for something you never did. I carried anger for your mother in my heart, and I poured it on you. I failed you.”

She was quiet for a moment.

Then she took my hands into hers hands that had once pointed at her in anger.

“Aunty,” she said softly, “pain can make people do things they don’t understand. But we can choose to heal.”

Her forgiveness did not erase my guilt, but it gave me a chance to breathe again.

David is still trying to rebuild his life. It has not been easy. Opportunities do not come as quickly as they once did. Sometimes I catch him staring at Anita with a mixture of shame and gratitude.

As for me, I live with the consequences of my choices. Financially strained. Emotionally humbled. Socially quieter.

I once believed favoritism was love.

Now I know better.

Love without fairness destroys. Bitterness without forgiveness consumes. And revenge, even when silent, always returns to its sender.

This is my confession.

I tried to make an innocent child pay for her mother’s mistakes.

In the end, I paid the price for my own.