I Let My Son Live With My Abusive CousinChapter 1
On the day my wife gave birth, I witnessed a shocking act of deception. My cousin, driven by a twisted plan, secretly switched our newborn babies at the hospital. I pretended ignorance, taking his child home and raising him as my own.
Eighteen years later, the fruits of my care and guidance were evident. My cousin's son, now a young man, was accepted into prestigious Newman University. Meanwhile, my biological son, left in my cousin's care, suffered years of neglect and abuse, leaving him permanently disabled.
At the celebratory party, my cousin approached me with a sinister grin. He brandished a paternity test and declared, "The hospital made a mistake. Our babies were switched. It's time to set things right."
I smiled faintly and replied, "Alright."
***
The sun had barely set when I heard the familiar, sharp knock on the door. It wasn't the kind of polite knock you'd expect from a visitor but a heavy, entitled rap that carried an air of dominance.
"Jimmy, my father brought a lot of wild honey from the countryside. I brought some over for you and Nathan to enjoy," came my cousin's loud, enthusiastic voice from behind the door.
I sighed quietly, already bracing myself. Ever since I had brought his son, Nathan, home to raise, these visits had become routine. My cousin loved inventing excuses to drop by—whether to exchange parenting tips or to let the two boys play together. He claimed it was for the kids' benefit, but I knew better.
I opened the door to see him standing there, as expected, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that seemed out of place in our modest neighborhood. In his hand were a few jars of wild honey, neatly sealed and tied with rustic strings.
Behind him stood a pale, scrawny boy with haunted eyes, bruises dotting his face and arms. My son, Rowan. He had been given that name by my cousin and every time I looked at him, I saw the weight of years of torment reflected in his gaze.
"Come in," I said simply, stepping aside.
My cousin strode in like he owned the place. Without a glance at me, he set the jars of honey on the kitchen counter before heading straight for Nathan, who was sitting cross-legged on the living room and playing with some action figures.
"Nathan, tomorrow's your birthday! What do you want for a gift? I will buy it for you," he said, crouching and ruffling the boy's hair