Finding out a little bit 1.1*

I embraced him more firmly, delicately tracing the tips of my nails along his scalp. It took some time, but he gradually found his composure, his tears diminishing until he finally released his grip. I cupped his face in my hands, gazing into his tear-streaked, reddened eyes.

"Whenever you feel ready to share, I will be here for you. And I will remain here even if you decide not to," I assured him. Oliver rested his head on my shoulder, choosing to remain silent.

"My father was not always like this; he transformed the day my mother passed away," he began, his voice trembling.

"My mother was one of the most renowned models in the world, reigning at the pinnacle of the fashion industry. It was her lifelong dream, and her talent garnered her significant recognition. She joined one of the top agencies and met my father during her third year of her contract; he was a friend of her boss. I recall her recounting how he confessed to her that he had fallen in love with her at first sight." Oliver let out a soft laugh.

"She was skeptical about his swift feelings and made him earn her love. After a period of courtship, he proposed, asking her to be his for eternity... and she accepted. It wasn't long before my mother expressed her desire to have a child and provide my father with an heir to his family business. They tried repeatedly, but she struggled to conceive. Then one day, she fell gravely ill."

-

"My father hurried my mother to the hospital, filled with hope for her recovery. However, they soon discovered that she was among the 2% of women with a significantly low probability of conceiving. Furthermore, attempting to conceive posed a life-threatening risk to her health. My father prioritized my mother's well-being and believed that adoption would be a more suitable option than pursuing biological parenthood. Despite the risks outlined to her, she remained resolute in her desire to try for a child, fully aware of my father's longing for a biological connection." As Oliver's eyes welled with tears once again, he clutched my hand tightly.

"The doctor indicated that he could assist with the process, presenting a 50/50 chance of success. He cautioned, however, that after having one child, they should refrain from attempting to conceive again, as it could lead to severe complications for my mother."

"My father inquired if she was truly committed to this path, to which she affirmed her decision. The doctor warned her of the challenges ahead, which ultimately proved to be more arduous than anticipated. Shortly thereafter, she became pregnant with me, and my father dedicated himself to ensuring her comfort and health. He arranged for her to visit the hospital four times a week for monitoring."

"Midway through her pregnancy, she fell ill. My mother's family feared the worst, yet my father remained steadfastly by her side. After she collapsed and was rushed to the hospital, the doctor placed her in a deep sleep to allow her body to conserve energy, as it was working tirelessly to sustain my health in her womb. Following a four-month hospitalization, my mother successfully gave birth to me, and I emerged as a healthy baby boy. Fortunately, my mother also recovered well, and at that moment, everything seemed perfect."

-

"My family once epitomized happiness. My father, a compassionate and devoted man, ensured that my mother and I were well cared for. When I was two years old, my mother resumed her career, maintaining the vibrant spirit that had made her a successful model. My parents indulged me with everything I desired, and in return, I dedicated myself to my studies, achieving excellent grades and fulfilling their expectations to the best of my abilities."

"However, our joy was shattered when I turned eight. My mother fell ill during a rehearsal for a fashion show and was once again hospitalized, slipping into a deep unconscious state. My father arranged for my maternal relatives to take me away, believing it was best for me not to witness my mother in such a condition. Despite my protests and desperate attempts to remain by her side, I was taken to another country. Tears streamed down my face as I was forced to leave."

"After two months, I returned, filled with hope and anticipation. I envisioned running into my mother's arms, enveloped in her kisses as I made my way to the hospital with my uncle. However, upon my arrival, I was met with the devastating sight of my mother lifeless in my father's embrace, who refused to let her go."

"My father was no longer the joyful man I had known. I reached out to comfort him, hoping to share in our mutual grief over the loss of the woman we both cherished. Instead, he pushed me away, shouting and blaming me for her death.

-

"I subsequently learned of her passing, which occurred as her body ultimately succumbed to the illness she had developed during her pregnancy, despite the unfavorable circumstances surrounding her condition. This illness was the reason for her collapse; it sought to harm me while I was still within her, and her body fought valiantly to shield me from its effects."

"The illness should have been transmitted to me through her blood at birth, potentially leading to my demise by the age of five. However, she was aware that I had escaped the disease and thrived within her until I reached the age of six, robust and healthy. In secret, she underwent medical treatments to eliminate the illness, but inadvertently missed one crucial appointment..."

"This oversight revealed to her that she had only a few weeks left to live. She chose not to inform my father, instead pretending that everything was well, so that we could cherish joyful memories of her." I shook my head in disbelief as he paused to gather his thoughts.

"She kept this burden to herself until her final moments. All she left for him was a letter detailing the illness, my birth, and the clandestine efforts she had made. Overcome with emotion, I fled the hospital. My father behaved as though he were the sole sufferer, oblivious to my own grief over losing my mother—the very person who had brought me into existence. He had the audacity to act as if he were the only one who loved and needed her," his voice strained with anger and sorrow.

"Following that day, my father severed all ties with my mother's family: I didn't even get to say goodbye. After that day, his hatred for me became evident in everything, as he could not bear to look at me; I was the spitting image of my mother, albeit in male form. Consequently, he began to physically abuse me, blaming me for my existence and for taking away the joy in his life. Since that moment, I have lived with the burden of being labeled as the cause of a renowned model's tragic end."

"Each day, the way he gazes at me serves as a painful reminder of her death and the life I have endured since that day. Whenever I catch my reflection in the mirror, I am haunted by her visage and the memories it evokes." Tears streamed down my face as he concluded his story.

-

I could never have anticipated that the narrative surrounding his mother's death was far more profound and troubling than what had been publicly disclosed.

This was certainly not his fault!

"I deeply regret that you had to endure such hardship. No one should have experienced what you have. Your father remains in denial, unable to have recognized that there had been issues affecting his wife. He directs his blame towards you, when in reality, neither of you is to blame. As difficult as it may be to accept, your mother chose to suffer in silence, and it was unfortunate that she missed an appointment. She wished to shield you and your father from her pain, wanting to cherish her final moments with you both as a joyful family..." Oliver wiped his tears, adjusted his hat, and took a deep breath.

"That may be true... However, he will never perceive it that way. He harbors deep resentment towards me, and that will not change as long as I resemble the love of his life." After we both stood up, I embraced Oliver once more.

I expressed my gratitude for his willingness to share, despite the difficult nature of the topic.

He glanced at the time on his phone before returning my hug, saying, "No, thank you for being there for me. Confiding in you has allowed me to confront past pain. You have truly helped me through it. Thank you, Shorty."

A gentle kiss was placed on my forehead, leaving me momentarily stunned in his embrace. By the time I regained my composure, he had already dashed across the street and down the road.

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