I figured that it was all part of his version of tough love. Over time, I worked my way up in the company. When I graduated from high school, my stepdad gave me no choice but to join the company full-time. “Sorry, Sheldon,” he said one evening over dinner.
“But there’s no room for you to go to college or whatever. Now that you have the time and capacity, you need to join the company properly.” “That’s fine with me,” I said, feeling an odd sense of contentment. To me, it felt like my stepdad wanted me there, and that was a big deal. So, I started with the dirty jobs. I cleaned up sites, hauled materials until my muscles were defined, and just did whatever needed to be done. I worked hard, wanting to take pride in the company; it was a family legacy after all. And by my mid-20s, I was foreman. I thought I had proven myself, not just as an employee, but as his son, too. Then everything changed.
David came back. His biological son. David hadn’t been around in years. After my dad’s divorce, he sided with his mom and blamed Dad for everything. “He said some pretty horrible things to Dad,” my mom told me once when I asked why we didn’t see David. “So, that’s it? It’s like how I don’t see my biological father?” I asked. “Pretty much, honey,” she said. “But your father was a cruel man, cruel to the bone.” While David was gone, I stepped in as the son.
I did everything, I put in the work, but when David decided to resurface, all of that seemed to vanish. “I don’t get it,” I said to my mom one night. “David hasn’t spoken to Dad in over a decade. And now he’s back, acting like nothing happened between them?” My mother sighed and cut a piece of banana bread for me. “Your father misses him, honey,” she replied quietly. “He’s just trying to make things right.” I sighed. I could understand that, but it still didn’t sit well with me. A few days later, I was called into my dad’s office. He didn’t even look up from his desk. He just cleared his throat. “We need to let you go, Sheldon,” he said. “What?” I blinked, trying to process. “You’re firing me? Really, Dad?” He finally glanced up but refused to make eye contact with me. “David’s coming on board, and, well, we don’t have room for both of you in management.
He’s got the degree, you know? Construction management?” “So?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm. “I’ve been here for over a decade. I’ve earned this.” “It’s time I help David get on his feet,” he muttered. “He’s my son, after all. And I lost so many years with him.” I sat there for a second, stunned. “I thought I was your son, too.” “You are, but you’re not blood,” he said. Just like that, it was over. No severance, no handshake, not even a thank you for my years of hard work. I felt the anger building, but I kept my cool. “All right,” I said, standing up. “Cool. Good luck.” I walked out not knowing what would happen next. “Just move in with me,” my girlfriend, Bea, said when I told her what had happened. “You don’t need to see him every day after this. Take some time away.” I listened, and within a few hours, I was out of our home and into her apartment. Within a week, I landed a new job at a rival construction company.
I’d made some solid connections over the years, and they jumped at the chance to hire me. “It’s for a project manager role, Sheldon,” the owner said. “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but I’ve followed the projects that you’ve overseen. You’re ready for this.” I accepted without hesitation. This new role meant more pay, and best of all? More respect. “You’re going to love it here,” my new boss said when he took me around, showing me my new office. “We take care of our people, Sheldon. None of that cutthroat stuff that I’ve heard your father does. And don’t worry, we cover dental, medical, and everything else.” I smiled. I could already tell that this was going to be an entirely different experience from what I was used to. It didn’t take me long to settle into my new job, and I loved every second of it. I had projects that ranged from movie theater construction, to malls, to even theme parks. It was only going to get better from there. “I miss you at home, darling,” my mother said when we met at a coffee shop for breakfast one weekend. “I know, Mom,” I said. “I miss you too. But you understand why I had to move, right?” “Of course I do, Sheldon,” she said gently. “And it was time to spread your wings, too. But if I’m being honest with you, there seems to be something big going on with Dad’s company.
He’s been very stressed. He and David are not really on speaking terms now. They’re just polite to each other.” “Trouble in paradise?” I asked sarcastically. “I think so,” my mother said, buttering a slice of toast. It wasn’t long before whispers started to flood our industry, talk of my dad’s company going under seemed to be the biggest news. Apparently, things really weren’t going well since David had taken over. My stepbrother had been losing clients, mismanaging projects, and making mistake after mistake. Some of the same clients I had built relationships with left my dad’s company and signed with me instead. Then, one day, I was sitting in my office, flipping through a stack of resumes when I came across David’s. “No way,” I muttered, staring at the paper. It was surreal. The same David who replaced me at my dad’s company was now applying for a job at my new one. I couldn’t resist. I called him in for an interview. When David walked in, he looked worn, like life had knocked him around. He didn’t even recognize me at first, but when he did, the color drained from his face. “Have a seat,” I said. He sat down, clearly uncomfortable. The confidence he once had was gone. “So,” I began, flipping through his resume. “Why are you looking for a job here?” He gulped. “I need something new. Things didn’t work out at my dad’s company.” “What happened?” I asked. “Just… I made some mistakes. I lost us some clients.” “I see,” I replied, leaning back in my chair. “You do realize that this is the same industry, right? We’re not going to make it easy for you.” David nodded. “I’m ready to work,” he said. “We’ll let you know,” I said. As he left, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of satisfaction and pity. Karma had done her job. Still, it felt good to know that I’d landed on my feet while David struggled. A few weeks later, my phone rang. It was my dad. “Sheldon, come back,” he said simply. “The company is failing. David walked out after he messed up again. We’re in trouble. I need you to come back. Help me out, maybe take over.” I let the silence hang in the air for a moment. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I said quietly. “But I’ve moved on. I’m happy where I am.” He sighed heavily. “I understand, son. I’m… I’m proud of you, you know?” “Thanks. I wish you the best,” I said. “Come over for dinner soon?” he asked hopefully. “Yeah, maybe,” I said. When I hung up, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Years of trying to prove myself to him were over. What would you have done?