They Called Me Selfish for Asking Him to Feed His Own Son Chapter 03
They never intended to lift a finger for this family.
They wanted a mule. Someone who’d work without complaining, expect nothing in return.
As long as I didn’t ask for money, didn’t say I was tired, didn’t beg for help—I was the perfect daughter-in-law, the perfect wife.
The second I actually broke and asked them to step up? Suddenly I’m dramatic and selfish.
Right then, I feel like a joke.
While I’m standing there, my son runs in from the balcony where he was playing with his LEGOs. He glares at me. “Mommy’s bad. I hate Mommy!”
I look down at his angry little face. My chest caves in.
This child—I nearly died for him.
The morning sickness was so bad I lost fifteen pounds in five months.
The doctors said he wasn’t growing fast enough. I forced myself to eat, threw up, ate again.
At seven months, I had gestational hypertension. My legs swelled like tree trunks. Every step winded me.
During delivery, I hemorrhaged. Almost didn’t make it.
And now this child says I’m bad. Says he hates me.
I crouch down. “Leo, why is Mommy bad?”
He crosses his arms. “My friends and teachers say Daddy is a good person. You’re stopping him from being good, so you’re the bad guy! I hate you! I don’t ever want to see you again!”
Then he runs to Derek and hugs him tight, refusing to look at me.
Derek smirks.
He straightens up, smug. “See? Even Leo knows you’re wrong. You really need to take a look at yourself. Stop obsessing over money. It’s embarrassing.”
Four against one. I don’t argue.
I ask Derek one last time, “You’re sure you won’t put any of your salary toward this family?”
Mom’s insulin is gone.
Dad’s heart meds are almost out.
Our son’s tuition is already late.
My account is empty.
This family needs money—right now.
Derek’s face twists with disgust. “After all this, you’re still trying to get your hands on my money? Fine. Let me make this crystal clear.”
He pulls out his phone, taps a few times, then shoves the screen in my face.
“See this? I linked my paycheck to auto-draft to a charity account. Can’t change it for three years. My money goes straight to them. Don’t even think about it.”
His mom claps. “Yes, Derek! That’s the way to do it. Donate clean, leave nothing behind. That’s a true saint.”
His dad gives a thumbs up. “That’s my son. Not like some people—always chasing a dollar, no vision, never gonna amount to anything.”
Leo cheers. “Daddy’s so cool! Daddy’s the best!”
