All We Need Is Nothing From You

“Son, come to your senses before it’s too late! That boy looks nothing like you! Your Emily tricked you into raising her ex’s child—I know it!”
“Mum, enough! Danny’s my son… Why must you stir trouble? I’m going home.”

Margaret Thompson had raised her son Oliver alone. Their bond had always been strong: he never disobeyed, excelled in school, and became an engineer as she’d wished. Now it was time to secure his future. She’d chosen Lucy, her friend Antonia’s daughter, as his bride.

Though Oliver and Lucy dated at Margaret’s insistence, their romance fizzled within months. Then Oliver met Emily. Their whirlwind courtship led to marriage within three months, much to Margaret’s disdain. Six months later, Emily was pregnant. When little Daniel arrived, Margaret’s hostility sharpened. For years, she needled Oliver during visits:

“Look at you—rumpled, unkempt! That wife of yours…”
“Mum, it’s just a creased shirt!”
“Sit. Eat. Bet she feeds you frozen rubbish. Lucy’s taking pastry classes now—such a gem…”

Oliver defended Emily, dismissing his mother’s barbs. But Margaret’s campaign wore on. One evening, she struck deeper:

“Your Emily’s avoiding me. Too busy chasing that ex of hers—Charlie, wasn’t it? That boy’s his spitting image!”

They argued bitterly. Oliver returned home tense.

“Dad!” Danny bounded toward him. “Mum and I saw Uncle Charlie at the park! He bought me sweets!”

A seed of doubt sprouted. That night, Oliver confronted Emily:
“Why were you with Charlie? Is Danny even mine?”
“Oliver! How could you?”

Their first real fight sparked endless quarrels. Eventually, Emily packed their things and returned to her parents in Manchester.

After the divorce, Oliver paid child support, convinced Danny wasn’t his. Margaret, triumphant, revived her matchmaking. Oliver married Lucy—who soon revealed her true self. She berated him over their modest Ford Focus and last-year’s coat while splurging on spa holidays.

“Vicky’s husband bought her a Mercedes! What sort of man are you?”

Fifteen years passed. Oliver worked two jobs as Lucy indulged. When Margaret suffered a stroke, Lucy refused care: “Send her to a nursing home. We’ve a car loan!”

A month later, Margaret died. Returning unannounced, Oliver found Lucy with their neighbor. He left silently, moving into his mother’s vacant flat.

At forty-five, he sat among Margaret’s things, adrift. No family, no friends—even the car was Lucy’s. Memories of Emily and Danny surfaced. Had he been wrong?

“Danny must be nineteen now…” he murmured to empty walls.

The next morning, he boarded a train to Manchester. Finding Emily’s old address, he waited. A young man approached—Oliver’s mirror image.

“Daniel… Son—”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry… You look just like me! Where’s your mum?”
“She died ten years ago. Car accident.”
“Let me help! I’ve money—”
“Gran and I need nothing.”

The door slammed. Oliver returned repeatedly, pleading, but Daniel refused. Rain mixed with tears as he lingered on the step, whispering apologies to the wind.

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All We Need Is Nothing From You