Is he my grandpa? But why does he feel like a stranger to me? Was it because he was the one who kicked my mom out?
Looking at the man in bed, she had mixed feelings about the whole issue.
It took her a while before she finally muttered, “Is my mom your daughter?”
“Yes... she is,” nodded Mr. Chapman, “and you should call me Grandpa.”
“But... I don’t feel any sort of connection here,” scoffed Ashlyn.
“How’s your mother? I wanted to ask you when I first saw you.” All Mr. Chapman wanted to know was about Fiona.
“My Dad told me she died in a car accident when I was eight years old,” Ashlyn said with her eyes close before she reopened them again.
“She’s dead? How’s that possible? She’s so young and talented. How could she die? It’s all my fault. I was heartless to drive her out.” Mr. Chapman wept silently. He was so weak on the bed and could only whine raspingly.
“Fiona...”
“Fiona...”
He felt his heart clenched and could hardly breathe.
Tears kept rolling down his cheeks as he wept. He cried like a lonely old man, who was mourning his last pain.
“Are you twenty-two this year?” Mr. Chapman wiped his tears and looked at Ashlyn with his teary eyes.
“Yes, I am.”
“Is your birthday in October?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That’s it. I don’t know how your mom got pregnant. She didn’t even tell us. I was so angry that I drove her out. I never thought that she would be so stubborn and left for good. Well, in the end, she still gave birth to you.” Mr. Chapman sighed before he continued, “We’ve been looking for her for so many years. But there was no news of her. We really don’t get why she married your father.”
Ashlyn’s eyes narrowed slightly, and an extreme thought flashed across her mind, “So... there is a chance that Horace is not my father?”
“I don’t know if he’s your biological father,” said Mr. Chapman, “your Dad didn’t deserve your mom at all.”
Ashlyn felt her heart was beating fast. If Horace is not my father, then who is?
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