My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 751

Chapter 751

“I think your worth isn’t determined by whether you read easily. It can be mana-*

Giovanni pushed himself off the examination table. His boots hit the floor with a heavy thud, “You don’t get it.”

“I understand this is upsetting.”

“Nah,” his voice hardened. He jabbed a finger into his own chest. “You don’t know a damn thing. My whole fuckin’ life, people looked at me and saw one thing.” His jaw clenched. “Stupido. Idiot. Worthless.”

The doctor’s face softened, “I’m sorry that happened.”

Giovanni dragged a hand over his face, “First it was the teachers. Then my parents. Then every bastard in the neighborhood,” his voice turned rough, “I crossed an ocean, Doc,” he gave a hollow laugh, “Thought maybe it’d be different here,” he looked away, “Turns out people laugh in every language.”

His breathing grew heavier. His chest rose and fell harder with every breath.

“You know what they do?” his laugh was short and ugly, “They shove a piece of paper in my face,” he looked away for a second, “Then they just stand there…” His jaw tightened. “…waiting for me to fuck it up.

The doctor didn’t move, “I’m sorry you’ve had to live with that.”

Giovanni’s eyes snapped back to him, “Don’t. Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not judging you, Giovanni.”

“You’re looking at me like I’m broken.”

“I’m not.”

Giovanni stepped closer to the desk, “Then stop talking and fix it.”

The doctor sighed, “There isn’t a medication for dyslexia.”

Giovanni frowned, “Bullshit.”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“What about surgery?”

“No.”

“Some machine? Some treatment?”

“No.”

“A doctor smarter than you?”

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“There are specialists who can teach you ways to make reading easier.”

Giovanni gave a sharp shake of his head, “I don’t want easier,” he planted both hands on the desk and leaned in, “I don’t want tricks. I don’t want shortcuts. I want this shit outta my head.”

The doctor held his stare for several long seconds before speaking quietly, “Giovanni, it can’t be taken

out.”

Giovanni let out a slow breath through his nose, “So that’s it? You’re telling me this is it?”

“Yes.”

“This is how I stay?”

“Yes.”

The word hit him harder than a fist. It didn’t bruise his face. It bruised something much deeper. He

lowered his eyes to the floor.

No cure.

His mind refused to accept it.

No cure.

He slowly shook his head, “Nah… you’re wrong.”

The doctor didn’t answer.

Giovanni looked back up, “There’s gotta be somethin’.”

“There isn’t.”

“What about some experimental treatment.”

“No.”

“Some doctor somewhere.”

“Giovanni…”

“There’s always somebody better.”

“Not for this.”

Giovanni’s jaw clenched so tightly a muscle jumped beneath his skin.. Then both of his palms crashed onto the doctor’s desk, pens rolled, and a coffee mug tipped over. A framed family photograph fell onto its face with a loud crack.

“So what?” he barked, “Guys like me just stay like this?”

The doctor never raised his voice, “People with dyslexia learn different ways to read. Many build

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successful lives.”

Giovanni gave a cold, disbelieving laugh, “Yeah? You know what kind of life this bought me? School threw me away. My old man beat the shit outta me for it. Every asshole I ever met thought I was too stupid to breathe. So don’t sit there tellin’ me people like me do just fine.”

The doctor met his stare without looking away, “I’ve treated people with dyslexia who became lawyers, engineers, business owners, even teachers themselves.”

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