He Gave Me Fake Pearls While His Bastard Wore My Emeralds

The first thing I did when I got home for winter break was check the safe deposit box containing my future inheritance.

I stared into the empty space, my breath catching in my throat.

My personal treasurygone. Grandma Helens antique diamond and sapphire cuff, the emerald earrings, the gold heirloom watch, all totaling over 0-050,000vanished.

I was about to call my mom when a university acquaintance, Tatum Wells, posted a picture to her social media.

[So grateful to my amazing parents for my new engagement cuff! Mom says it's my first piece of my wedding jewels. Im being spoiled! ]

The photo showed two identical bracelets on her wrist. They were sickeningly familiar.

I immediately messaged her: Where did you get that cuff?

She shot back a reply: Dad snagged it for me at an auction. Why, jealous?

I quickly took a screenshot for evidence and called my father.

Dad, did you happen to move the jewelry Grandma gave me?

His voice hesitated for a fraction of a second before he spoke, sounding completely casual.

No, sweetie, those things are safe and sound in your box, arent they?

I said, Good, with a laugh, then hung up and immediately drove to the location Tatum had tagged.

The car dropped me outside a high-end photography studio.

I walked quickly inside and spotted Tatum Wells right away.

She was facing away from me, her arm linked affectionately with a woman who was probably in her mid-forties, with dyed brown, wavy hair.

Id only caught a fleeting glimpse of that face onceon my dads phone screen. He had quickly pressed the power button, mumbling something about it being a photo of an excellent employee he needed to review for the company.

I walked up and spoke her name clearly: Tatum Wells.

The woman and Tatum turned simultaneously.

The womans smile froze the instant she saw me, as if shed been blindsided. But she quickly composed herself, greeting me with a polite, measured warmth.

You must be Tatums college friend. Shes mentioned you.

Tatum, however, just stared, the expression on her face pure disbelief.

Kinsley? What are you doing here?

Im here to take a family portrait with my parents. What are you doing here?

A sharp ache pierced my chest.

I knew exactly what day it was. It was my parents' twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.

Before Dad left this morning, he said hed rush through his work at the office so he could come home early. Mom was humming in the kitchen, already looking forward to their celebration.

He hadnt come home.

He was here.

Tatum seemed to realize the connection, too, and covered her mouth in an exaggerated expression of shock.

Oh my God! You didnt check my post and follow me here, did you? Are you stalking me?

Her tone and expression were theatrical, laced with a deliberate, mocking superiority.

The woman, Bethany Wells, interjected smoothly: Tatum, dont talk like that. Perhaps your friend was just passing by. I trust that others are as well-mannered as you are, honey.

The comment was a subtle jab, not only calling me a stalker but also taking a swipe at my mothers parenting.

I smiled, cutting straight to the point.

Tatum Wells, would you mind asking your dad to come out? Id like to meet him.

For four years of college, Tatum had subtly competed with me on everythinggrades, fashion, and who received the most expensive gifts. I had always dismissed it as harmless, youthful rivalry, never quite understanding the source of her faint but persistent malice.

Now I knew.

Tatum paused, instantly defensive. Why do you want to meet my dad?

Bethany tugged Tatums arm, giving me a perfectly composed, yet distant, smile.

Tatums father left right after we finished our family portrait. He isnt here anymore.

If youd like to meet him, Kinsley, perhaps another time.

My eyes dropped to the womans neck.

She was wearing a vintage emerald pendant necklace. The stone was clear and deep, like water.

It was one of my favorite heirlooms, passed down through my mothers family for generations.

Bethany noticed my gaze. Her fingers delicately touched the pendant, and her lips curved into an unnervingly perfect smile.

This necklace looks decent on me, dont you think? Oh, Tatums dad is just so sweet. He insisted it was the perfect match for me and had to have me wear it.

Tatum giggled. Just take the compliment, Mom. Dad is crazy about you.

I looked at the familiar necklace on her neck and offered a small smile of my own.

Ms. Wells, that necklace is truly beautiful.

Funny thing is, I have an identical one. Except mine seems to have gone missing recently.

Bethanys color drained slightly. Before she could speak, Tatum erupted.

There are millions of necklaces in the world! Its totally normal for styles to be identical!

She paused, her eyes sweeping over the simple pearl necklace I was wearing.

Speaking of necklaces, isnt that cheap internet trash? Those pearls look fake. Youre actually wearing something so low-quality?

A buzzing sound filled my ears. Blood rushed to my head.

My father, Robert Sullivan, had personally put this pearl necklace around my neck last month for my birthday.

Hed claimed hed specially sourced it for me during an international business trip.

When I first touched the cold, slightly plastic-feeling beads, I only assumed he was clueless and had been scammed abroad.

I was afraid of making him feel guilty, afraid of his disappointment, so I wore it every single day, even when the inferior material irritated the skin on my neck.

What? Nothing to say? Embarrassed that I called you out for wearing fakes?

Bethany gently scolded her daughter.

Tatum, that is no way to speak to your friend. Its rude.

Tatum pouted, but her eyes were bright with a triumphant smugness.

I didnt argue. I simply reached into my pocket and turned off the recording app on my phone.

Then, after one last look at Tatums eyeswhich, in the harsh studio light, bore a sickening resemblance to my fathersI turned and walked away.

Tatum Wells seemed to have forgotten one crucial thing.

The luxurious life she enjoyed, the expensive jewelry her mother wore, the doting paternal affection she flaunted

The source of all of it.

They seemed to think that stealing things and wearing them made them their own.

That was fine.

If they loved my inheritance that much,

I certainly didnt mind making sure they returned every single item they took from my home, with interest.

When I got home, my mother, Charlotte, was in the kitchen, simmering a pot of slow-cooked broth.

My father grew up poor. He was undernourished and developed a chronic, severe stomach condition.

My mother loved him so much she voluntarily stepped down from her corporate position to focus on the home. A woman who had been a sharp, commanding presence at the negotiation table willingly confined herself to the kitchen.

She cooked, baked, studied medicinal recipes

She managed to nurse his gaunt frame back to health and cured his stomach issues by 80 percent.

For as long as I could remember, my parents seemed deeply in love.

Today was their twenty-fifth anniversary.

And I had just discovered my father was having an affair.

Watching her back in the kitchen, my fury morphed into a deep, agonizing sorrow.

Tears welled up without warning and wouldn't stop.

My mother was forty-five this year.

But years of focusing on her family and neglecting self-care made her look five years older than her age. Especially her hands.

Her knuckles were slightly swollen from constant work, her palms covered in thin calluses, and the back of her hands bore several old scars.

Every single one was for him.

Mom heard the noise and poked her head out of the kitchen.

Seeing my tear-streaked face, she visibly panicked. She quickly wiped her wet hands on her apron and rushed over, her warm fingers cupping my face.

Kin, whats wrong? Why are you crying? Who hurt you?

Her brow furrowed, her voice frantic. Dont be scared, Mom is here. Ill call your father right now, Ill tell him to

Dont call him!

I grabbed her wrist, shaking my head forcefully.

She froze, looking at me anxiously, her eyes reflecting my miserable, desperate face.

My eyelashes trembled violently. I forced the words out from my throat.

Mom, Dad he has someone else.

Her name is Bethany Wells, and shes his childhood sweetheart. They grew up in the same small town.

Mechanically, I pulled the documents Id researched on the way home out of my bag, presenting them to her page by page.

They never broke contact. Dad was always secretly sending her money, even after he went to college.

Ten days after you married Dad, he faked a business trip. That night, they were together.

When you were six weeks pregnant, Dad bought a luxury villa downtown. It was deeded in her name.

During your severe morning sickness, when you couldnt keep anything down, Dad was at her place, making her soup and cooking her balanced, nutritious meals.

While you were in the hospital, fighting for your life to give birth to me, he was out walking with her, massaging her back.

You had a C-section scar, lying helpless in the recovery room, and he was taking her to prenatal checkups.

Mom, can you believe this? She was pregnant with his daughter at the same time you were pregnant with me. His illegitimate daughter is only four months younger than I am.

I felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up, but tears just streamed down my face.

My mother stood utterly still, trembling.

She stared intently at the words and pictures, whispering over and over:

How how is that possible? Your father and I have been married for twenty-five years. Youre grown up, he couldnt possibly

I reached up and gently wiped her tears, continuing the assault.

Mom, do you remember the inheritance Grandma Helen left for me, the 0-050,000 worth of jewelry?

Mom nodded, her red-rimmed eyes reflecting the memory.

Of course, I remember. Your grandmother gave it to you on your eighteenth birthday.

She loved you the most; you were her only granddaughter. She was upset with me for marrying your father against her wishes and didn't speak to me for three years. She only softened when I was pregnant with you.

You are my only daughter, and Ive been saving my own jewelry to add to your dowry for years.

I closed my eyes, numbly pulling out the audio recording and the screenshots.

Well, what if I told you that Dad secretly stole my 0-050,000 inheritance and gave it all to his illegitimate daughter?

Mom, today is your twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. He lied that he was at the office, but he was actually taking a family portrait with them.

Grandmas gold cuff, the emeralds, the diamondsthey are all on their bodies.

My nose was stinging. I spoke each word clearly: Dad stole my 0-050,000 inheritance and gave it all to his bastard daughter!

What?

Mom was incredulous, her pale face coloring with fury.

He dared to touch the inheritance your grandmother left you?!

Hearing that, I couldn't hold back anymore. I wrapped my arms around my mother and burst into a loud, wrenching cry.

Mom, Dad never loved us! He loved your familys money, he loved Grandpa Georges support! We meant nothing to him!

My eyes were hot and swollen, heavy with a mixture of betrayal and hatred.

The last twenty years had been a perfect performance.

The more I thought about it, the more the raw hurt twisted into pure hatred.

I hated him for deceiving my mother, and I hated him for giving me years of his fake, superficial fatherly love, treating me like a charity case.

My chest ached with the pain of it.

I hurt for myself, but I hurt infinitely more for my mother.

I was her flesh and blood; I knew how deeply she felt everything. She was the one who was truly devastated.

Just as I was about to speak, my phone rang. It was my boyfriend, Grant Miller.

I sniffed, answering the call. Hello?

Grants voice was cold and detached, devoid of any concern.

Kinsley, Ill be brief. We should break up.

I froze, tears still clinging to my lashes. What did you say?

Im getting engaged next Saturday, he stated flatly. Lets cut all contact after this.

Why? I gripped the phone, my knuckles white. Grant, you owe me an explanation!

Silence stretched for two seconds. Then he said, Because the other fiances family is offering a much more generous dowry. It will be a huge boost to my career.

Buzz. My mind went blank. My blood seemed to turn instantly cold.

Tatum Wells? My voice was trembling. Are you getting engaged to her?

Grant blurted out reflexively, How did you know?!

It was confirmed.

I pulled my lips back in a short, sharp, cold laugh.

Grant Miller, you will regret this.

I hung up without another word, throwing the phone onto the sofa.

Almost simultaneously, my mothers phone screen lit up on the table.

It was a text from Dad.

[Honey, I just got a last-minute call. A distant relative's kid is getting engaged next Saturday, and I have to attend to represent the family. Don't wait up for me for dinner.]

I clicked on Tatum Wellss social media.

Her newest post was glaringly clear:

[Big day next Saturday! T-minus seven days until engagement! Thank you, Dad, for setting all of this up for me! ]

I placed the two messages side by side in front of my mother.

The air went silent for several seconds.

My mothers swollen eyes stared at the screens. Her chest rose and fell sharply a few times.

She raised a hand and fiercely wiped away the tear stains on her face.

When she looked up, the warmth in her eyes was gone. They were replaced by a clear, icy resolve.

She looked at me, and I looked at her.

Neither of us spoke, but in the others eyes, we saw the exact same, devastating determination.

I smiled softly. Mom, next Saturday's engagement party. Lets call Grandpa George and Grandma Helen. Were all going.

I couldn't wait to see the expression on my fathers face when he saw us there.

The night before the engagement party, the lights in our house were blazing.

Dad hadnt come home, claiming he was busy.

Mom and I were busy, too.

Busy compiling evidence of his infidelity, busy drafting the divorce papers, preparing to expose him at the engagement party the next day.

During our preparation, Dad called to sound us out.

Kin, are you and your mom asleep yet?

What are you two planning to do tomorrow?

Oh, I replied, flipping through a stack of documents, keeping my tone deliberately vague. Were just going to visit Grandpa and Grandma George tomorrow.

Dad visibly relaxed on the other end. He chuckled. Okay, honey. Dad has to go. Good night.

The next day, Mom and I quietly slipped into the wedding reception and found seats in the back.

Grandpa George and Grandma Helen were waiting in the car; we didn't want to risk over-exciting them just yet.

When most of the guests had arrived, Tatum Wells walked in, arm linked with Grant Miller.

My dad and Bethany Wells followed behind them.

They were all meticulously dressed in celebratory, expensive attire.

The MC stepped onto the stage to start the event. Congratulations to the happy couple! May you live happily ever after!

Tatum and Grant were invited onto the stage.

After exchanging rings, they embraced and kissed.

A wave of applause erupted from the crowd.

My stomach turned. It was sickening.

The MC handed the microphone to Tatum. A few words from the bride?

Tatum batted her eyes sweetly. First, I want to thank my parents.

She looked out at the crowd and smiled. My dad spoils me. Every year for my birthday, no matter how busy he is, he cooks all my favorite dishes.

I leaned toward my mom. Mom, did Dad ever cook you one meal?

Moms face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Tatum continued: When I turned eighteen, Dad took a whole month off work to take me traveling around Europe!

I asked again. Mom, what did Dad say he was doing then?

Moms voice was bitter. He said the company had an urgent issue, and he had to take a long, emergency business trip.

I gave a grim smile. Other than the honeymoon did he ever take you traveling after that?

Mom was silent for a long time, then shook her head. No. He always said he was too busy.

My heart turned to ice. I gripped her hand, which was cold as marble.

The MC suddenly announced, And now, please welcome the brides father to the stage!

My father straightened his tuxedo and strode onto the platform.

He took the microphone, his back perfectly straight, his demeanor radiating pride.

Mr. Sullivan, the MC prompted, how did you manage to raise such a wonderful, grateful daughter?

Dad cleared his throat and swelled with paternal pride. Raising a child has no secret. Just one rule

He paused, looking lovingly at Tatum. You get what you give! Ive been a truly, genuinely good father to my daughter, and thats why she is so thoughtful and devoted.

He then turned to Grant, his voice becoming heavier. Son-in-law, I only have one demand for you. You have to be like meput your whole heart into treating her well!

As he spoke, he became emotional; his eyes even welled up with tears.

Listening to his speech, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me.

Mom sighed. Twenty-five years, and I never knew he was such a good actor.

A roar of applause filled the room. Guests were cheering.

Well said! What a great father!

In the midst of the congratulatory noise, I abruptly pulled my mother to her feet.

Excuse me, sir, I called out, my voice clear and loud, overriding the applause. You claim you put your whole heart into being a father. Does your so-called genuine devotion include stealing your biological daughters 0-050,000 inheritance and giving it to your illegitimate daughter as a dowry?