I don’t want grandkids from some country girl!”
The wealthy man disowned his son after learning that his fiancée from a rural village was expecting triplets! And three years later, he came to mock him—only to be STUNNED by what he saw…
Robert Whitman paced back and forth in the large living room, his shiny shoes tapping aggressively against the polished marble floor. Now and then, he clutched his head in frustration.
Standing quietly by the wall was his son, Jason. The young man had just broken the news to his father that he wanted to marry Emily, the woman he loved. He stood firm, refusing to give in to his father’s pleading.
“Let her go—forget her. She’s from the countryside. We’ll find you a proper bride, a girl from our own circle,” Robert insisted, his voice a low growl.
“Why get married now?” he continued. “Wait until you’re 30! You have your whole life ahead of you. You just finished college—you should be focusing on your career.”
“Dad,” Jason said in a calm but determined voice, “Emily is pregnant.
Robert stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his son. Jason still looked every bit the young college grad: lanky build, straw-blond hair, and the faint beginnings of a mustache. But there was no doubt in his eyes—he was resolute.
“So what? Give her some money, let her figure it out. Honestly, you shouldn’t even bother with that,” Robert scoffed. “If she wants to keep the baby, let her deal with it. Don’t ruin your future.”
Jason shook his head. “Dad, she’s having triplets—three babies. How can she handle that alone, especially way out in the countryside?”
Robert let out a bellowing laugh that echoed off the high ceilings. “That’s not my problem, or yours! I don’t want grandkids from some farm girl. You have no idea how tough life is going to be. Look at you—you’re young, smart, handsome. You have your whole life ahead of you, and you’re wasting it. You’ll have a hundred women like her falling at your feet.
But Jason wasn’t listening anymore. He had made up his mind. Emily was his choice, and he refused to abandon her. Then and there, father and son parted ways.
For the next three years, there was total silence between them. Robert refused to speak to Jason. He heard through distant relatives that Jason had indeed gone to live in that tiny countryside village to be with Emily. It infuriated Robert to even think of it.
Now, three years later, Robert found himself in a restless mood. He had learned through the grapevine that Jason was still in that same village, presumably struggling to raise three kids. The thought amused and infuriated Robert in equal measure.
“What a fool,” Robert muttered under his breath as he grabbed his car keys. “He’s probably sitting in a cramped shack, listening to three screaming babies all day. Time to go see what he’s up to—maybe give him a chance to come back to his senses… or at least have a good laugh.”
He hopped into his gleaming, charcoal-gray luxury sedan, tires crunching over the gravel driveway. The drive took about an hour, winding through a pine forest. The tall trees on either side swayed gently, and the sweet scent of pine filled the air. Robert couldn’t shake a feeling of vague familiarity. The forest’s winding roads teased at his memory. Had he been here before?
“Nonsense,” Robert told himself. “All forests look alike.”
At last, he arrived at a quaint little village. There was a simple grocery store with a hand-painted sign, a post office that looked like it had been there since the 1950s, and a bakery that a friendly old man was just locking up for the afternoon.
Following the directions he’d jotted down, Robert drove toward the outskirts of the village, where farmland stretched out in wide, neat rows. He saw a white picket fence in the distance and a charming, two-story house with a wraparound porch. He slowed down, thinking he must’ve taken a wrong turn. Surely Jason wouldn’t be living in a place that nice.
But the small mailbox at the end of the fence read: “Whitman.”
Robert’s jaw nearly dropped. This wasn’t some dilapidated shack. It was a well-kept farmhouse that looked cozy and bright under the afternoon sun. Hanging flower baskets lined the porch, and a tidy row of rose bushes bordered the walkway. He parked his car and stepped out, still half-expecting to see signs of struggle and poverty.
Instead, he heard laughter. Childish, gleeful laughter. Three little toddlers were racing around the yard, chasing a curious brown puppy that yapped excitedly. The children, two boys and a girl, were rosy-cheeked and full of energy.
“That’s them,” Robert realized with a twinge of shock. “My grandkids… the ones I didn’t want to acknowledge.”
The front door opened, and Emily emerged. She was holding a basket of freshly picked vegetables—carrots, peppers, tomatoes. She looked healthy, confident, and had a glow about her that only happiness can bring. As soon as she noticed Robert, her eyes widened. There was no resentment on her face, just surprise.
“Robert?” she called, setting down the basket.
At that moment, Jason stepped out behind her. He’d filled out a bit since the last time Robert had seen him, looking stronger and more mature. He still had that sunny grin, but now it was framed by a bit of stubble, adding to his grown-up air.
“Dad?” Jason said, astonished.
Robert cleared his throat. He had come prepared with a sarcastic speech, ready to deliver pointed jabs about how Jason must be miserable. But looking around, he couldn’t deny that this was far from the grim scenario he’d imagined. The children were smiling and healthy, the home was warm and inviting, and Jason and Emily looked genuinely content.
“Why don’t you come inside?” Jason offered, though he was clearly unsure if Robert would accept.