Summer in Bloom - Chapter 1

I’d suspected I wasn’t my parents’ biological child since I was little.

The reason?

They were straight-A students. I’d been allergic to studying my entire life.

Together, they were an unbeatable pair of business geniuses with sky-high IQs.

I was an unremarkable spoiled rich kid with a remarkable love of spending money.

But whenever I started doubting myself, Mom and Dad would hug me and crowd around the mirror with me.

“How could our precious Fanfan not be our own little boy?”

“Look at that face. Who could have given you those looks except us?”

“Besides, our baby just hasn’t found something he likes learning yet.”

“That’s society’s problem, not yours.”

“As long as we’re here, all you have to do is be happy.”

My parents were as good-looking as they were intelligent.

Apparently, all my IQ points had gone into my face.

Surrounded by their love, I grew up confident, sunny, proud, and outgoing.

Then, by pure chance, I found out.

I really wasn’t their biological child.

We did four paternity tests.

When I wanted a fifth, Mom and Dad held me close.

“Does not sharing our blood mean you’re no longer our baby?”

“Fanfan, family and love aren’t written on a piece of paper.”

“You’ll always be our darling son.”

Mom and Dad began searching for their biological son.

To keep me from feeling insecure, they treated me even better than before.

They even sat me down for a heart-to-heart, promising me over and over that finding their child wouldn’t mean abandoning me.

“It’ll just mean one more person to love our Fanfan.”

They gave me more than enough love and reassurance.

And then, two years later, today happened.

Standing on the other side of a door, holding the flowers I’d brought specially for Mom, I heard that they’d found him.

Mom was crying.

Dad’s eyes were red, too.

For the first time, their tears weren’t for me.

Mom cried easily, but she was strong.

When I was sick, she’d cry, then take meticulous care of me until I got better.

When I fell off my bike, she’d cry, then spend the entire day helping me practice.

When someone bullied me, she’d cry, then defend me with everything she had.

When she learned I wasn’t her biological child, she’d cried, then held me and said, “Fanfan didn’t grow inside Mommy’s tummy. He grew inside Mommy’s love.”

“That makes you my baby.”

But this time, her tears weren’t falling for me.

Somehow, it didn’t feel right to push the door open and wipe them away.

She was holding a photograph, her tears full of guilt and love.

“This is our child.”

“Good grades, clever and capable, considerate and well behaved. We won’t have to worry about leaving the company to him.”

“He’s wonderful in every way.”

“We can’t let him meet Fanfan.”

“We’ve failed him.”

Mom wiped away her tears.

“I’ll introduce Fanfan to a few girls his age soon.”

Why?

Why couldn’t he meet me?

Hadn’t they promised to tell me the moment they found him?

Were they afraid I’d be a bad influence on the precious son they’d just found?

After all, I’d been good at causing trouble since I was little.

And I still hadn’t achieved a thing.

He was back, and suddenly all I was good for was a marriage alliance?

Did they not want me anymore?

Or was it their son who didn’t want to see me? Did he hate me before we’d even met?

I wanted to push the door open and ask them outright.

Then Mom lowered her hand, and I caught sight of the photograph. My voice deserted me.

He really did look like them.

The sort of resemblance that told you, at a glance, that they were family.

Unlike me.

Whenever I’d thought I didn’t look like my parents, Mom would kiss me.

“Of course you do.”

“Our baby just won the genetic lottery and turned out even prettier.”