Brother Made My Life Hell, Then Got My Wife Pregnant. Now He... - Best Reddit

Brother made my life hell, then got my wife pregnant. Now he wants my help after our parents disowned him and left me their $2 million inheritance. My younger brother, David, has always harbored a deep-seated resentment towards me.

If you think it stemmed from jealousy, you'd be wrong; he was the favored child, not me. There was no reason for him to be envious. To give you some context, our mother always indulged David.

He was the Golden Child of our family. She cooked his meals, did his laundry, and even asked me to help him with his school work. I was expected to assist him simply because we were family, but I never received the same consideration.

I accepted this, as I was quite independent. Perhaps it was partly my fault for always meeting his needs without expecting anything in return. He never helped me when I needed it, and only approached me when he wanted something.

While I was a quiet, introverted kid who enjoyed studying and keeping to myself, he was loud and rough, just like our dad. I also tend to be straightforward and honest, never sugarcoating things. I believe my mother may have developed a negative perception of me because of my straightforwardness.

This favoritism made David the family's darling, and I didn't mind it while we were growing up. However, problems began when he started bullying and mocking me for being different from him. He would tease me about my height and the fact that I wore glasses.

He would sneak into my room, read my diary, and then complain to my mom about what I had written. When I yelled at him and complained to our parents about him invading my privacy, they would laugh it off, saying it wasn't a big deal. He did more awful things like nearly breaking my glasses and putting nasty things in my food.

He even once put little stones in my cereal, but luckily I found them before they could damage my teeth. When I told my mom, she dismissed it, saying, "This is how brothers bond. " Whenever we fought, David would zero in on my insecurities to insult me.

We went to the same school, so he knew I was being bullied by a few kids. Instead of supporting me, he sided with the bullies, calling me names like "ugly loser" or "hairy monkey" and encouraging them to physically harm me, saying I was just a big failure. Another time, during a fight over something trivial that I can't even remember, he told me to kill myself.

While I could easily brush off most insults, that one really hurt, because I was struggling with my mental health at the time. I'm doing better now, but it was devastating to hear that my own brother wanted me dead. Since Dad was often at work, and Mom didn't seem to care much—she even scolded me once, claiming it was my fault for irritating him—things progressively worsened during high school.

There was a shocking incident when David attempted to set my hair on fire, and unbelievably, our mother defended him, claiming he was merely playing. Seriously, who behaves like that? Thankfully, my dad eventually sided with me and pointed out the gravity of the situation.

He even threatened to call the police on David. This moment was a real eye-opener for my brother, as he had never faced any consequences for his actions before. He was genuinely stunned, and my dad made it clear that enough was enough, and that David needed to start respecting his older brother.

Later, Dad came into my room to talk. I never expected his support because he always told David how similar they were, which was true. Dad admitted that he had waited for years, hoping David would mature, but he was slowly realizing that David was becoming a big bully.

Hearing this from my dad was incredibly validating, and I almost broke down in tears. I confessed everything David had done to me over the years and even mentioned the bullying at school. My dad was shocked at how much I had endured.

The next day, he spoke to the principal to ensure the bullies were warned about severe consequences if they continued. Later that evening, Dad enrolled me in MMA at our local gym, telling me I needed to man up and stand up to bullies in my life. I admit that a nerdy kid like me trying to learn to fight might have seemed laughable, but I was very focused.

I managed my time well to balance my studies and daily workouts, and the MMA classes completely changed my life in terms of physique. One day, David was up to his antics again. He stole my pocket money, which we received for helping with chores.

I had been saving it for a while. David sneaked into my room and took it. I caught him just as he was about to cycle off with his friends.

I demanded he return my money, but David mocked me, saying all I could do was run to Daddy for help. I don't know what came over me, but I punched him in the face. He was stunned, fell backward, and I retrieved my money from his pocket before pushing him.

David started crying loudly, which was quite comical. However, my mother rushed out to help him and find out what happened. When she learned I had fought him, she was surprised and reprimanded me, saying I should be a better role model for David, who seemed to enjoy seeing me scolded.

My mother also complained to my dad about my behavior, saying I needed to be controlled. My dad grimly asked both of us to explain ourselves. I told him how David had stolen the money I had worked hard for and saved, while David tried to justify it by saying he needed the money for a date.

. . That, as his brother, I should help him.

However, Dad told David he was lucky I only punched him for stealing because anyone else would have called the police. He continued to tell David that he had no right to take others' things without their consent. David didn't like that and threw a tantrum, likely hoping our mother would side with him.

But Dad remained firm. When David realized he wasn't going to be punished for being hit, he screamed how much he hated me and ran back to his room, locking himself in. Following that incident, David began to distance himself from me.

He had finally understood that he couldn't bully me anymore and that even Dad had stopped supporting his antics. For the first time in a long while, I felt like we were equals. Though he could no longer physically harm me, he resorted to verbal insults when our parents weren't around.

His behavior worsened with age, becoming angrier and more short-tempered each year. When I approached him with a question, he would ignore me and walk away, muttering insults like "nerd" or "loser" under his breath. If he needed to communicate something, he would relay it through our mother instead of speaking to me directly.

When I questioned her about why David couldn't just talk to me, she would urge me to be more understanding. I couldn't tell if it was just puberty or genuine hatred. Over time, dealing with his comments became unbearable, and I longed to move out and get away from him.

I repeatedly asked my mother to mediate a sit-down conversation for us to resolve our issues, but she always refused, saying she didn't want to get involved. When I asked her opinion on why David treated me this way, she would brush off the question. Eventually, I left for my dream University, having earned a scholarship as a top student.

My dad threw a party for me, and even my mom seemed proud. However, David remained aloof and distant, barely acknowledging my achievements. The day I left for University was a mix of excitement for the future and relief to escape the toxic home environment.

The first few months at University were liberating. I made new friends, enjoyed my classes, and started to build a life separate from the oppressive atmosphere of my childhood. The constant fear of David's verbal attacks lifted, giving me a newfound sense of peace.

During my second year, I met my wife, Karen, at a frat party through a friend, and we immediately clicked. Coming from a religious background, having kids outside of marriage was frowned upon. However, when we discovered she was pregnant in our final year, we decided to marry right after graduation.

Our wedding was a small but joyful ceremony. Our parents were happy for us, and we enjoyed the celebration. At that moment, I believed Karen was the love of my life.

I had always envisioned a monogamous relationship, one woman to come home to and share my life with. Despite other women showing interest over the years, I never pursued anything because I was genuinely content in my marriage. Karen was my dream girl, and I never wanted to hurt her.

However, I later uncovered two incidents of infidelity in our marriage. One was an intermittent affair with her married co-worker that spanned several years, and the other was a brief fling with an ex-boyfriend during a visit to her family. Some might think I was naive, and looking back, I can't completely disagree.

Each time we separated for a while, I chose to forgive my wife. I didn't want to raise our child in a broken home and believed we could overcome these obstacles. The affair with her coworker happened when we were young, and I attributed it to youthful mistakes and poor judgment.

For a period, things seemed to get better. Although I could never fully trust her again, I did my best to set aside my doubts, knowing that if I chose to forgive, I had to genuinely work toward a fresh start. It's been 4 years since her second betrayal, and I felt confident in my decision to give her another chance.

Karen seemed to have changed, and we were genuinely happy planning our family's future. However, 3 months ago, my world was shattered once more when she revealed that she had been having a long-term affair and suggested that our son might not be mine. Her words struck me like a ton of bricks.

A mix of shock, betrayal, and disbelief overwhelmed me. I struggled to comprehend the enormity of her confession. In a days, I managed to ask why she had kept such a significant secret and how she could have done something so devastating.

Her reaction was cold and indifferent, as if she were detached from the pain she caused. Her vague responses left me with more questions than answers. It was a surreal and painful moment, confronting the shattered trust and uncertainty about my own family.

I continued to press Karen for the truth because I felt I deserved to know the father of the child I had been raising since birth. Ultimately, she admitted it was David. My eyes widened in shock as I asked Karen what she meant.

She explained that she and David had become friends when I introduced her to my family and she stayed with us from Thanksgiving until New Year's. David, usually cold to me, was warm and polite towards her, which made me glad because I didn't want Karen to feel unwelcome. Karen wanted to be accepted into my family, so she spent significant time with my mom whenever possible.

She noticed the rift between David and me and questioned me about it. I opened up about our strained relationship and explained that we might never repair it due to his unresolved feelings. Karen understood but started including David in our outings.

Hoping it would help us bond whenever we planned to watch a movie, she invited David and we watched whatever he chose. During this time, David and I exchanged a few words, which was an improvement compared to his usual silent treatment. I remember Karen and David hanging out and playing video games together, but I never thought much of it.

Karen told me that one day David opened up to her about his struggles in a recent breakup. Feeling vulnerable, he struck up a friendship with her. She mentioned that he would harmlessly flirt with her when I wasn't around, and eventually things escalated beyond her control.

The vision of my wife and brother sleeping together made me feel sick. Karen confessed that she felt guilty afterward and left him, which matched her abrupt decision to go home instead of spending New Year's with me. Although I tried to convince her to stay, she was adamant about leaving.

When we met back at college after the holidays, she was her usual cheerful self so I didn't question anything. Two weeks later, we found out she was pregnant. Karen admitted she didn't know if the child was mine or David's, and with no way to prove it, she chose to stay with me, knowing I was the more dependable brother.

This was why we got married. My world felt like it was crashing down. The son I loved might not even be mine.

I asked Karen if she had been sleeping with David recently and she slowly nodded. She revealed that they had always stayed in touch because their chemistry was undeniable. They would sneak off to hotels, lying to me about working overtime.

She admitted that half of her business trips were actually romantic getaways with him. I asked why she married me if she wanted my brother and Karen said she didn't want to be the one to break off the marriage. She saw me as a wonderful father to our son and decided to stay.

In her words, she made a mistake and didn't know when to stop. I told Karen I was glad she told me the truth, but that I was going to pack up and leave. She started crying, asking for forgiveness and expected me to yell at her.

Instead, I calmly packed my clothes. Karen insisted that if I loved her, I should fight for her and that mistakes happen in every marriage. When she realized I wasn't going to do anything, she changed tactics, saying our son would be affected by a divorce and that children shouldn't be raised in broken homes.

I reminded her that I might not even be the father, which made her cry more and accuse me of being cruel. It seemed like she believed nothing could make me want to leave the marriage. Perhaps it was partly my fault for letting things slide in the past.

While I did love her, it felt more like it stemmed from thinking we had a son together and had been together since college. Karen kept insisting it wasn't too late to fix things, but I struggled to believe her and had no patience left. Trust was a major issue, and her words felt hollow.

Even if I forgave her, I could never forget she slept with my brother. I've always believed in forgiving mistakes because we're all flawed but this was beyond acceptable limits. I left her crying on the doorstep and checked into a hotel.

The next day, I went straight to my parents and revealed everything about my wife's affair with David, explaining how they had been secretly sleeping together for years. The shock on their faces was undeniable. True to her nature, my mother initially tried to defend David, insisting that her boy could never do such a thing to his own brother.

Determined to expose the truth, I asked my parents to remain silent and let me call David in front of them. I instructed them to stay quiet so I could catch David off guard, making him believe it was a private conversation. When David answered the phone, I confronted him about the affair.

At first, he vehemently denied it, refusing to accept any responsibility. However, when I told him that Karen had admitted to everything, he started blaming her, calling her characterless. He claimed it wasn't his fault if women were attracted to him and that he was the better-looking brother.

I told him firmly that I would expose him to everyone. When David mocked me, saying no one would believe me because he was "The Golden Child," I scoffed at his arrogance and thanked him for confirming the truth. Knowing our parents had heard everything, David went quiet and then spluttered, trying to explain himself and salvage his image.

My mother, still in shock, demanded an explanation from David. He stuttered through a feeble attempt to justify his actions, blaming everyone else but himself and desperately trying to shift the blame onto Karen. I could see my mother, who had once been protective of her favored son, now felt a mix of disappointment and anger.

In that charged moment, I felt a strange sense of vindication. For years, I had endured David's torment. Now the truth was out, and the roles were reversed.

It was David who stood exposed, his actions laid bare for everyone to see. As David's words faltered, my father, usually reserved in his expressions, couldn't contain his disappointment. He asked me to pass him the phone and began to speak to David.

"David," my father began, his voice laden with disappointment, "what you've done isn't just a betrayal of your brother, but a betrayal of this family. You slept with your brother's wife and continued the affair even after they were married. Your actions have severe consequences and have irreversibly shattered the trust we had in you.

I raised both of you to value family loyalty and decency. " "You've shown today defies everything I've tried to teach you. " He paused, letting the weight of his words sink into David's conscience.

"Your disregard for your brother's feelings and the lack of respect for his marriage are unacceptable. You've not only hurt him but also torn apart the bonds that hold our family together. Your mother and I are partly to blame for what you've become, but we will no longer tolerate this behavior.

From today, you're cut off from the college funds I set up for you. You'll have to figure out how to pay your university fees on your own. I will also stop funding your lifestyle.

Do you think it makes you more of a man to sleep with married women? Let's see how you manage without my money. " Throughout this, I maintained a composed demeanor.

Although I initially wanted to scream at David, watching my dad punish him was the ultimate vindication. I had exposed his true nature, and it was clear he had underestimated the consequences. My mother, despite David's persistent protests, continued to justify him.

But my father swiftly ended the call, shutting down David's attempts to explain away his actions. Afterward, my mom approached me and hugged me. It had been a long time since we shared such a moment, but in that embrace, there was an unspoken understanding and support amid the family turmoil.

She apologized for not believing me all this time. My 14-year-old self could never have imagined this moment—being vindicated and embraced by my mother. Following this, my dad helped me find a good lawyer to divorce Karen.

She and her lawyer tried to fight dirty, asking for alimony since I earned more than her. But her affair played heavily in my favor. We also conducted a paternity test, and it was confirmed that David was indeed the father of the child.

The news was incredibly painful, even worse than discovering Karen's infidelity. I was furious that the son I had loved and raised wasn't mine. However, I decided to stay strong.

Karen begged me to continue visiting my son, arguing he shouldn't be punished for the situation. But I couldn't bear to see him. He reminded me too much of David, and I hated it.

After my divorce was finalized, I felt a sense of freedom wash over me as I moved into my bachelor pad. It felt surreal to live alone since I had married so young and never really had the chance to experience independence. However, my naturally independent nature allowed me to quickly adapt to my new lifestyle, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Two weeks ago, my dad called to tell me he was considering changing his will because he didn't want to leave anything to David. My dad is incredibly stubborn, and once he decided to cut David out of his life, he stuck to it. David tried reaching out to our parents and even showed up at their doorstep, begging for forgiveness.

But they refused to let him in, even my mother, who usually gave in to David's tantrums, seemed done with him. Though it must have been hardest for her. David never texted me to apologize for what he had done, showing he didn't regret his actions.

He was just upset about being cut off from our parents. Dad told me he planned to leave everything to me, ensuring David wouldn't contest it later. He would leave David only $1.

My eyes widened in shock as my dad had worked hard his entire life, including his assets, retirement fund, and life insurance. The total came to nearly $2 million. The only condition in his will was that if my dad passed away before my mom, she would continue living in their house, even though ownership would transfer to me.

I didn't mind this as I wanted to care for my mom in her final days. Somehow, David found out about this and, unable to reach our parents, called me yesterday, trying to make amends. He explained how he was struggling with college and that after Karen discovered the paternity of the child, she had been pestering him for child support.

He said he had no money and was looking for part-time jobs but couldn't find anything. He begged me to talk to our family to start fresh since he really needed my help. I laughed in his face and told him I was done with him.

I reminded him that he should have thought about the consequences before sleeping with my wife and getting her pregnant. David argued that I was being unfair and that Karen was also to blame, to which I agreed. I reminded him that I had divorced her, making her his responsibility now.

He shouldn't be calling me to complain about her or the child since these were the consequences of his actions. David started to raise his voice, but I interrupted, reminding him that he was no longer the favored child in the family. He was the black sheep who had slept with his own brother's wife.

At that moment, David began to cry, telling me how everyone, including our grandparents and relatives, had turned against him. While this was true, it was no longer my concern. I told him we were done and that he should never call me again since I no longer considered him my brother.

Since then, I've replayed the conversation in my mind. Despite my hatred for my brother, I had never heard him cry, at least not since we were kids. I won't lie, it did hurt me a bit to see him so helpless.

So, I guess I'm here to ask if I should talk to our parents about him or if I would be in the wrong if I don't. " "Hi, everyone! Many of you have been asking why I am no longer in contact with my son Henry, and some have even called me cruel.

" Need to explain that I am not comfortable raising another man's child. This isn't a stepson situation. I was led to believe Henry was my son, only to later discover he is actually my brother David's son.

Naturally, this revelation hurt deeply and I cried over it for days. The main reason I don't want any contact with Henry is that I no longer want Karen in my life. If I remain connected to her child, she will find a way to re-enter my life, and I need my space.

You may think I'm cruel or selfish, but I can't see him ever again, at least not for a very long time. Update two: Most of you correctly guessed that it was my mother who informed David about my dad changing his will, leading David to call me as a last resort to fix things. I confronted her in front of my dad and she broke down, saying I had punished David enough and that he had learned his lesson.

My dad firmly told my mother that if she believed what David did was forgivable, then he could no longer stay married to her because he could never forgive such a betrayal. This threat silenced my mother. My dad made it clear that if she ever talked with David again and we found out, she could pack her bags and leave.

As I mentioned, my dad is very stubborn. Hopefully, my mother will learn from her mistakes. Update three: Reddit, it's been 5 months since my last update.

My relationship with my parents has improved over the past few months. My dad and I go golfing every weekend and he treats me more like a buddy than a son. Although my mother misses David, she has stayed away from him.

The last I heard about David was from my cousin, who said David had been asking everyone for money and eventually had to drop out of college because he couldn't afford the fees. He and Karen are living together, and he has a part-time job as a mechanic. Apparently, they are raising Henry together, which is a good thing, I guess.

I never discuss David with my parents, and they don't bring him up either. For everyone asking, I am doing quite well. I was promoted at my job two months ago, so my salary has significantly improved.

I haven't been dating anyone, as I feel I still need time and space to heal. I've been going to therapy, so we'll see how that works out. Thank you for watching.

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