A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

As the moon hung high, casting its silver glow through the window, Logan crept towards Orson’s room, nudging the door ajar just enough to peer inside. Through the sliver of space, he caught a glimpse of Orson, spectacles perched on his nose, in the midst of a video call with someone Logan couldn’t quite make out.

The only thing he could discern was a particularly melodious female voice emanating from the screen.

“Örson, we’ve been together for ages now. Can’t you just marry me already?”

“Us? Together? Since when?”

“Have you not been with me these past two years?”

Orson adjusted his glasses, his handsome, expressionless face as stoic as ever. “Sorry, I didn’t realize we were dating.”

“Are you freaking insane? What’s so great about those silly games? How can you just ignore me after all the time I’ve wasted on you?”

Orson remained as impassive as a block of ice. “Did I ever ask you to waste your time on me?”

The girl on the screen’s eyes began to well up, her voice breaking, “Orson, you can’t treat me like this…”

Her words trailed off as she caught sight of something, “Orson, why is there a kid behind you?”

Orson swiveled around to see Logan standing at the door, looking lost and forlorn. “Uncle Orson, did I interrupt something?”

Heaving a sigh, Orson wheeled his chair over, scooping Logan into his arms before presenting him to the screen. Logan glanced at the screen, taking in the sight of the rather pretty girl on the other end. However, Orson, holding Logan close, told her, “Sorry, I can’t marry you. I have a son.”

Logan, quick to pick up on the cue, chimed in with an impromptu shout, “Daddy!”

The two of them played their part in this farce with straight faces, leaving the girl sobbing on the other side, “How could you do this to me? Do you know how much I care about you? You jerk! I’ll tell your mother about this!”

Orson clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Don’t bother my mom. You two would drive a man to his grave with your nagging.” NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

“You think I’m a nuisance, don’t you?” the girl flared up, “I’ll go to your mom and she’ll set you straight! Mark my words, you’ll marry me whether you like it or not! There’s only one Mrs. Crowe, and that’s me!”

Orson snorted, “I’d rather spend a lifetime with a guy than with you. Get that through your head.”

As the girl opened her mouth to cry again, Orson promptly ended the call, then patted Logan on the cheek. “Thanks for playing along.”

Logan grinned, “Was she one of your admirers?”

Orson took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Something like that. She’s a nuisance.”

Logan couldn’t help but gossip, “Haven’t you ever thought about getting a girlfriend?”

Orson replied without hesitation, “Nope. Gaming is my life’s project.”

Logan pouted, “Uncle Orson, you’ll never get a girlfriend with that attitude.”

Orson chuckled for once. “Are you lecturing me now?”

“Not at all,” Logan said, climbing onto Orson’s lap and smiling. “Mom was worried about my uncle’s dating life

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before. If you can’t find a girlfriend as well, she’ll probably go nuts with worry.”

“You sure do care a lot…” After a long silence, Orson looked into Logan’s eyes and said, “Maybe you should worry more about your mom first.”

At that, Logan lifted his head proudly, patting his chest. “My mom’s a heartbreaker! She has no trouble finding boyfriends!”

Orson put him down on his feet. “Get some sleep. It’s past your bedtime.”

“I want to sleep with you,” Logan blinked innocently. “I’ve never slept in your bed before.”

Orson was silent for a moment, then said nothing.

The next morning, when Matilda couldn’t find Logan, she pushed open the door to find a large bed with a grown man and a small boy sleeping side by side. Logan was nestled close to Orson, who lay with his eyes shut, the blanket only half–covering his back. They faced each other, each in their own unique pose, looking just like father and son.

Matilda chuckled, “Logan, why did you end up sleeping in your Uncle Orson’s room last night?”

Stirred awake by Matilda’s voice, Logan rubbed his eyes. “Morning, Mom. You’re up early.”

The little boy clambered out of bed and sidled up to Matilda at the doorway, whispering, “Shh! Uncle Orson is still sleeping…”