Half-brother

I was only six when my father passed away. He had been battling with cancer, an aggressive form of colon cancer, for four long years. I was not by his side when he left this world, but my mother was. She was emotionally scarred and heartbroken, spending many days afterwards in mourning. It was hard for me too, knowing that the house was one person closer to emptiness. At school, many of the other kids had siblings, some older, some younger. It saddened me to realize that I would never have any of my own, for I was an only child.

But four months after my father died, my mother found herself a new boyfriend. I saw them holding hands and exchanging kisses. Soon, the two had rings on their left ring finger - they had been married. My mother became pregnant with a child, and it would become my half-brother. At first, I didn't know what "half-" meant. I thought it meant a person cut in half.

A baby that was relatively in one piece came out on delivery day. My mother explained what the "half-" meant and begged me to treat him like my full brother. And I did. He grew up thinking that his father was my father, and his mother was my mother, and that we were all one big, happy family, united socially and genetically.

He would soon learn the truth. The terrible truth. And when my mother's second marriage turned sour, he has to make a difficult decision. He knows that I'm only his half-brother... but will he still treat me and love me like a full brother?