I started working at my stepdad’s construction company at 15. He was tough—“Earn your keep or find a new roof.” While others relaxed, I worked hard, becoming foreman by my mid-20s. I thought I’d earned my place—both in the company and his heart.

Then his estranged son David returned. Despite years of absence, my stepdad welcomed him and let me go. “He has a degree,” he said. “And you’re not blood.” It stung, but I left with dignity.

My girlfriend Bea supported me. Within a week, I became project manager at a rival firm where I was respected and valued.

Meanwhile, David ran my stepdad’s company into the ground. One day, David’s résumé landed on my desk—he’d applied to my new firm. Soon after, my stepdad called, desperate. “I need you back.”

I said no. “I’m happy where I am.”

He replied, “I’m proud of you, son.” And I realized—I didn’t need his approval anymore.