The Shocking Confession My Sugar Daddy’s Son Made About His Father: Part 1

My sugar daddy, John, was wait­ing years to develop a piece of land he owned to build prop­erty. His plans had finally been approved and it seemed every­thing was going to work out. I was hop­ing he’d unwind a bit after get­ting the good news, but I was wrong.

That sum­mer, his son came out to visit again, and this time, I got a chance to actu­ally spend time with him. When John was on site bark­ing at every­one, his son and I stayed clear of that.

At that point, John and I were about one year into our rela­tion­ship and he was not afraid to now spend his money. The mon­e­tary aspect of us was great, and if that was all there was to a rela­tion­ship, I would have had no com­plaints. But as a per­son, he was an ass­hole. He was dis­re­spect­ful and we had many fights about the way he spoke to me in front of other people.

I remem­ber him telling his son that I was his nanny, although I know his son knew bet­ter. But with all the things John did, I for­gave him and decided I was going to try my hard­est to make it work. He was not with his wife in any real way, so in my eyes, I was his main woman. I was the one that went to the fam­ily gath­er­ings, I was the one that went to the busi­ness meet­ings, and I was the one who went to any­thing that had to do with rep­re­sent­ing him.

He was ungrate­ful and noth­ing was good enough, includ­ing me, and when I finally real­ized that, I started to pull back. I would go days with­out call­ing him and I would just avoid him. He was turn­ing me into an ugly person—I had begun to swear a lot and I didn’t like it. I was get­ting angry eas­ily and it was all because of him.

There were many times when I would beg him to treat me dif­fer­ently so that we could work, and he’d just ignore me. One night after clos­ing my store, I remem­ber say­ing to him, “You’re going to regret the way you have treated me, because I am going to move on. But I am going to wait until I know you need me, so I can bring you to your knees.”

My threat fell on deaf ears and as many times as I broke up with him, he was at my gate honk­ing his horn and scream­ing my name. I lived in a quiet, peace­ful neigh­bor­hood and he would drive down at full speed and screech his tires at the gate. Then he would bang on my fence and all my neigh­bors would peek over to see what the com­mo­tion was about. If I didn’t come out to meet him, it would go on for hours with him leav­ing the worst mes­sages imag­in­able on my voicemail.

Our rela­tion­ship had started out odd, and it con­tin­ued being odd; I’m sure he couldn’t make sense of it either, but he had just got­ten com­fort­able with the fact that I was around and I was the one he was not able to con­trol. He real­ized I didn’t need him and that I used fire with fire. His mom once told me, “Isabella, he’s my son, but I will tell you this if you want him to stick around, you bet­ter have some back­bone or he will walk all over you and then leave you.”

I knew I needed to get out of this toxic rela­tion­ship, but some­thing kept pulling me back—until the inci­dent that finally pushed me over the edge…