The gentle candlelight illuminating the Forrester mansion that fateful night of July 14, 2025, stood in stark contrast to the tsunami of fear and betrayal brewing within Eric Forrester’s very heart. Alone in his grand living room, Eric clutched a glass of bourbon, his aged fingers trembling, his mind a whirlwind of torment. He knew the angry voices from upstairs – Ridge and Brooke once more – but this time, Ridge’s tone carried a chilling finality.

The Unforgivable Confession That Broke a Father’s Heart

As Ridge descended the stairs with an overnight bag, his face etched with a silent, simmering rage, Eric rose unsteadily. “Wait, Ridge. Don’t leave!” he pleaded. Ridge stopped, turned slowly, his eyes locking with the man who had raised him. “I must, Dad. I cannot continue to act like the man everyone wants me to be. I’m finished.” Eric’s expression twisted in disbelief. Was he leaving Brooke? Ridge nodded. “Indeed, permanently. Not just her, either.”

Then, in a whisper that ripped through the silence of the room like a sonic boom, Ridge’s six words shattered Eric’s world: “I’m not your son. Never was.” The air froze. Eric’s throat tightened, each breath a struggle. He muttered, “Did you say what?” But Ridge was already gone, leaving behind only the chilling echo of his words. Eric’s knees buckled, his heart betrayed him, and he collapsed, the glass of bourbon smashing beside him as the world faded to black. The frantic calls to 911, the thudding footsteps of Donna and R.J., Brooke’s scream – it all blurred into a distant hum. All Eric could hear was Ridge’s voice: “I’m not your son. Never was.”

A Decades-Old Secret Explodes: Eric Knew All Along!

 

At the hospital, the Forrester family gathered in a panic. Finn delivered the grim news: Eric had suffered a severe heart attack. Brooke, consumed by guilt, sobbed, “I’m to blame! He overheard us fighting. He saw Ridge go. Whatever Ridge said, he heard it.” Thomas and Steffy were equally distraught, but Ridge was nowhere to be found.

It was R.J. who eventually tracked Ridge to a motel. “You said something to Grandpa that caused him to pass out. What were you saying?” Ridge’s face was grim. “The reality,” he confessed. “That I am not the son of Eric.” Ridge produced a manila folder: DNA analysis. He admitted to having it done years ago after overhearing Stephanie and Massimo talking, but had buried the truth until he simply couldn’t pretend anymore. “My name isn’t Forrester. Not by blood.” The revelation was a gut punch for R.J. Ridge wasn’t just leaving; he was blowing up their family’s very foundation.

The news spread like wildfire at the hospital. Taylor arrived, aghast. Brooke nodded sadly, confirming the truth. The consequences were immediate and disastrous for Thomas and Steffy. “What does it make us if dad isn’t a Forrester?” Thomas demanded. “What does that signify for the business? The heritage?”