“She reached out,” he said gently. “And you said you wanted to know her. So… here’s your chance.”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me felt betrayed, the other part terrified, and another strangely hopeful. So we met a few times—coffee shops, short walks, awkward conversations. It didn’t take long to understand why my dad had been both parents all these years. My mom wasn’t cruel, just… distant. Unattached. Still the same person who’d walked away.
A month later, I sat beside my dad on the couch, tears spilling before I could speak. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t know.”
He didn’t lecture me. He didn’t say “I told you so.” He just wrapped an arm around me and said softly, “You needed to see for yourself.”
And in that moment, I realized just how much he had always loved me—enough to let me discover the truth, even when it hurt him.
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only.
