I stood at the kitchen sink, staring at my half-full coffee mug. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow outside. Mornings like this used to mean something — peace, warmth, the comfort of knowing Lily was upstairs, getting ready for school. But recently, everything felt off.
“Lily,” I called. “Want pancakes before school?”
“Not hungry,” she muttered from above, her voice flat.
I winced. She hadn’t sounded like that before. Drying my hands, I faced her as she came down.
“Hey, kiddo. You’ve been kinda quiet lately.”
She shrugged, avoiding my eyes. “Nothing.”
I hated that response. She used to tell me everything, but now she seemed distant, shutting me out. She grabbed her backpack and headed for the door.
“Lily, wait.” I felt panic rise in my chest. “You can talk to me about anything, okay?”
She paused, hand on the doorknob. “Yeah. I know.” Her words were hollow, lacking conviction. She slipped out without another word.
I stood there, the silence oppressive. Something was wrong. I didn’t know what yet, but I would find out.
That afternoon, as I went through the laundry, I found something. Lily’s backpack lay discarded on her bed, a mess of crumpled papers and wrappers. As I cleaned it out, a folded note fell from the side pocket, so worn it looked like it might disintegrate.
The note read: “I’m your real dad. Come and see me behind the school last Monday of September.”
My heart stopped. Real dad? The words blurred as I tried to process them. I was Lily’s dad — I had raised her since birth. This made no sense.
Kate, my wife, had been gone for six years. She wouldn’t have kept something like this from me. She loved me. Would she?
Sick to my stomach, I wondered who could be behind this — and why. The note felt like a deliberate attack. But I couldn’t confront Lily yet. I had to get to the bottom of this first.
The note mentioned meeting on the last Monday of September — two days away. I had to know who was behind this, so I waited.
Two days later, I sat in my car, watching the school. I hated doing this, but I had no choice. I needed answers.
I watched as Lily walked slowly toward the back fence, her body tense. Then I saw him — Jeff, a guy I knew from work. He was standing by the fence, looking calm. It took a moment, but when I realized who it was, my blood ran cold.
A man leaned against the fence, speaking quietly to Lily. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
Lily fidgeted, clearly nervous. “I know this is a lot,” Jeff continued, his voice gentle, too calm. “But your mom wanted you to know the truth. She didn’t want to hurt you. Or… him.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed open the car door and stormed toward them, my heart racing. “What the hell is going on here?”
Jeff flinched, then composed himself. “Trent, I was hoping we could talk.”
“You think you can just show up and tell my daughter you’re her father?”
Jeff looked at Lily, who appeared terrified, then back at me. “She deserves to know. Kate and I… we had something. Lily is my daughter.”
I couldn’t believe it. My hands clenched into fists. “You’re lying. Kate wouldn’t do this to me.”
“She didn’t want to hurt you, Trent. She thought it was for the best.”
I turned to Lily, heart breaking. “Lily, don’t listen to him. He’s lying.”
“Is it true?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Dad… is it true?”
I knelt in front of her, gripping her arms. “It doesn’t matter what anyone says. I’m your dad. I’ve been here every day of your life. That’s what makes me your father.”
She didn’t answer, just stared at me, eyes wide, lip trembling. My heart twisted. I turned back to Jeff, rage flooding me.
“Get out of here.”
Jeff sighed, a hint of pity in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. She deserves to know the truth.”
“You’re not her father. You never will be.”
Jeff gave me one last look before walking away. But Lily’s sob pulled me back. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly.
That night, I lay in bed, thoughts swirling. Could it be true? Could Kate have hidden this from me? The next day, I began digging into Jeff’s past.
It didn’t take long to discover that Jeff had been fired from our company a month ago for lying on his résumé. He had a history of manipulation, of using people to get what he wanted. The relief I felt was overwhelming. He had lied about everything.
A few days later, Lily and I sat on the couch, watching TV. I knew I needed to talk to her.
“Lily,” I began softly, “we need to talk about Jeff.”
She curled closer to me, tense but silent.
“He lied. Jeff isn’t your real dad. He was trying to hurt us.”
Lily’s eyes filled with fear. “But what if it’s true?”
“It doesn’t matter what he says,” I reassured her. “I’m your dad. Always have been. Always will be.”
She looked up at me, her lip trembling. Then, finally, she nodded. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, kiddo.”
A few days later, the police called. Jeff had been arrested for stalking another family. It was over.
Lily was drawing quietly at the kitchen table. I kissed the top of her head. We were going to be okay.
Leave a Reply