“Life separated me from my little girl before she was born. I never got to hold her. I never watched her grow up. I never heard her call me Dad.”
His voice remained controlled, but his hand trembled around mine.
My mother had raised me alone. She had never told me my father’s name.
Whenever I asked about him, she offered the same answer.
“He chose fear over us.”
After her death, I searched through every drawer, box, envelope, and old photograph she had left behind. I found no name, no address, and no explanation.
Nathan’s request should have frightened me.
Instead, it touched the oldest and deepest wound I carried.
I forced a smile.
“Well, then… hello, Dad.”
Nathan laughed so hard that it turned into a coughing fit.
I reached for the call button, but he caught my wrist.
“Don’t ruin my first minute as a father.”
“You’ve been my father for less than a minute, and you’re already giving orders.”
“I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”
Neither of us understood how true those words were.
