“If you go through with this, you’re no longer my daughter.” Those were the last words my father said to me three years ago, before slamming the door on our relationship. I thought I’d never hear from him again—until his black car pulled into my driveway.
I didn’t plan for life to turn out this way. If you had told me three years ago that I’d be sitting here writing this, estranged from the man who raised me, I’d have laughed in your face. Back then, my world was simple. Or so I thought.
Young woman in deep thoughts | Source: Midjourney
It all started with two pink lines. Two tiny lines that changed my life forever. I was 25, working as a junior architect in the city, and in love with Lucas, a soft-spoken carpenter from a small village just outside of town.
Lucas wasn’t the type to sweep you off your feet with grand gestures. His charm was quieter—thoughtful notes tucked into my lunch, the way he remembered every little thing I said, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at me. He was my peace in a world of chaos. And I was sure my dad would hate him.
I wasn’t wrong.
A happy young couple | Source: Midjourney
When I told my dad I was pregnant and wanted to marry Lucas, I could feel my heart pounding like it wanted to escape.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. My father, a tall, imposing man with silver hair and sharp, calculating eyes, just stared at me. No shouting, no slammed doors. Just a long, heavy silence. His expression was unreadable, which somehow made it worse.
Wealthy man seated in his living room | Source: Midjourney
Finally, he spoke, his voice calm but colder than I’d ever heard. “If you go through with this, you’re no longer my daughter.”
I blinked, unsure if I’d heard him correctly. “What? Dad, you don’t mean that—”
“I do.” His words were like ice. “You’re making a mistake, Lily. That boy has nothing to offer you. No money, no future. You’re throwing your life away.”
“He’s not ‘that boy.’” My voice cracked, but I pressed on. “Lucas is kind. He’s hardworking. He loves me, Dad. Isn’t that enough?”
Father and daughter having a serious conversation | Source: Midjourney
My father’s gaze hardened. “Love doesn’t pay bills. It doesn’t secure a legacy. I raised you better than this.”
I felt the sting of tears but refused to cry. “You raised me to stand up for myself. To fight for what matters. Lucas and I are starting a family, Dad. I wish you could see that.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he turned, walked to his office, and shut the door. That was it. No goodbye. No “I’ll miss you.” Just silence.
That night, I packed my things, left the house that had been my home since I was born, and moved in with Lucas. As for my dad, he cut all ties.
Woman leaving her home | Source: Midjourney
For months, anger consumed me. How could he? How could my father, the man who used to tuck me in every night and braid my hair before school, abandon me just because I fell in love with someone he deemed unworthy?
I cried myself to sleep more times than I can count, but life didn’t wait for me to heal. Life with Lucas demanded every ounce of strength I had.
His tiny house felt like a shoebox, especially once my belly began to swell. “I know it’s not much,” Lucas would say, his voice laced with guilt. “But we’ll make it work.”
Struggling couple inside their modest home | Source: Midjourney
And we tried. He took on every job he could find, from fixing fences to building kitchen cabinets. I did what I could, though being pregnant with twins—or so we thought—left me exhausted most days.
When the twins turned out to be triplets, I nearly fainted in the delivery room. Lucas looked equally terrified but managed to whisper, “Guess we’re overachievers.”
Newborn triplets | Source: Midjourney
Sleepless nights became our norm. We shared every fear—how we’d afford diapers if the electricity would stay on if we were failing as parents. There were fights, too, born out of exhaustion and stress, but Lucas never wavered. He’d rock one baby while soothing another and still manage to kiss my forehead.
Slowly, things shifted. Lucas’ skill with carpentry caught the eye of a local business owner who commissioned a massive project. Word spread, and soon, we couldn’t keep up with the orders.
A young male carpenter working | Source: Midjourney
I started managing the books and finances. By the time the triplets were two, our once-shoebox life had transformed. We bought a modest home, and a secondhand car, and for the first time, I felt like we were breathing.
Then came the call.
Close up of a smartphone | Source: Pexels
“Lily,” my father’s voice cut through the static. It was sharper than I remembered. “I hear you have children now.”
My throat tightened. “Yes. Three of them.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow,” he said flatly. “You and the children deserve a better life. I’m giving you one chance to come back. If you say no… this is goodbye for good.”
When I hung up the phone, I felt a mix of dread and anticipation. My father was coming. The man who had turned his back on me, who hadn’t so much as called in three years, was suddenly inserting himself into my life. Why now?
Woman on phone | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, his sleek black car pulled into our gravel driveway, looking out of place against the backdrop of our modest home. He stepped out wearing a tailored suit, the kind I used to see him wear when I was little. The sight of him brought a lump to my throat, but I swallowed it down. This wasn’t the time for weakness.
“Dad,” I said, forcing a polite tone as I opened the door.
“Lily,” he replied, his voice as formal as ever. No warmth, no acknowledgment of the years lost.
Lucas appeared at my side, his hand resting lightly on my back, a silent show of support. My father’s eyes flicked to him, barely pausing before shifting to the house behind us.
Senior man paying her daughter and husband a visit | Source: Midjourney
“May I come in?” he asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.
I stepped aside, letting him walk through the door. He moved slowly, inspecting everything as though he were a judge on some reality show. His gaze lingered on the hardwood floors Lucas had installed, the family photos lining the walls, and the corner where the triplets’ toys were neatly stacked. His face was unreadable, but his silence was deafening.
Then he turned to me, shaking his head. “Oh, no! What have you done?” His voice cracked, his despair unmistakable. “You’re not struggling!”
Dad paying his daughter a visit | Source: Midjourney
I blinked, caught off guard. “No, we’re not,” I replied, my tone steady. “We’ve built a good life here.”
He stared at me, his jaw tightening. “You could’ve had more. You still can. Come with me, Lily. Bring the children. I can give them opportunities you’ll never be able to.”
Lucas’ hand tensed on my back, but I held my ground. “They already have everything they need. Love, stability, and parents who worked hard to build a home for them. We don’t need anything else.”
My father’s face hardened. “You’ll regret this,” he said coldly. But there was something else there too—pain.
Man and his daughter having a conversation | Source: Midjourney
My father’s face darkened as my words hung in the air. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out. I stood frozen, watching him march to his car. He yanked the door open and sank into the driver’s seat, slamming it shut.
I waited for the engine to roar to life, for him to peel out of the driveway and disappear again. But the car didn’t move. Minutes passed, then an hour, and then another. From the window, I could see him through the windshield, his head in his hands. He wasn’t angry. He looked… broken.
Sad senior man in deep thoughts | Source: Midjourney
“What’s he doing?” Lucas asked softly, standing beside me with one of the triplets perched on his hip.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
The sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the yard. Finally, after three long hours, my father stepped out of the car. He moved slowly, his shoulders slumped in a way I’d never seen before. When he reached the door, he hesitated, his hand hovering over the wood before finally knocking.
I opened the door to a man who looked nothing like the father I’d grown up with. His face was streaked with tears, his eyes red and raw.
Father and daughter having an emotional conversation | Source: Midjourney
“I was wrong,” he said, his voice trembling. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was push you away.”
I swallowed hard, my own tears threatening to spill. “Dad…”
“I thought you were throwing your life away,” he continued, his voice breaking. “But I was blind. You’ve built something beautiful, something I should have been proud of from the start.”
And then he broke. The man who had always seemed larger than life crumbled before me, sobbing in a way I’d never imagined. Without thinking, I reached for him, pulling him into a hug.
“I missed you,” I whispered.
Senior man hugging his daughter | Source: Midjourney
For the first time in years, we talked. Really talked. He apologized—over and over—for his pride, his mistakes, the years we’d lost. And I forgave him.
As the triplets toddled in, giggling and curious, he knelt down, his eyes wide with wonder. “Hi there,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
“Grandpa?” one of them asked, and he nodded, tears falling freely.
“Yes,” he choked out, smiling through the sobs. “Grandpa’s here now.”
Senior man hugging bonding with his grandchildren | Source: Midjourney
Loved this story? You won’t want to miss this one: My Dad Had Dozens of Affairs, Thinking Our Mom Would Never Leave Him – What She Did to Him Stunned Everyone.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided as “is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
My Daughter Called Me Telling about a Screaming Woman in My Bedroom – I Rushed Home but Was Not Ready to See This
When Tammy gets a panicked phone call from her 13-year-old daughter, Piper, she does what any mother would do. She rushes home to make sure that everyone is okay, especially because Piper said that there was a woman with her husband, Paul, and they were locked in the master bedroom. But when Tammy gets home, she sees that not everything is what it seemed.
I was barely paying attention to the droning voice on the other end of the conference call when my phone vibrated violently on the table. It was Piper, my daughter. Heart skipping a beat, I excused myself from the call and answered quickly.
A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
“Mommy, please come home, there’s a woman screaming!” Piper’s voice trembled with fear.
Panic surged through me.
“Honey, where’s Dad? Wasn’t he supposed to pick you up from school today?”
A shocked woman | Source: Unsplash
My daughter hesitated, sighing deeply before she continued.
“Dad is here! He’s in your room! He and the woman are in your room,” she replied, a note of confusion in her voice.
Piper was 13; she was still innocent to the world and everything that came with it.
Teenage girl on the phone | Source: Pexels
But hearing her, my heart started racing.
“Baby, stay where you are. I’m coming right now.”
I quickly returned to my conference call, saying that I had a family emergency to get to. I pulled my keys off the Lego hook Piper had made me, and left the office immediately.
Car keys hanging on a hook | Source: Unsplash
Thoughts of betrayal sliced through me as I sped home.
But it made no sense, Paul was the most considerate person I had ever met. And he was the complete opposite of me. Paul was warm and loving, whereas I could be cold and straightforward.
A smiling man sitting outside | Source: Unsplash
He was into alternative medicine and healing and knew everything he could about crystals and the like. He healed through his hands. There was no way that he would willingly hurt me like this.
But then again, my daughter was in the house. And Piper wouldn’t lie about this.
Assorted crystals | Source: Pexels
Is he really cheating on me? I thought as I gripped the steering wheel. With our daughter right in the house?
It would be unforgivable. It would be the end. I would leave Paul and never go back.
As I sat at a red light, I thought about what Piper was thinking. Surely, hearing a random woman scream was enough to shake her to her core.
Twenty frantic minutes later, I pulled into the driveway, nearly colliding with the mailbox in my haste. Now that I was here, my panic had intensified deeper.
A red traffic light | Source: Unsplash
I thought about looking for Piper first, but I didn’t want to alert Paul and his guest to my presence. I wanted to catch him in the act.
I took my phone out of my handbag and was ready to confront the worst. I had my camera recording. I heard sounds coming from my bedroom, followed by a woman’s loud whimper.
A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
Pushing open the door, the scene before me halted me in my tracks.
Paul, my husband, was massaging a woman in our room.
But it wasn’t what it seemed; that was clear. My husband’s hands were professional and focused.
An opened bedroom door | Source: Unsplash
My husband worked as a masseur and reiki master, and while he had his own rooms, sometimes clients would come home for their appointments.
But this was the first time that he had set up his table in our bedroom. Then it dawned on me; we were renovating Paul’s office outside the house.
A person giving a massage | Source: Unsplash
Of course, he had no other place to work from home. He had all these ideas about turning our garden cottage into an entire Zen space for himself.
But our contractors were working at their own pace, and the project was taking a lot longer than it should have.
At the sound of my gasp, they both turned and jerked in surprise.
A home renovation | Source: Unsplash
“I’m so, so sorry,” I stuttered, the blood draining from my face as I realized the gravity of my misunderstanding.
Turning off the camera, I felt a rush of embarrassment.
I went to Piper’s room and found her sitting under the covers with a book.
An embarrassed woman blocking her face | Source: Unsplash
“Come on, sweetheart,” I said. “Let’s go make some cookies.”
I needed to do something with my hands. I felt an impossible sense of guilt. I should have known that Paul would never cheat on me; he just wasn’t that type of man. If he was feeling unfulfilled in any way, then he would have told me straight out, rather than betray me.
Mom talking to daughter | Source: Pexels
But it was more than that; Paul was an incredible father, and he always ensured that Piper was taken care of first. It was one of the reasons that he was renovating the space outside, so that he could always be around for her.
The thought of Paul doing anything unsavory in front of our child was unheard of, and yet I still believed it.
A father and daughter duo | Source: Unsplash
But as I went about taking all the cookie ingredients out, I realized that I was justified in my feelings.
I reacted as any mother would. I reacted to the panic of my daughter, however misunderstood it now was.
I knew what I needed to do. I needed to explain it all to Piper; she needed to know that there was nothing wrong with Paul’s actions.
“Honey, do you know what Dad does for work?” I asked, trying to smooth over the confusion in her mind.
Baking ingredients | Source: Unsplash
“Yes, he massages people, right?” she said, picking her way through the chocolate chips.
“So, the woman upstairs, she’s one of Dad’s clients,” I continued gently.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
I measured the flour as Piper helped herself to a glass of milk.
A container of chocolate chips | Source: Unsplash
“But then, why was she screaming?” my daughter asked. “Was Dad hurting her? Isn’t a massage supposed to feel good? I know how you feel when Dad massages your feet.”
I stood beside her and gently bumped my hip to hers.
A person getting a foot massage | Source: Pexels
“Well, some massages are a bit more intense, honey. You can ask Dad when he’s done, and he can explain it to you. You know, once, Dad did an anticellulite massage for me; I screamed the entire time because it was so painful, but it helped me! If the woman was screaming, it wasn’t meant to hurt her beyond helping her heal.”
Piper looked at me for a moment and then nodded.
A person getting a massage | Source: Pexels
“Dad wasn’t doing anything wrong,” I said as I put the first batch of cookies into the oven.
“Why did Dad do it here?” she asked, her mind still racing.
“You can ask Dad, but maybe she just needed to see him today. And he wasn’t at his rooms, remember? He needed to pick you up from school.”
School parking lot | Source: Unsplash
Piper looked down at the counter and added chocolate chips to her milk. Not that they would do anything to the flavor.
Finally, she seemed satisfied with all my answers.
I washed the dishes while the cookies baked. Piper told me all about her day at school and how much she loved her new art class.
A person using paint | Source: Unsplash
“We can do whatever we want, Mom!” she said. “Like, today, we were told to paint something with the color blue. That was the theme, and we could do whatever we wanted within those lines.”
As the oven bell went off, I took the cookies out and left them for Piper.
Woman taking out cookies | Source: Pexels
I went back upstairs, ready to apologize to my husband and the woman once again. As I entered my bedroom, Paul was wrapping up and folding the towels. The client, now dressed, offered an awkward apology before leaving, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Once we were alone, I approached Paul, who was blowing off the candles with more force than necessary.
Lit candles | Source: Unsplash
“Paul, I’m so sorry,” I began. “I thought the worst. I feared the worst. I fed off Piper’s energy because she didn’t know what was happening, so I was terrified at the panic in her voice.”
My husband stopped and looked at me, his expression softening.
“I saw the look on your face, Tammy,” he said. “I should have realized how this looked and warned you. I should have explained it to Piper, too. Cheryl is very loud when it comes to these things.”
Couple talking | Source: Pexels
“You need to talk to Piper,” I said. “I think she understands, but at the same time, it would make more sense coming from you. She’ll feel comforted.”
My husband enveloped me into a bear hug.
We held each other, the earlier adrenaline giving way to a shaky relief.
“Let’s just make sure we talk more, okay? I never want to feel that way again,” I murmured into his chest.
As we disconnected from the embrace, I felt the tension dissipate. We had stumbled, yes, but we had also found our way back to trust.
A couple embracing | Source: Pexels
We went downstairs, and Paul took out a tub of vanilla ice cream to make ice cream sandwiches.
Paul was going to talk to Piper, and I was going to shower to give them some space.
I knew that he would make her understand everything properly.
Ice cream sandwiches | Source: Unsplash
What would you have done?
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