Dad’ to Our Father’s Day Dinner

“You already did,” I said. “You just didn’t admit it.” My chair scraped as I stood, heart thundering but voice steady. “You both have ten minutes. Get your things. Get out of my house.” Jess gasped. “You can’t just—” “I can,” I said. “And I am.” Lily’s lip trembled. “Daddy?”  I knelt beside her and took her hands. “Sweetheart, listen to me. I love you. I’m not going anywhere. You’ll always have me, no matter what.” She nodded slowly, then climbed into my arms. “Okay.” I kissed her forehead before looking back at Adam and Jessica. “You heard me. Ten minutes.” They left in stunned silence. Adam muttered an apology. Jess couldn’t look at me. I didn’t watch them go—I just held Lily.

The next day, I filed for divorce. Jessica didn’t contest it. There was nothing left to say. Adam called, texted, emailed. I blocked him everywhere. We began paternity testing days later, but the truth is, I don’t care about the results. Biology doesn’t change her bedtime tears, her fevers, or our kitchen dances. She’s mine. Last night, Lily climbed into bed with me. “Daddy?” she whispered. “Yeah, baby?” “I don’t want to play that game again.” I pulled her close. “Me neither. I’m sorry, my baby. You’ll never have to again.” She looked up at me with honest, wide eyes. “Are you still my real daddy?” I didn’t hesitate. “I always have been. I always will be.” She nodded and rested her head on my chest. That was all she needed. 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.