One day, I opened the file by accident. It wasn’t work. It was detailed notes about our life: every fight, every vulnerable moment, everything I’d ever told her in confidence.
Except in her writing, I was the villain. When I confronted her, she said it was “just fiction” and that I was overreacting. I wasn’t.
We’re divorced now. Story 10:
A girl showed up at my door last year. She said, “You might be my dad.” I did the math.
She was right. Her mom and I had a very brief fling in college. I never even knew she was pregnant.
Now I text her every day. I still don’t feel like a dad, but I’m trying. Story 11:
Story 12:
When my dad di:ed, we found two phones.
One was full of photos of us—birthdays, trips, random selfies. The other? A whole second family.
A woman. Two kids. Ten years of photos.
He somehow juggled both without either side knowing. We met the other family at the funeral. It was like staring into a mirror.
I haven’t processed it yet.
