“Daddy, can we invite my real dad to Father’s Day dinner?”
I slammed the brake. We jolted to a stop.
She nodded, curls bouncing. “Yeah! He comes when you’re at work.”
I blinked, stunned. “Maybe you’re mixing something up, sweetie.”
“Uh uh,” she said. “He brings me chocolate. We play tea party. Mommy makes dinner for him sometimes. You know him. He told me he’s my real daddy.”
My grip tightened on the steering wheel. My breath came in fragments. “I know him?” I thought. But I didn’t want to accuse Jess or scare Lily. So I played along.
“Wow,” I said. “That’s a big surprise. Want to play a game? Invite him to dinner on Sunday. But don’t tell Mommy. And don’t tell him I’ll be home. It’ll be our little secret.”
Lily lit up. “A game?”
“Yep. Just between us.”
She beamed. “Okay! I love games!”
Sunday came fast. Jess claimed she had an engagement shoot at the lake. I asked why on Father’s Day. She mumbled something about scheduling conflicts. I nodded, pretending to believe her.
That morning, I made pancakes. Took Lily to the park. Let her pick a sunflower bouquet for the table. Jess was gone by the time we got home.
I told her I’d be out all day, left Lily with a babysitter, and said I’d visit my parents. She didn’t expect me back until late.
Instead, I made dinner. Chicken cordon bleu. Garlic mashed potatoes. Roasted carrots. I poured wine. Lit candles. Lily helped set the table, thrilled about our “game.”
At 6:07 p.m., there was a knock.
I opened the door—and nearly dropped the tray.
Adam.
He wore a button-down and khakis, like he was headed to brunch. He saw me and flinched.
“Hey… bro. Wow, didn’t know you’d be home. What a surprise!”
Behind him, Jess walked up the path. She froze.
“Danny?! What are you—?”
I forced a smile. “Come on in, buddy. My best friend. We were just about to eat.”
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