A Father’s Day Hijacked
Months before Father’s Day arrived, I was already buzzing with ideas. I wanted it to be perfect—my first one as a dad. But I never expected my girlfriend’s brother to swoop in and derail everything.
That morning, I packed the picnic basket with care. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, making the strawberry lemonade—Hailey’s favorite—glow like pink gold. I’d chilled it overnight, just for today.
Cheese sandwiches, soft fruit for Max, lemon-blueberry muffins, and a cozy blanket—everything was ready. I’d even bought matching sun hats, imagining Hailey’s laughter as she posed with our seven-month-old under the summer sky.
But the moment I stepped back into our apartment, the air turned heavy.
Hailey was shoving her purse with hurried hands, her phone wedged between her ear and shoulder. She barely glanced up.
“Hey,” I said, setting down the basket. “What’s going on?”
“My brother called,” she said, as if it were nothing. “He needs us to watch Mia.”
I froze. “Today?”
She sighed. “He’s taking Molly to that patisserie she’s been begging to try. Just for a couple of hours.”
My stomach dropped. “Hailey, it’s Father’s Day. My first one.”
“I know,” she said, finally meeting my eyes. “But he really needed the favor. He’s had a rough week.”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “And what about my week? What about our plans?”
Her lips thinned. “Are you seriously jealous of a baby?”
“No,” I said, my voice tight. “I’m pissed that your brother always comes first, even today.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”
But I wasn’t. Derek had never liked me.
From the beginning, he’d made it clear I wasn’t good enough for his sister. He smirked when I mentioned my job as a plumber, once asking Hailey—loudly—when I was getting a “real career.” He excluded me from family photos, talked over me at gatherings, and only called Hailey when he needed something: a babysitter, a loan, a last-minute errand.
And she always said yes.
I looked at the picnic basket, then at Max, giggling in his bouncer. My chest ached.
“Fine,” I muttered, grabbing the carrier. “I’ll take Max. You go play nanny.”
Her mouth fell open. “You’re leaving?”
“You already made your choice.”
She didn’t stop me.
The Moment That Changed Everything
The park was quiet, just us and the rustling trees. Max wobbled on the blanket, kicking his legs as I fed him bites of banana. Then, out of nowhere—
“Dada!”
I froze.
“Dada!” he repeated, grinning like he’d unlocked the universe’s greatest secret.
My heart shattered—in the best way. I fumbled for my phone, recording his tiny voice saying it again and again. But as I laughed, my joy dimmed.
Hailey should be here.
The Aftermath
When I got home, Hailey was slumped on the couch, exhaustion lining her face.
“You’re back early,” she said weakly.
“Dessert must’ve been quick,” I replied, unloading Max’s things.
She didn’t answer.
I pulled out my phone. “You should see this.”
As the video played—Max’s bright “Dada!” filling the room—her face crumpled.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, tears spilling. “I missed it.”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah. You did.”
Later, I overheard her on the phone, her voice shaking with rage.
“Derek, where were you really? The patisserie said they never saw you!”
A pause. Then, quieter:
“You lied to me. Again.”
When she hung up, she looked hollow.
“Derek wasn’t at any patisserie,” she said, voice brittle. “He was with someone else. He used me to cover his affair.”
I sat beside her, saying nothing.
“I hurt you,” she whispered. “I should’ve been there. I’ll never get that moment back.”
I took her hand. “But we can make new ones.”
She nodded, squeezing my fingers. “From now on, you come first. Not him.”
A New Beginning
The next day, she surprised me with a framed photo—Max’s first “Dada,” captured mid-giggle. Beneath it, she’d written:
“Your first Father’s Day. The day our son found his words… and I found my clarity.”
I pulled her close, kissing her forehead.
“Happy Father’s Day,” she murmured.
And for the first time in a long time, it truly felt like it was.