He Chose to Be Someone Else’s Dad

While organizing my daughters backpack, I found a photograph tucked away in a hidden compartment. In it, Eric held a two or three-year-old girl, smiling gently. That child wasnt my daughter.

I flipped it over and saw a line of handwriting:

To Daddys Dearest Little One, Happy First Birthday.

Erics handwriting was all too familiar. In five years of marriage, every note, every love letter hed written, Id kept in a small metal box.

I stared at that line for a long time. Dearest Little One. So he used that phrase, too. Just never for my daughter.

I pulled out my phone and messaged Eric:

When did you learn to be a dad?

He replied quickly.

I didnt answer. Putting the photo back in my daughters backpack, I went to my study. I opened my laptop and found the divorce papers.

You can continue to be someone elses father. My daughter, I will raise myself.

When Eric called, I was at the hospital with Lily, our daughter, getting an IV drip. Lily, three and a half, was burning up with a fever of 103 degrees Fahrenheit, her little face flushed, whimpering in my arms. I held her with one arm and my phone with the other, listening to the person on the other end.

Tonights dinner engagement is unavoidable. Put Lily to bed early, dont wait up for me.

She has a fever, I said. One hundred and three degrees.

There was a second of silence on the other end.

Then take her to the hospital, what good am I? Im not a doctor.

Im already at the hospital.

Well, there you go. His tone was tinged with impatience. I really cant get away here. The deal with Mr. Jenkins is signing tomorrow, I have to be at this dinner tonight. You can handle it alone, right?

I looked at Lily in my arms. She was feverish and hazy, still calling out Daddy.

Shes calling for you, I said.

Eric, shes calling for you.

Alright, alright, I get it. Ill come see her after Im done. I have to go.

The call ended. I stared at the screen for a few seconds. It went dark, then lit up again with a new message:

Remember to give her medicine, dont forget again.

I didnt reply.

Lily had a fever all night, and I held her all night. By morning, her temperature finally dropped, and she slept soundly in my arms. I leaned against the hospital bed, just closing my eyes in a daze when my phone rang again. It was Eric.

Which hospital are you at? Ill come by.

I gave him the address.

Half an hour later, he appeared at the ward door, carrying a fruit basket, dressed in a perfectly ironed suit, as if hed just stepped away from an important event. He walked to the bedside and looked down at Lily.

Fevers gone?

Yes.

Good. He placed the fruit basket on the nightstand. What did the doctor say?

Viral infection, two days of observation.

He nodded, glanced at his watch. Then Ill be going. There are things to do at the firm. If I cant make it back tonight, order takeout for yourself.

I watched his back disappear through the doorway. From the moment he entered until he left, it was less than five minutes. He didnt touch Lilys hand. Didnt ask if shed been uncomfortable last night. He didnt even spare her a second glance.

I lowered my head, looking at my daughters small face. She was still asleep, her brow furrowed, as if having a bad dream. I suddenly remembered that photo.

To Daddys Dearest Little One, Happy First Birthday.

It turned out he wasnt unable to be a dad. He just couldnt be Lilys dad.

Erics distance from Lily seemed to have been set the day she was born. He was away on a business trip that day. When my contractions started, I called him. He was having dinner with a client.

Ill be back as soon as Im done, he said.

I waited for thirty-six hours. By the time he returned, I had already signed the consent forms for surgery, gone into the delivery room, and given birth to Lily, all by myself. He stood in the hospital room, looking at the swaddled baby, with an unfamiliar expression on his face. Like he was looking at someone elses child.

You worked hard, he said. Then he went to the law firm.

During my postpartum recovery, he came home a handful of times, staying less than half an hour each visit. My mother couldnt bear it, grumbling behind his back.

Who does a father like that?

I defended him. Hes busy. He just became a partner; he has a lot of cases.

My mother sighed. No matter how busy, a husband and father should still care for his wife and child, shouldn't he?

I didnt speak. I didnt know how to defend him either.

When Lily was three months old, she cried inconsolably at night, and I couldnt soothe her. Eric was woken up, sat up with a frown.

Can you make her stop crying?

Shes fighting sleep, what can I do?

Then take her out and soothe her. I have court tomorrow.

I took Lily to the living room. That night, I sat on the sofa until dawn.

When Lily turned one, I held a small birthday party at home. Eric promised to come, but then a client called last minute.

You guys start without me, Ill try to make it.

I waited until the cake was cut, and he still hadnt returned. Lily grabbed a pen, smiling to show her two tiny teeth. I took a photo and sent it to him.

He replied. Good. She can be a lawyer someday.

I asked. Where are you?

He replied. With a client, cant leave.

He came home very late that night. I had already put Lily to sleep. He tiptoed in, glanced at her, then lay down, turning his back to me.

Sleep, he said.

I looked at his back and suddenly felt that this man was very far away from me.

Very far.

I found that photo on Lilys third birthday. She had just learned to pack her own backpack, and every day before preschool, she insisted on organizing her things herself. That morning, as she rummaged through her backpack, she pulled out a photo, held it up, and asked me:

Mommy, whos this?

I took it. In the photo, Eric was holding a little girl, with a childrens amusement park in the background. The girl wore a pink dress, with two small braids, looking about two or three years old. Erics smile was incredibly gentle. A tenderness I rarely saw on his face.

I flipped it over and saw the handwriting.

To Daddys Dearest Little One, Happy First Birthday.

The date was last year. Last year, Lily was two. Eric had said he was busy with a big case, barely coming home for three months. I had taken Lily to her check-ups, for her vaccinations, and celebrated her birthday all by myself. So, this was what he was busy with.

I squatted down, looking into Lilys eyes.

This is Daddys friend, I said. The photo might have been put in by mistake.

Lily nodded, half-understanding, and ran off. I put the photo back in her backpack and went to the balcony. I stood there for a long time. The wind was strong, making my eyes sting.

I remembered the first time Eric held my hand, at the university library entrance during our sophomore year. It was raining heavily that day, and I didnt have an umbrella, so I stood under the eaves, waiting for the rain to stop. He walked over, holding an umbrella, and said.

Let me walk you back to your dorm.

The umbrella was small; half of his body got soaked. When we reached the dorm building, he handed me the umbrella.

Keep it. Just give it back tomorrow.

I asked him. How will you get back?

He smiled. Ill just run fast. And then he really ran into the rain. I watched his back, my heart skipped a beat.

Three years of dating, five years of marriage. Eight years. I thought I knew him. But that photo made me realize I had never truly seen who he was.

From that day on, I started paying attention. I noted the time he came home, the expression on his face when he looked at his phone, the occasional overtime absences. I discovered many things I hadnt noticed before.

He had one weekend trip every month, but the destination was always a nearby city, a same-day round trip. He never let go of his phone, even taking it into the bathroom when he showered. He would occasionally buy childrens toys, but never said who they were for, just leaving them casually in the entryway.

Once, I couldnt help but ask.

Is this for Lily?

He paused, then said. Oh, right, for her.

But he had bought a doll. Lily liked toy cars.

I didnt expose him. I just put that doll into the deepest part of the cabinet.

Three months later, I found a shopping receipt in the pocket of his discarded suit jacket. Childrens amusement park, weekend, two adults and one child. The date was precisely the day he had gone on his business trip last month.

That night, Lily had a fever again. I held her, sleepless through the night. In the early hours, I suddenly remembered something. From the day Lily was born until now, how many times had Eric taken her to a childrens amusement park? Not once. He said he was busy, no time. He said, later, when he had fewer cases. He said, theres always tomorrow.

It turned out his theres always tomorrow was all for someone else.

The truth came from Lilys preschool teacher. That day, I went to pick up Lily after school, and the teacher called me over.

Mrs. Peterson, theres something Id like to discuss with you.

What is it?

The teacher seemed a little hesitant.

Its just recently, a lady has been regularly coming to the preschool gate at dismissal time, saying shes Mr. Petersons friend, and wants to see Lily.

My heart tightened. What lady?

In her twenties, long hair, quite pretty, the teacher recalled. She said her name was Amelia Vance, and shes very close with Mr. Peterson. She also said

Said what else?

She also said she has a daughter about Lilys age, and she wanted Lily to meet her so they could play together sometime.

I stood there, my hands and feet growing cold.

I didnt let her see Lily, the teacher quickly added. Preschool policy states that only immediate family members can pick up children. I just felt it was a little strange, so I wanted to tell you.

I thanked the teacher and walked out with Lily. By the gate, I saw a white car parked by the roadside. The window was half-open, revealing a young womans face. Long hair, big eyes, exquisite makeup. She saw me, paused, then rolled up the window and drove away.

I stood there, watching the car disappear around the corner. Lily tugged at my hand.

Mommy, why arent we going?

I looked down at her. Lily, do you know that lady?

Lily shook her head.

I crouched down and hugged her.

Its good that you dont know her, I said. Its good that you dont know her.

That night, Eric came home early. When he walked in, I was in the kitchen cooking. He came over and hugged me from behind.

Why are you being so sweet today, cooking yourself?

I didnt move, continuing to chop vegetables.

Someone came to see Lily at preschool today, I said.

His hands paused.

She said she was your friend, last name Vance.

He let go of me, walked around to face me. I couldnt read the expression on his face.

You saw her?

Yes, I did.

He was silent for a few seconds.

She shes my clients sister. Ive met her a few times before. Maybe she was just passing by and wanted to see Lily.

A clients sister, why would she want to see my daughter?

His brows furrowed. Eleanor, what is that supposed to mean?

I put down the knife and looked up at him. Eric, is there anything youre hiding from me?

His eyes flickered. Just for an instant, but I saw it.

No, he said. What could I possibly hide from you?

I looked at him and suddenly felt very tired. Eight years. I thought I understood him, but I never did.

Good then, I said. Lets eat.

He stood there, as if wanting to say something more. But I had already turned and carried the dishes out of the kitchen.

Dinner was quiet. Lily sat in her high chair, eating with her spoon. Eric occasionally glanced at her, his gaze complex. After dinner, as I cleared the dishes, he went into his study to take a call. The door wasnt fully closed, and I could hear his voice.

I know, dont rush Ill handle it Wait for my call.

His voice was very low, but every word was clear. I stood in the kitchen, my hand on the sink, unmoving. The faucet was running, the sound of rushing water. My mind was also a blank.

After hanging up, he came out. Im going out for a bit. Something came up.

I didnt turn around. Okay.

He walked to the door, then stopped again.

Eleanor.

Hmm?

Lets talk when I get back.

The door closed. I continued washing dishes. I washed for a long time, until my fingers were wrinkled. He didnt come back that night.

At two in the morning, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. My phone lit up. A text message from an unknown number:

Eleanor, its Amelia. There are some things Id like to discuss with you. Can we meet?

I stared at the words for a long time. Then I replied:

Time and place.