My Dad Left Me When I Was 13 — Ten Years Later, I Saw Him on the Side of the Road Hitchhiking with a Little Girl

The man Mom and I loved to the core tore our hearts apart and abandoned us when I was 13. Ten years later, I pulled over for a hitchhiker, only to see my dad with a little girl by his side. The scars never faded. Will this new encounter heal them or deepen the wound?

The day my dad left, the world lost its color. I remember standing in our driveway, watching his car disappear around the corner. The rubber of his tires on the asphalt made a sound I’ll never forget, like hope being slowly crushed…

Silhouette of a sad girl | Source: Midjourney

Silhouette of a sad girl | Source: Midjourney

“Dad!” I screamed, running after him. “Dad, come back!”

But he didn’t. He just… left. No explanation, no goodbye. Just gone.

I turned to look at my mom, Crystal. She stood in the doorway, her face brimming with shock and disbelief. “Mom?” I whispered, my voice small and scared.

She blinked, seeming to remember I was there. “Oh, Ellie, come here, baby.”

Distressed mother hugging her daughter | Source: Midjourney

Distressed mother hugging her daughter | Source: Midjourney

I ran into her arms, burying my face in her shirt. It smelled like home, like safety. But even as she held me, I could feel her shaking.

“Why did he go, Mom?” I had asked, my words muffled against her. “Why did Dad leave us?”

She stroked my hair, her touch gentle but unsteady. “I don’t know, sweetie. I just don’t know.”

An upset girl with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney

An upset girl with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney

As we stood there, clinging to each other, I made a silent promise to be strong for her. I had to be.

“We’ll be okay, Mom,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. “We’ve got each other.”

She squeezed me tighter, and I felt a tear drop onto my head. “Yes, we do, Ellie. We always will.”

A desperate young girl crying | Source: Pixabay

A desperate young girl crying | Source: Pixabay

Ten years passed in a blur of struggle and slow healing. Mom and I became a team, facing the world together. We had our rough patches. Times when the absence of my dad felt like a physical ache.

But we made it through. We had each other. It was enough. And then, in an instant, everything changed.

I was driving home from work on a busy highway one evening, the setting sun painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

A woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash

A woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash

The radio played softly, some pop song about lost love that I barely registered. My mind was on dinner plans and the pile of laundry waiting for me at home.

That’s when I saw them.

A man and a little girl, standing on the side of the highway, thumbs out. Something about the man’s posture, the way he stood protectively next to the girl, made my heart skip a beat. I slowed down, squinting through the windshield.

No. It couldn’t be.

A man standing with a little girl on the roadside | Source: Midjourney

A man standing with a little girl on the roadside | Source: Midjourney

I pulled over, my hands shaking as I put the car in park.

In the rearview mirror, I watched them approach. The little girl skipped along, holding the man’s hand and chattering away. AND THE MAN…?

My blood ran cold. It was HIM… my DAD.

A shocked young woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

A shocked young woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

He looked older, of course. His hair was grayer, his face more lined and exhausted. But there was no mistaking those eyes, the same eyes I saw every time I looked in the mirror.

I got out of the car on unsteady legs, my mouth dry. “Need a ride?” I called out, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.

A startled young woman | Source: Midjourney

A startled young woman | Source: Midjourney

He turned, a grateful smile starting to form on his face. Then he saw me, and the smile vanished, replaced by shock and something that looked a lot like shame.

“Ellie?” he gasped, his eyes wide.

The little girl looked between us, confusion clear on her face. “Do you know her, Bill?” she asked.

Bill. Not Dad. Just… Bill. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I know her.”

A smiling girl looking up | Source: Pexels

A smiling girl looking up | Source: Pexels

The car ride was tense, filled with an awkward silence that seemed to suck all the air out of the vehicle.

I gripped the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I focused on the road ahead to avoid looking at the man in my passenger seat, the man who was supposed to be my father.

The man who had so easily abandoned his family. The man who had so heartlessly moved on, breaking our hearts while building a sand castle of his own.

The little girl hummed quietly in the backseat, oblivious to the emotional storm brewing in the front.

A young woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

A young woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Tell me that’s not my sister,” I said, breaking the silence.

My dad flinched as if I’d struck him with an axe. He stared straight ahead, his hands clasped tightly in his lap.

“Her name’s Sarah. She’s… she’s not your sister, Ellie. Not by blood.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. But that didn’t make it any easier for me.

“Then who is she?”

Portrait of a sad senior man | Source: Midjourney

Portrait of a sad senior man | Source: Midjourney

Dad sighed, his shoulders slumping as though he was carrying the whole world’s burden.

“She’s the daughter of someone I’ve been with for a few years,” he admitted. “Her mom… she left us a few months back. I’ve been doing my best to take care of Sarah. Moved here last month.”

The irony of his situation wasn’t lost on me. I let out a bitter laugh.

“Wow. So you know what it feels like now? To be left behind? To be abandoned by someone you love? Ever heard of the infamous saying, ‘What goes around comes around?!’”

A sad man's eyes | Source: Midjourney

A sad man’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

Dad’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. “I’ve made mistakes, Ellie. A lot of them. But I’m trying to make up for it, even if it’s too late for you and your mom.”

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. “Do you have any idea what you did to us? How hard it was for us? For me? Can you imagine how kids at school teased and bullied me? How Mom struggled alone to raise me and play both Dad and Mom for me?”

In the rearview mirror, I saw Sarah’s confused face. She didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of this. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

A woman sitting in a car turning to her side | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a car turning to her side | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry,” Dad whispered. “I know it doesn’t change anything, but I am so, so sorry.”

“Sorry? You don’t stab a person in the heart and say sorry!”

“Ellie, please forgive me… I’m sorry. Really.”

I didn’t respond. What could I say? Sorry won’t erase ten years of absence, of wondering why I wasn’t enough to make him stay. Sorry won’t magically bring back the happiness that was once stolen from Mom and me.

A teary-eyed woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

A teary-eyed woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

As we neared the address he’d given me, Sarah spoke up from the backseat. “Are you Bill’s friend?”

I met her eyes in the mirror, seeing the curiosity there. For a moment, I considered telling her the truth. But looking at her hopeful face, I couldn’t bring myself to shatter her little world.

“Something like that,” I said softly, forcing a smile. “A forgotten friend.”

I pulled up to the curb, my hands shaking. The silence that had haunted me during the ride now felt suffocating.

A car outside a house | Source: Midjourney

A car outside a house | Source: Midjourney

My dad unbuckled his seatbelt, his movements slow and hesitant. He turned to face me, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with regret.

“Thank you for the ride, Ellie. I… I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know how sorry I am. For everything.”

I stared straight ahead, unable to look at him. My throat felt tight, choked with all the words I wanted to say but couldn’t.

A distressed senior man | Source: Midjourney

A distressed senior man | Source: Midjourney

“Take care of her,” I finally whispered, nodding towards Sarah in the backseat. “Don’t screw this up like you did with us. It’s very easy to break someone’s heart and walk away. Don’t do that to her.”

He nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I will. I promise.”

As he got out of the car, Sarah leaned forward. “Thank you for the ride, Miss Ellie,” she said brightly. “It was nice to meet you!”

A young girl smiling | Source: Pexels

A young girl smiling | Source: Pexels

I turned to her, managing a small smile. “It was nice to meet you too, Sarah. Take care of yourself, okay?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “I will! Bye!”

I watched as they walked away, Sarah’s small hand in my dad’s larger one. They looked like a normal father and daughter, heading home after a long day.

But I knew the complicated truth that lay beneath that simple illusion.

Silhouette of a man and a little girl approaching their house | Source: Midjourney

Silhouette of a man and a little girl approaching their house | Source: Midjourney

As they disappeared from view, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. For years, I had carried the pain of my father’s abandonment, letting it shape my life and my relationships.

But seeing him now, I realized something important: I didn’t need his approval or his love to be whole.

I started the car, wiping away a stray tear. The sun had set completely now, the sky a deep, velvety blue. As I drove away, a warm, comforting feeling seeped into my heart. I had my own life to live, and I wasn’t going to let the past define me anymore.

A concerned young woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

A concerned young woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

My phone buzzed with a text from my mom, “Everything okay, honey? You’re usually home by now.”

I smiled, feeling a rush of love for the woman who had been both mother and father to me. “On my way, Mom,” I typed back. “I love you.”

As I hit send, I realized that sometimes, the family you choose is more important than the one you’re born into. And I had chosen well. I don’t need a father to shield or shower me with affection. I have the most powerful force in my universe: MY MOTHER.

A woman driving a car at night | Source: Unsplash

A woman driving a car at night | Source: Unsplash

Here’s another story: I plotted a delicious revenge my fiancé deserved for cheating on me with his ex in a spa resort.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My Relatives Thought They Had Robbed Our Rich Blind Grandfather, but He Turned Out to Be Much Smarter

When Ellie’s blind, dying grandfather gathers the greedy family to announce he’s donating his fortune to charity, tension explodes. The open safe tempts everyone, and as relatives enter the room one by one, Ellie suspects foul play. But when it’s her turn, Grandpa reveals a shocking truth.

At 19, I was the black sheep of a family that treated me like I was invisible. After Mom died, Dad married Sharon, who came complete with two daughters and had enough emotional baggage to sink a cruise ship.

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

The way they looked at me — like I was something they’d scraped off their shoes — made our spacious home feel smaller than a closet.

Their matching designer outfits and perfectly styled hair only emphasized how much I didn’t belong with my thrift store clothes and a messy ponytail.

“Ellie, dear,” Sharon would say, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, “wouldn’t you be more comfortable eating in the kitchen?”

A disapproving woman seated at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A disapproving woman seated at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

That was her way of saying I embarrassed her in front of her country club friends. Dad would just stare at his plate, suddenly fascinated by his roasted asparagus.

My cousins weren’t any better. All six of them treated family gatherings like networking events, schmoozing with anyone who might boost their social status.

I usually ended up in the kitchen, helping the staff clean up. At least they talked to me like I was human. Maria, our cook, always saved me a piece of her famous chocolate cake.

A decadent chocolate cake | Source: Pexels

A decadent chocolate cake | Source: Pexels

“Those people out there?” she’d say, sliding me an extra-large slice. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”

But Grandpa? He was different. He’d worked his way up from nothing to build the family fortune, but being wealthy never changed him. Grandpa was the salt of the earth, through and through.

He was the only one in the family who saw me for who I really was when everyone else looked right through me.

A young woman speaking to her grandfather | Source: Midjourney

A young woman speaking to her grandfather | Source: Midjourney

Grandpa taught me everything worth knowing, from how to plant the perfect rose garden to how to laugh when life kicks you in the teeth.

While the rest of the family was busy climbing their social ladders, Grandpa and I would sit on his wraparound porch, drinking lemonade and talking about everything and nothing.

“Remember, Ellie,” he’d say when I was having a rough day, “the best revenge is living well. And maybe a little practical joke now and then.”

A young woman sitting on a porch with her grandfather | Source: Midjourney

A young woman sitting on a porch with her grandfather | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t fully understand what he meant until that summer when everything changed.

Grandpa got sick, and his health deteriorated fast. His eyesight failed, and suddenly he was bedridden. The family descended like locusts, their concern was as fake as Sharon’s designer handbags.

I visited him every day, watching as he grew weaker, my heart breaking a little more each time. While the others whispered about his massive wall safe and what might be inside it, I just held his hand and read him his favorite books.

An open book | Source: Pexels

An open book | Source: Pexels

We worked our way through “The Count of Monte Cristo” at his request, which should have been my first clue about what was coming.

“Read that part again,” he’d say, “where Edmund discovers the treasure.”

Now I wonder if he was trying not to laugh.

Then came the day that changed everything.

A worried woman sitting at her grandfather's bedside | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman sitting at her grandfather’s bedside | Source: Midjourney

“Family meeting,” Grandpa announced via a voice message, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone come to my house. Now.”

The whole family rushed to Grandpa’s house, nearly trampling each other in their hurry to reach his bedside. I hung back, leaning against the wall near the door.

Then I noticed the safe in Grandpa’s bedroom was ajar. Grandpa never left the safe open. I glanced around the room, and my heart sank when I realized I wasn’t the only person who’d noticed.

A young woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

A young woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

All my relatives were eyeing the dark crack at the door with hungry eyes. Sharon’s daughters, Amber and Crystal, kept nudging each other and pointing at it when they thought no one was looking.

“I’m sad I can’t see any of you anymore,” Grandpa said. “I’d give anything to see your faces again, but it’s too late for that now. The doctor says I don’t have much time left. That’s why I called you all here today. I’ve been putting my affairs in order and I want you all to know that I’ve decided to donate all my money to charity.”

A man wearing dark glasses lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A man wearing dark glasses lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

The silence that followed was deafening. I could practically hear their dreams of inheriting millions shattering like cheap glass. My cousin Bradley actually gasped, then turned and stared at the safe.

Everyone else followed his gaze. It was like they were all thinking the same thing: if they took something, he’d never know.

“Now that’s out of the way, I’d like a chance to speak with each of you privately,” Grandpa continued, adjusting his dark glasses. “Who’s first?”

An elderly man wearing dark glasses speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

An elderly man wearing dark glasses speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

What happened next was like watching piranhas in a feeding frenzy. Everyone started talking at once, pushing and shoving, trying to be first in line.

“Enough!” My uncle declared loudly. “I’m the eldest son, and I will go first.”

The look in his eyes silenced everyone.

“Grandpa, wait!” I called out, trying to warn him, but Amber and Crystal shoved me into the hall.

An extremely worried young woman | Source: Midjourney

An extremely worried young woman | Source: Midjourney

I watched from the hallway as they went in one by one. Each came out looking smug, like cats who’d gotten into the cream.

My stomach churned. I knew exactly what was happening. The open safe was too tempting, and a blind old man would never know if they helped themselves, right?

I wasn’t allowed to see Grandpa until everyone else had their chance to “say goodbye.” I walked in and sat beside Grandpa’s bed, ignoring the safe completely. It was too late to prevent my relatives from plundering it now.

A young woman sitting at her grandfather's bedside | Source: Midjourney

A young woman sitting at her grandfather’s bedside | Source: Midjourney

“Grandpa,” I whispered, taking his hand. “I’m not ready for you to go.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks as memories flooded back. “Remember when you taught me to fish? I was so scared of hurting the worms, but you showed me how to bait the hook gently. Or all those summer nights on the porch, watching the stars come out? You taught me every constellation.”

“And you remembered them all,” he said softly. “Just like you remembered to water my roses every day while I’ve been stuck in this bed.”

An elderly man in bed speaking weakly | Source: Midjourney

An elderly man in bed speaking weakly | Source: Midjourney

He squeezed my hand. “You’ve always had a good heart, Ellie. And you’ve always been the one person I could trust.”

Then he did something that made my heart stop. He reached up and took off those dark glasses, revealing eyes that were sharp and clear — and looking right at me.

“You’re probably wondering how I saw all this coming,” he said, grinning like a kid with a secret.

“You… you can see?” I stammered, nearly falling out of my chair.

A shocked woman throwing her hands up in the air | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman throwing her hands up in the air | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, and I’ve seen everything,” Grandpa replied. “Every greedy glance, every hand sneaking into that safe. They didn’t think an old blind man could catch them, but I did.” Grandpa gestured to the safe. “Let’s see how much is left, Ellie.”

I walked to the safe, my legs wobbly, and opened the door wide. It was empty!

Grandpa laughed.

An elderly man in bed laughing | Source: Midjourney

An elderly man in bed laughing | Source: Midjourney

“I had 10 million dollars in fake bills in there,” Grandpa announced proudly. “And they took every last one. The real money is in a bank vault downtown. And it’s all yours, Ellie.”

I couldn’t speak. My throat felt like I’d swallowed sand.

“You’re the only one I trust to use it wisely,” he continued. “And if you want to leave this toxic mess of a family behind, don’t look back. Heaven knows I’ve wanted to shake their dust off my shoes for years.”

A smiling elderly man pointing at someone | Source: Midjourney

A smiling elderly man pointing at someone | Source: Midjourney

A few days later, Grandpa’s health suddenly started improving with a new treatment. The doctors were shocked, but I wasn’t. You can’t keep a good trickster down.

I bought two plane tickets to Bali the next day. First class because Grandpa insisted we start our new life in style.

The family exploded when they realized what had happened. Sharon threatened to sue. Dad finally found his voice, but only to demand his “fair share.” My cousins showed their true colors with a rainbow of creative curse words.

Two people arguing | Source: Pexels

Two people arguing | Source: Pexels

We left anyway, with nothing but our suitcases and the satisfaction of knowing justice had been served.

Now, I’m writing this from a beach chair in Bali, watching Grandpa teach local kids how to build the perfect sandcastle.

He’s got more energy than all of them combined, and his laugh carries across the sand like music. His recovery seems even more miraculous in the tropical sun.

An elderly man building a sandcastle with some children | Source: Midjourney

An elderly man building a sandcastle with some children | Source: Midjourney

“Pass me another coconut drink, would you, Ellie?” he calls out. “Planning the perfect revenge makes a man thirsty!”

I bring him his drink and sit beside him, watching the sunset paint the sky in colors I never saw back home.

“Was it worth it?” I ask. “All that planning, pretending to be blind?”

He takes a sip and grins. “Look around, kiddo. You’re smiling. You’re free. And those vultures back home are probably still arguing about fake money. I’d say that’s worth everything.”

A woman and her grandfather on the beach at sunset | Source: Midjourney

A woman and her grandfather on the beach at sunset | Source: Midjourney

I lean back and close my eyes, feeling the warm breeze on my face. For the first time, I know exactly what he means when he says living well is the best revenge.

And you know what? He was right about the practical jokes too.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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