Three years ago, my father disowned me after I got pregnant and chose to marry Lucas, a carpenter he deemed unworthy. I moved in with Lucas, and despite struggles—unexpected triplets, financial strain, and tension—our life slowly improved. Lucas’ work gained recognition, and we finally found stability.
Then one day, my father called, offering one last chance to come back. When he arrived at our home, he was shocked to find we weren’t struggling. He insisted I could have more, but I refused, explaining that we had everything we needed. After a tense departure, my father remained in his car for hours, looking broken. Eventually, he returned, admitting he was wrong and apologizing for pushing me away. We reconciled, and for the first time in years, he met his grandchildren, who called him “Grandpa.”
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