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
“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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
“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
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
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
“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
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
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
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
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.
The Hidden Meaning Behind the ‘WC’ Sign on Bathroom Doors
The Meaning Behind the ‘WC’ Sign: A Journey Through Bathroom Terminology
Have you ever noticed the letters WC outside a public restroom and wondered what they stand for? You’re not alone—people across the globe often puzzle over this cryptic abbreviation.
The Mystery of WC
Simply put, WC stands for water closet, a term historically used to describe a small room containing a toilet and sometimes a sink. While this might clarify the letters, it doesn’t exactly make the term feel more logical—similar to how “restroom,” “bathroom,” or “loo” can seem perplexing in their own right.
In 2020, a TikTok video featuring a couple named Shelby and Dylan hilariously highlighted the differences in bathroom terminology between Americans and Canadians. Walking past a sign reading washroom, Dylan quipped:
“What in the world is a washroom? And what are they washing in there? Oh, it’s a restroom. The only thing I wash in there is my hands.”
Shelby, off-camera, cheekily countered, “Do you rest in a restroom?”—to which Dylan admitted: “Good point. They both don’t make much sense.”
The video sparked a lively online debate about what to call the sacred space. Some commenters preferred “bathroom,” while others leaned toward “toilet,” “washroom,” or “restroom.”
One person humorously recounted a Disneyland visit where asking for the washroom led them to the laundromat. Another chimed in with, “Wait until he finds out about water closets.”
What Is a Water Closet?
According to Merriam-Webster, a water closet refers to “a compartment or room with a toilet” or “a toilet bowl and its accessories.”
Historically, the term reflects a time when specific rooms served distinct purposes. Bathrooms were for bathing, restrooms for resting or grooming, and the water closet for, well, using the toilet. As indoor plumbing became more common in the late 19th century, these spaces gradually merged into the modern bathroom we know today.
The water closet, however, often remained a separate, enclosed room in some homes and public spaces, particularly in Europe and international facilities. You’ll frequently spot the abbreviation WC in airports, hotels, or restaurants, catering to a globally diverse audience.
WC Across Cultures
Online forums like Reddit often dive into the quirks of global bathroom terminology. One post posed the question, Why is a public WC called a bathroom if there’s no bath?
A user responded:
“Americans might ask, ‘Why is it called a WC if it isn’t even a closet?’”
Others shared cultural takes:
- In Russian, it’s referred to as a room without windows, even if there’s a window.
- In Esperanto, it’s necesejo, meaning “necessary place.”
- Canadians frequently use washroom, which is also popular in parts of the U.S. Midwest.
Restroom vs. Bathroom vs. Washroom
The terminology debate continues, with many feeling washroom is the most logical since washing happens there. Meanwhile, terms like restroom or bathroom remain euphemisms.
One Redditor summed it up best:
“Best one, I think. You should be washing in there—not resting.”
What Do You Call It?
Whether you say WC, restroom, bathroom, toilet, or washroom, everyone has a favorite term. What’s yours? Share your thoughts, and don’t forget to spread this story to find out what others think!
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