My Father Bragged about Expensive Gifts He ‘Bought for Me’ but Doesn’t Even Pay Child Support – He Learned a Harsh Lesson

When Lexie’s mom surprises her with an expensive and meaningful graduation present, she is truly over the moon. Like any teenager, she takes to social media to talk about her gift and how grateful she is. But soon, Lexie’s absent father tries to claim that he bought her the elaborate gift. Soon, his lie begins to unravel punlicly…

My father was a ghost long before I even understood what it meant. He walked out on us when I was five, and I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard from him since. No birthdays, no calls, and not a dime of child support.

Nice, right?

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

But my mom? She’s been my everything. And it’s been the two of us against the world, and somehow, she has always made it work. And honestly, this woman has sacrificed so much to give me a shot at everything I’ve ever wanted to pursue. Out of all the things that I’ve wanted to try my hand at, music was my absolute love.

Music had always been my escape. Especially the piano. My mom had enrolled me in lessons when I was little, and from then on, I was just hooked. My dream was to compose my own music, but for me to do that I needed a professional-grade digital piano.

A little girl playing the piano | Source: Midjourney

A little girl playing the piano | Source: Midjourney

The problem?

Those things are expensive. Like proper, expensive.

And while mom and I weren’t living in poverty, we weren’t exactly rolling in cash, either. Being a single mom and a nurse, my mother went out of her way to ensure that I could keep playing. Recently she had started working extra shifts wherever possible, cutting corners where she could, just so that I could keep playing.

More than that, even though she came home exhausted, she never complained about the long hours or the money. My mom simply believed in me.

A smiling nurse | Source: Midjourney

A smiling nurse | Source: Midjourney

“Lexie,” she would say. “You’re just seventeen. And to have found something that you’re so passionate about at your age is amazing. Not to mention that you have real talent here, it’s not just a whim. You have a dream and you can get to it. I’ll do everything I can to help you achieve it.”

Fast forward to graduation.

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

I wasn’t expecting anything other than a cake, which was our tradition at the end of every school year. I knew how hard my mom worked just to keep everything going, and there was no way I’d want anything else from her.

“I’m serious, Mom,” I said one night over dinner. “I don’t want anything for graduation. I promise you, I understand the situation and I’m more than grateful for your support.”

“Oh, darling,” she said, giving me a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “I’m your mother, it’s my job.”

A bowl of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney

A bowl of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney

“I know, but I want you to know that I don’t expect anything,” I said.

We went to my graduation ceremony, and my mother bawled her eyes out when it was my turn to walk the stage.

“My darling girl,” my mother said after the ceremony as she enveloped me in a tight hug. “I am so proud of you!”

A teenager in her graduation gown and flowers | Source: Midjourney

A teenager in her graduation gown and flowers | Source: Midjourney

The real surprise came when I walked into our home that afternoon. There it was, my dream piano.

A high-end digital piano, complete with every feature that I needed to start composing. I couldn’t believe it. I actually cried.

It wasn’t about the piano itself, it was about how much my mother sacrificed for my dreams.

Naturally, I posted about it on social media because I was over the moon. I tagged my mom because she was the one who dreamed and inspired me. I wrote a long heartfelt caption about how she was truly the best mom in the world.

A keyboard with a pink bow | Source: Midjourney

A keyboard with a pink bow | Source: Midjourney

My post got tons of likes and comments, and honestly, I was just happy to share this moment with my mother. She deserved all the credit.

“Mom, I don’t know what to say,” I told her that evening as we sat outside on the porch together.

“Baby girl, I told you. I’m your mother, this is my job,” she said.

A mother and daughter duo sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney

A mother and daughter duo sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney

Then, a few days later, something weird happened.

I got a text from one of my dad’s old friends. He was someone I hadn’t heard from in years. He congratulated me on graduating and then casually mentioned how generous my dad was for buying me such an amazing gift.

My stomach dropped immediately.

“What?” I muttered.

A teenager holding her phone | Source: Midjourney

A teenager holding her phone | Source: Midjourney

At first, I thought that he must have been confused. But then I saw the post that made it all make sense.

My dad, the same man who hadn’t shown up for my graduation or acknowledged my existence in years, had re-posted my story on socials.

Onto his own page!

And of course, he captioned it like it was his moment. Like he had bought me the piano and had been the supportive dad all along.

A phone opened to social media | Source: Midjourney

A phone opened to social media | Source: Midjourney

So proud of little girl! I’ve always believed in your dreams. This is just the beginning!

I was shocked. The actual nerve of this man was insane.

I just stared at the screen in shock. This was a guy who hadn’t paid a cent in child support, who hadn’t called to check in. Even when I was twelve and I fell off a tree and had broken my arm? My mother had told him, but he didn’t bother to see me at the hospital or after.

“I just want him to sign my cast,” I remember telling my mother.

“I know, Lex,” my mother said, rubbing my arm. “But he doesn’t seem to care.”

A little girl with her arm in a cast | Source: Midjourney

A little girl with her arm in a cast | Source: Midjourney

So this? This was absurd.

“This man needs to pay child support,” I muttered.

But I didn’t know how to go about it. I didn’t want to embarrass him on socials because I couldn’t risk rocking the boat before those payments were settled.

Still, I was fuming inside, waiting for the day his lies would catch up to him.

A shocked girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked girl | Source: Midjourney

Turns out, karma was already in motion.

About two weeks later, my mom and I went to a community event. It was one of those things where everyone in town shows up because it was a charity event to raise funds for the community theater.

At one point, we were chatting with a group of people, when a random guy came forward to talk to us. He started talking to my mom like they were old friends, and then he turned to me.

A crowd of people | Source: Midjourney

A crowd of people | Source: Midjourney

“Lexie!” he said excitedly. “I’m Ralph, I work with your dad! That’s how I recognized you, he’s been posting photos of you recently. He’s very proud. And that piano he got you for graduation? Wow! That was a real show of support, huh? You’re a lucky young lady.”

I felt my mom tense next to me. She didn’t even blink.

“Oh, you must be terribly mistaken, Ralph. My ex-husband hasn’t paid child support in years. He had nothing to do with the piano or any part of his daughter’s life, really.”

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah, we’re looking at outstanding child support for about what, Mom? Thirteen years now?” I said.

The man’s face went from smug to confused.

“I’m sorry… what?” he said.

My mom didn’t let up though.

“The piano was a gift from me. I’ve been working extra hours to make sure that my daughter has everything she needs for her music career. Her father didn’t contribute at all.”

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

Poor Ralph just stood there, speechless.

It turns out that this man wasn’t just my dad’s coworker. He was my dad’s boss.

My dad had been spinning this tale for months, talking about how he was this amazing, supportive father who did everything for his daughter.

Well, not anymore.

A smiling man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney

The look on Ralph’s face told me everything that I needed to know: my father was done for. His lies had caught up with him.

Not long after, he was let go because Ralph said that he couldn’t trust him at all. He was also hit with years’ worth of payments he’d been dodging, and there was no escaping it.

The courts were involved now, and he had no choice but to pay up.

A close up of an angry man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of an angry man | Source: Midjourney

As for me?

I’ve been spending every spare minute on that piano, composing music that I know will make my mom proud. After all, she’s the one who’s always been there, the one who truly believed in me from day one. And soon, I’ll be going off to college to study music, too.

And my dad?

Well, he learned that pretending to be a parent is a lot harder than actually being one.

A teenager playing on a keyboard | Source: Midjourney

A teenager playing on a keyboard | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

My Father Skipped My Graduation to Take His Stepson to the Zoo – I Taught Him a Good Lesson

When Michael’s father misses his graduation to take his stepson, Tommy, to the zoo, Michael wants to teach him a lesson. After years of being sidelined, Michael finally retaliates. He plans a graduation dinner with the intention to expose his father, but then, things take a turn…

As I watched my classmates hug their families on graduation day, the absence of my father, Henry, cast a long shadow on what should have been one of the happiest days of my life.

A graduation cap and degree | Source: Pexels

A graduation cap and degree | Source: Pexels

Ever since my parents’ divorce when I was ten, Dad had built a new life with Sandra and her young son, Tommy.

It was good—I wanted my father to be happy. He deserved it. Because as much as he and Mom tried, they just weren’t compatible anymore. I needed them to be apart so that they could co-exist for me.

A divorce agreement | Source: Pexels

A divorce agreement | Source: Pexels

But then, when Dad and Sandra got together, he entered a new chapter—one that seemed to include everyone but me.

Initially, things weren’t so bad, but as my father grew closer to Tommy, he began to play a bigger role in his life. He consistently missed the milestones that marked my childhood journey—my science fair victories, my soccer finals, even several birthdays.

A father carrying his son | Source: Pexels

A father carrying his son | Source: Pexels

Each absence was attributed to something involving Tommy—a school play, a baseball game, or just a day out—leaving me to celebrate or commiserate without him.

I met with my father a week before the graduation—we were having lunch at a diner, something that he still tried to keep going, even when his life got busy.

A tray of burger and fries | Source: Pexels

A tray of burger and fries | Source: Pexels

“I’ll be at your graduation, Michael,” my father said. “I’ll wear a suit and tie and be there, in the front row with your mom. This is a big moment in your life and I love you. Of course, I’ll be there.”

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.

On Christmas Night, a Pregnant Woman About to Give Birth Knocked on Our Door – I Went Pale Upon Discovering Who She Really Was

It was a peaceful Christmas night until a desperate knock shattered the calm. A young, pregnant woman stood shivering in the snow. Her chilling words, “Let your husband explain,” turned my world upside down.

The house was peaceful that Christmas night. The smell of gingerbread lingered in the air, and the twinkling lights on the tree cast a warm glow in the living room.

A Christmas home | Source: Pexels

A Christmas home | Source: Pexels

Mark sat on the couch, engrossed in his new PlayStation game. The kids were upstairs, sound asleep after an exciting day of presents and treats. I stood in the kitchen, washing the last of the dinner plates.

For once, everything felt perfect.

Then came the knock at the door.

A decorated door | Source: Pexels

A decorated door | Source: Pexels

I froze, sponge in hand, and tilted my head toward the sound. Who could it be? It was nearly midnight, and the snow outside was coming down hard. My first thought was the neighbors, but why would they come so late?

“Mark?” I called, but he didn’t look up. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” he replied, eyes glued to the screen.

A man playing a game | Source: Pexels

A man playing a game | Source: Pexels

“There’s someone at the door.”

He shrugged, his fingers moving on the controller. “Probably a package. Just leave it.”

“On Christmas night?” I grabbed my coat from the hook near the door. “I’ll check.”

A woman looking to her side | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking to her side | Source: Midjourney

The icy wind hit me first, sharp and biting when I opened the door. Then I saw her — a young woman, shivering so hard she looked like she might collapse. Snow clung to her hair and coat, and her lips were nearly blue.

“Please,” she said, her voice trembling. “I… I need help. I’m about to give birth. Please, take me to a hospital.”

A young scared woman | Source: Midjourney

A young scared woman | Source: Midjourney

I stared at her, unsure what to do. “Are you alone? How did you get here?”

She winced and held her belly. “I got lost… I couldn’t make it to the hospital.”

“Who are you?” I asked, stepping aside so she could come out of the cold.

A concerned woman on her doorstep | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman on her doorstep | Source: Midjourney

She looked me in the eyes, her face pale and serious. “Let your husband explain. He thought he could get rid of me.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. My stomach tightened, but I didn’t have time to process them. “Come in,” I said quickly. “Sit down. You’re freezing.”

I led her to the couch and grabbed a blanket from the chair. “Stay here. I’ll get Mark.”

A woman sitting on her couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on her couch | Source: Midjourney

“Mark!” I called, my voice sharp now. “Come here. You need to see this.”

“Fine,” he muttered, setting down the controller and walking over. The moment his eyes landed on her, his face turned ghost-white.

“What… what are you doing here?” His voice cracked.

“I finally found you,” the woman said, her tone biting. “And you can’t just walk away this time.”

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

I looked between them, confusion growing in my chest. “Mark, who is this? Do you know her?”

Mark swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair. “Claire, I can explain—”

The woman cut him off. “Explain? Don’t you dare. You left me and my mom. You abandoned us, and now you’re here playing house like nothing ever happened.”

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “What is she talking about? Mark, who is she?”

Mark sighed, avoiding my gaze. “She’s… my daughter. From before we met.”

“Your what?” I took a step back, the words not sinking in.

The woman glared at him. “Yeah, your daughter. The one you left behind when I was six. The one you pretended didn’t exist.”

A woman arguing with her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman arguing with her husband | Source: Midjourney

“Stop,” Mark said, his voice rising. “I didn’t know you’d come here. I—”

“Of course you didn’t,” she snapped. “You’ve been ignoring me for years. But I wasn’t going to let you keep running.”

I turned to her. “And you came here because…?”

A frowning woman in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman in her living room | Source: Midjourney

“Because he deserves to face me,” she said through gritted teeth. “But also because I need help. I’m having this baby, whether he likes it or not.”

Mark dropped into the armchair, burying his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I thought… I thought I could move on.”

“Move on?” she shouted. “You mean forget about me. Forget about the mess you left behind.”

An upset bald man | Source: Freepik

An upset bald man | Source: Freepik

I shook my head, trying to catch up. “Why didn’t you tell me, Mark? Why didn’t you ever say you had a daughter?”

“I was ashamed,” he whispered. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

The woman’s voice softened, but her pain was clear. “You were ashamed? That’s why I grew up without a father?”

An upset woman on her couch | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman on her couch | Source: Midjourney

The weight of her words hung in the air. I stared at Mark, waiting for him to explain himself, but he just sat there, silent. The woman shifted on the couch, suddenly wincing in pain.

“We can deal with this later,” I said firmly. “Right now, she needs to get to the hospital.”

The woman locked eyes with me. “Are you going to help me? Or am I on my own again?”

An upset young woman looking up | Source: Midjourney

An upset young woman looking up | Source: Midjourney

I grabbed my coat and keys, glancing back at the young woman who was now hunched over on the couch, clutching her belly. She winced, letting out a low groan.

“We’re going to the hospital,” I said firmly, wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “I’ll drive you myself.”

Mark stood, his hands trembling. “Claire, let me come with you. I should—”

A nervous bald man | Source: Midjourney

A nervous bald man | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I interrupted, my voice sharp. “You need to stay here.” I stared at him, my anger bubbling beneath the surface. “You need to think about what you’ve done. You’ve hurt both of us, and right now, she’s the one who needs me.”

“Claire, I didn’t mean—”

“Not now, Mark!” I snapped, turning toward the woman. “Let’s go. We’ll figure this out later.”

A woman snapping at her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman snapping at her husband | Source: Midjourney

She nodded weakly, and I helped her to her feet. As we made our way to the car, the snow whipped around us, stinging my face. I opened the passenger door and helped her adjust the seat so she could lean back.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her breath fogging the air.

I climbed into the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel tightly. “You’re welcome,” I said, though my voice wavered. “You’re not alone in this.”

A determined woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A determined woman driving | Source: Midjourney

The roads were slick with ice, and the wind howled as I drove. My knuckles were white against the steering wheel, not just from the treacherous conditions but from the storm inside me.

“You okay back there?” I asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah,” she muttered, though her face told a different story.

A young woman in pain in the backseat of the car | Source: Midjourney

A young woman in pain in the backseat of the car | Source: Midjourney

The silence between us was heavy. My mind churned with questions and emotions I couldn’t untangle. How had Mark kept such a huge secret? How could he abandon his child? And now, here she was, carrying a baby into a world that had already let her down.

“I don’t even know your name,” I said, finally breaking the quiet.

She looked up, her face pale but determined. “Emma.”

A young woman in pain | Source: Midjourney

A young woman in pain | Source: Midjourney

“Emma,” I repeated softly. “I’m Claire.”

She nodded. “You’re… kind. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I knocked on your door.”

“Well, I’m still trying to wrap my head around all this,” I admitted. “But whatever happened with Mark, it’s not your fault. And I’m not going to hold it against you.”

A woman driving a car | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving a car | Source: Midjourney

Her lips quivered, and she looked away. “Thanks,” she whispered.

By the time we reached the hospital, Emma’s contractions had grown stronger. I waved down a nurse as soon as we entered the emergency room.

“She’s in labor,” I said quickly.

The nurse nodded, grabbing a wheelchair. “We’ll take her from here.”

A nurse looking at a chart | Source: Pexels

A nurse looking at a chart | Source: Pexels

I turned to Emma. “I’ll stay,” I promised. “You’re not doing this alone.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she gave a small nod.

The next hours were a blur. I stayed by Emma’s side, holding her hand as she gritted her teeth through each contraction. She squeezed so hard, I thought my fingers might break, but I didn’t let go.

A woman giving birth | Source: Freepik

A woman giving birth | Source: Freepik

“You’re doing great, Emma,” I said, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face. “Just a little longer.”

Her cries of pain filled the room, but she pushed through, determined. Finally, a piercing cry cut through the tension.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor announced, holding up a tiny, squirming bundle.

A woman and her newborn | Source: Pexels

A woman and her newborn | Source: Pexels

Emma sobbed, reaching out for her baby. I watched as the nurse placed him in her arms. His face was pink and wrinkled, his cries softening as Emma held him close.

When I got home, the house was quiet. Mark was sitting in the living room, staring at the darkened TV screen. He looked up as I walked in, his face full of guilt.

“How is she?” he asked softly.

A guilty looking man in his living room | Source: Midjourney

A guilty looking man in his living room | Source: Midjourney

“She had a baby boy,” I said, my voice flat. “She’s strong. Stronger than you.”

“Claire—”

“No,” I cut him off. “I need answers, Mark. How could you keep something like this from me? From us?”

A couple having a serious talk | Source: Midjourney

A couple having a serious talk | Source: Midjourney

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was young, and I made mistakes. I didn’t know how to face them. And when we started our life together, I thought… I thought I could leave it behind.”

“But you didn’t leave it behind,” I said sharply. “You left her behind. And now she’s here, with your grandson. You have to fix this, Mark. You owe her that much.”

A serious talk | Source: Midjourney

A serious talk | Source: Midjourney

He nodded with tears in his eyes. “I will. I promise.”

“You’d better,” I said, heading upstairs. “Because she deserves better and I believe you.”

As I lay in bed that night, I thought about Emma and the baby. Life had changed in a way I never saw coming, but for the first time, I felt a glimmer of hope.

A smiling hopeful woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling hopeful woman | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes, the hardest truths bring the biggest chances for growth. And I was ready to embrace them.

Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: A family summer visit turned chaotic when Lisa’s once-polite stepson, Jake, transformed into a rebellious teen, creating turmoil in their household. The final straw came when Lisa discovered money missing from her wallet, pushing her to take drastic action.

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.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*