The first time Lily said it, I laughed it off, the way parents sometimes do when children say something unexpectedly strange. We were driving home from daycare when she asked, “Daddy, can we invite my real dad to dinner on Father’s Day?” My hands tightened around the steering wheel, but I calmly asked what she meant.
Lily swung her legs happily and explained that a man sometimes visited while I was at work. He brought her chocolate, talked with Mommy, and stayed while dinner was being prepared. Then she said something that made my stomach drop: “He told me he’s my real daddy.”
I tried to convince myself it was simply a child’s misunderstanding or an innocent imagination. But Lily sounded certain, and her words followed me through a restless night. By morning, I knew I needed answers. I didn’t want to frighten my daughter or accuse my wife without
