Woman Told Her Daughter Her Father Had Died – Years Later, the Girl Discovered a Heartbreaking Truth

Woman Told Her Daughter Her Father Had Died – Years Later, the Girl Discovered a Heartbreaking Truth

When Cassie returns from a getaway with her husband and son, she walks into her home to see a cryptic message from her mother — telling her to watch a video. As Cassie presses play, her entire life changes. In the end, she’s left wondering which of her parents are worthy of forgiveness.

In my eyes, my father could do no wrong. He was everything I needed him to be and more. He was a businessman who was always traveling, but he ensured that he made enough time for me.

“You’re my little girl, Cassie,” he would say, bopping my nose with his index finger. “You’re the most special.”

My parents always went out of their way for me — ensuring that despite their busy schedules, we would have family dinner almost every night.

It was the one thing that kept me grounded while both of my friends from school were in the middle of their parents’ messy divorces.

“I think it’s trendy now,” I told my mother as she cut slices of banana bread for me after school one day.

“Cas, you cannot think that divorce is trendy,” she laughed. “It’s devastating and traumatic, and very few families actually keep things civil.”

“I’m just saying that it’s trendy because a lot of kids live between two homes,” I explained to her. “It’s one of those things we were talking about in class today.”

I was fourteen, and the world seemed more dramatic than it should have been.

But what I didn’t know was that my words seemed to be an incantation that settled over our home.

A few weeks after that conversation, my father went away on a business trip. A few hours after he had been gone, there was news of his passing.

“How?” I asked. “How did he die?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Cassie,” she replied. “I’m just saying what the paramedics told me.”

“So what will we do next?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled by the question.

“For the funeral?” I asked. “Aren’t we going to have one?”

“I don’t think so,” my mother replied. “Dad wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread at the beach. Let’s do that instead.”

I couldn’t fathom why my mother would want to do that — but at the end of the day, she knew my father best. And the longer I thought about it, the more beautiful and sentimental a private ceremony at the beach felt.

“Don’t be difficult, Cassie,” my mother said when she saw me thinking about my next move.

“I’m not,” I said. “Really. I was just thinking about it. It’s a great idea, Mom.”

I could have fought her for a send-off that I thought would have been more appropriate. But what use would it have been? At the end of the day, we had both lost him.

The months following the beach ceremony felt weighted, and I knew that I was becoming deeply depressed — my father had been our world. And his absence was felt more than anything.

But, with time, I learned to live with it.

Last week, I decided to book a cabin in the woods for a little family vacation. My son was adamant that camping was the new best thing, and I knew that despite the wonders of nature, I wasn’t going to camp in a tent without a bathroom in sight.

Instead, I thought that a cabin would be the best option — my husband, Derek, could camp outside with Drew, our son, if he insisted on it.

We had a dog, therefore, I asked my mother to house-sit for the week so that we could be at peace, knowing that Romeo was taken care of.

A week away was more than enough to restore my mind — and eventually, when we went back home, I was surprised to see that my mother wasn’t there. In fact, it looked like she had never been there.

But there, on the coffee table, was a note beneath the TV remote.

Watch this, Cassie. I’m sorry. — Mom

I didn’t know what was in store for me, but while Derek got Drew into the bath, I put the TV on and began to watch whatever my mother had planned.

The TV flickered to life, and there he was, my father, his voice a long-lost melody, his image aged but still, unmistakably him.

Tears streamed down my face as the realization that he was still alive enveloped me in a mix of joy and disbelief.

The video message was nothing short of unpredictable.

My dear Cassie, I’m still here, alive. I’m so sorry for the pain that you must have felt from my loss. But it was needed. I needed to be removed from your life because of the sordid truth of my past. Your mother knows everything, please ask her for the truth.

My health is on a steady decline, and I would love to see you and explain it all.

Love you, Dad.

Without telling Derek or Drew anything, I grabbed the car keys and ran out. I needed my mother to explain.

“So, I bet you’ve got questions for me,” she said, opening the door.

“Explain it all,” I said.

“Cassie, it’s heavy. You look tired from your trip; are you sure you want to do this now?” she asked.

I nodded. It was now or never. I needed to know why my father faked his own death to get out of our lives.

My mother made us some tea and took out some shortbread.

“Darling,” she said. “I’ll understand if you don’t forgive me, but there’s so much about that time that I need to tell you.”

I sipped my tea, trying to figure out what my mother was about to tell me.

“I remember that you were telling me about your friend’s parents getting divorced. Do you remember that?” she asked.

I nodded. Of course, I did. It was the strangest thing, but it was so common when I was in school.

“Well, your father and I were not legally married. So when I told him about our conversation regarding divorce, he was actually relieved. Without being married, there would be no divorce.”

“What’s the big deal?” I asked.

“Then I found out that the real reason that we didn’t get married was because your father was already married to another woman.”

“What?” I exclaimed, almost dropping my cup. “To who?”

“To a woman in the town where he always had his business trips.”

“You didn’t know?” I asked, unable to believe her words.

“Of course not!” she exclaimed. “But when I pressed him about it, he decided to choose that family over us. So, I told him that the story was going to be his death.”

We were both silent for a moment.

Turns out that my mother told him that she would never tell me the truth, not when he was my favorite person. She couldn’t burst my bubble in that way. And she refused to let him see me one more time.

“It was better for you to think that it was an accident,” my mother said. “It just made more sense.”

Now, I understood why we didn’t have a funeral for him.

“What did we throw into the sea, then?” I asked.

“Dust,” she replied with a straight face.

My mother had spoken to him twice over the years. The second time being a day ago.

During their meeting, my father confessed his imminent death due to illness and requested that she give me the recording. My mother, torn by guilt and love, chose to write me the note and have the recording all set for me to watch.

“I would have taken the secret to my grave,” she said. “But knowing that he was ill and wanted to see you just struck something in me.”

Compelled by a need to confront the reality of my father’s existence, I traveled to the state where he lived with his other family.

I spent a few weeks with my father — going in and out of hospitals, watching him take an array of different medication, and growing weaker by the day.

Sitting at his bedside, I listened to his stories, the regrets, the moments of joy, and the love he had for all his children — myself included.

When things started to go downhill, I asked Derek to fly over with Drew. It was going to be a fleeting moment, but at least I’d know that my son had met my father.

A few days later, my father died.

Even now, I don’t know if I’ve forgiven him for the lie of having a double life. I just know that when it came to it in the end — I wanted to spend time with him. I had shoved my feelings aside, hoping for memories that I could figure out later.

But now that the dust has settled, I’m trying to figure out if I should forgive my mother for lying.

What would you do?

Here’s another story for you | After Celine’s father dies, she is left with having to navigate the weight of her grief. Everywhere she turns, there are pieces of her father. On her many trips to the cemetery, she finds that there are always fresh flowers left.\

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 Husband Invited His Mistress Home for His Birthday Party – I Was Furious and Got the Ultimate Revenge

When Gwen finds strands of red hair in her bed, and red lipstick stains on her husband’s work shirts, she immediately thinks that Ryan is cheating. Then, at his birthday dinner, everything gets revealed when Ryan brings a redhead to the party. Not wanting to let it slide, Gwen works on getting her revenge.

“Gwen, why do you look so stressed?” my friend Jessica asked, her voice laced with concern.

A stressed woman with her hand on her face | Source: Unsplash

We were at the grocery store, getting the final things I needed for the recipes I had been poring over. My husband’s birthday was tomorrow and we had a dinner planned at home.

I sighed, thinking of the small Ziploc bag in my handbag.

A woman opening her handbag | Source: Pexels

“I found this while making the bed,” I said to Jess. “Obviously, it’s not mine, and it sure as hell isn’t Ryan’s.”

I pulled out the bag. Inside was a long strand of bright red hair that I’d found in our bed.

Jessica’s eyes widened as she took the bag from me.

A woman with red hair | Source: Pexels

“Are you serious? That’s pretty damning. What did Ryan say about it? Is it not the nanny’s?” she asked.

“No, not Michelle. She has a pixie cut now because she’s going through a breakup. I haven’t confronted Ryan yet. I actually thought that it might be a fluke,” I admitted. “But then I remembered something else.”

A woman with short hair | Source: Unsplash

“What?” she asked, waving the bag around.

“The other day, I found red lipstick on the collar of his shirt. I was so tired that I didn’t even think about it. I just washed it out and carried on with the laundry. But after finding the hair, it’s all I can think about.”

Jessica’s face hardened.

A woman wearing red lipstick | Source: Pexels

“Gwen, you don’t even wear lipstick. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

I nodded slowly. There was no point in trying to lie to myself anymore.

“I think he’s cheating on me. Other than the hair and lipstick, Ryan has been staying late at work recently, and it all just adds up to one ugly puzzle,” I said.

The silhouette of a couple | Source: Midjourney

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked, picking up the red onions that I needed.

“Nothing for the moment. I know you’ll disagree, but Ryan’s birthday dinner is tomorrow and I don’t want to ruin it in case I’m wrong.”

A birthday cake | Source: Pexels

I knew that I wasn’t wrong. I knew what I felt in my gut, and that was because everything just felt wrong when I thought about my marriage.

Recently, Ryan and I hadn’t been as intimate as before. We didn’t do as many date nights or anything spontaneous. I figured that it was just life being life, and that we had gotten busy with our jobs.

We argued over everything.

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

“We’re just in a rut,” I told myself when I was sweeping the house and thinking about it one day.

“Look,” Jess said. “I understand that you need to reevaluate it and look at everything, but you also need to know that you can’t let it go on indefinitely. You have two kids to worry about. So, think about them, too.”

A woman sweeping the floor | Source: Pexels

The next day, as I finished up the final touches on the platters of food, my nerves were on edge. The guests started arriving for the party, and Ryan got more excited every time the doorbell rang.

“This is going to be so great, honey!” he said, walking around the house, making sure that everyone had a drink.

People holding glasses of wine | Source: Unsplash

“Just call me if you need me,” I said. “I’m just going to get the canapés out.”

My husband smiled at me and nodded as he walked out.

I plastered a smile on my face, greeting everyone and giving them bites to eat.

A platter of canapés | Source: Midjourney

Then, Ryan walked in with her.

“Honey, this is Stacy,” Ryan said, gesturing to the red-haired woman beside him. His hand was around her waist, and she batted her eyelashes at him.

Stacy smiled brightly.

A woman with red hair and red lipstick | Source: Unsplash

“Hi, Gwen!” she said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

I forced a smile. Inside, I was seething. The resemblance to the hair and lipstick was unmistakable.

“Nice to meet you, Stacy,” I said, trying to keep my face expressionless. “Make yourself at home.”

An expressionless woman | Source: Pexels

Throughout the party, I kept up the charade, mingling with guests and keeping a close eye on Stacy and my husband.

Jessica caught my eye across the room and raised an eyebrow in question.

I nodded slightly, confirming her suspicions.

People mingling | Source: Pexels

Later, when Ryan was outside with the smokers, I approached Stacy.

“So, how do you like working with Ryan?” I asked.

Stacy beamed, her eyes lighting up.

“Oh, it’s great! He’s been such a help. And being the assistant to our boss, I get to spend a lot of time with him. I’m new to the whole thing; Jeff hired me on the fact that I needed to spend time away from the kids.”

A woman sitting at a desk | Source: Unsplash

I nearly choked on my drink.

“Wait, you’re Mr. Anderson’s assistant? And his wife?”

“Yes! It’s a small world, isn’t it?”

I smiled tightly.

A married couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

“Very small,” I said. “Please, come on and take a seat; dinner will be served now.”

I served dinner methodically, with Jessica hot on my heels. I knew that she wanted to know everything.

“Not now,” I said, giving her a platter of chicken wings. “Later, I promise.”

A platter of chicken wings | Source: Midjourney

The rest of the evening went off smoothly, except for the fact that Ryan and Stacy were openly flirting in front of us all.

The next morning, I went out to the hardware store and bought hidden cameras that I installed in our bedroom.

A hardware store | Source: Unsplash

During dinner, I lied to him.

“Ryan, I’m going to support Jess. Charles just left her, and she needs me there,” I lied. “I’ll be gone for a day or two. I’ll take the kids, too.”

Two young boys with skateboards | Source: Pexels

Ryan nodded absentmindedly, not even thinking about the fact that Jess and Charles were with us the previous night and were fine.

“Sure, take your time, honey,” he said, drinking his coffee.

A man holding a mug | Source: Unsplash

I took the kids to Jess’s, where we were going to spend the weekend.

“Two days without you and the kids,” Jess said, making me some tea. “Ryan will definitely do something wrong.”

“I know,” I agreed. “He wouldn’t be able to resist anything.”

A woman holding a teabag | Source: Pexels

When I returned, the first thing I did was review the footage. And my worst fears were confirmed, right there, on tape.

I contacted a lawyer and set up a meeting with Stacy’s husband.

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

“Mr. Anderson,” I said on the phone. “It’s Gwen, Ryan’s wife. I need to meet you urgently. In private.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, his confusion clear.

“I’d rather we discuss it in person,” I replied.

A woman using a laptop and holding a phone | Source: Pexels

“I’ll meet you in an hour,” he said.

I took my laptop to the coffee shop that we had agreed to meet at.

He was already seated, two coffees on the table and waiting.

A cup of coffee on a table | Source: Pexels

“Are you okay? Is Ryan okay? He’s one of my best employees,” he said.

“Let me show you something,” I said.

I played the footage of Ryan and Stacy together.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice strained. “Thank you for telling me.”

A shocked man covering his mouth | Source: Pexels

When I got home, I made dinner for my sons and waited for Ryan to come home. The moment he walked in, I confronted him with the divorce papers.

“Gwen, what’s this?” he asked, bewildered.

“I know about you and Stacy,” I said coldly. “I have proof.”

Ryan fell to his knees in the kitchen.

Divorce paperwork | Source: Pexels

“Please, Gwen, don’t tell Mr. Anderson. Don’t leave me. I’m sorry.”

“You brought another woman into our bed. I deserve better. So much better.”

In the end, Ryan lost everything in the divorce. He was fired from his job and found it difficult to find another job.

A man holding his head | Source: Pexels

“Please, take me back,” he said on the phone one evening when I was dishing out ice cream for the boys.

“I don’t want to,” I said. “I’m just done having anything to do with you.”

“I deserve a second chance,” he said. “The boys need their father.”

I left the phone on the kitchen counter and let Ryan vent away.

I didn’t care anymore.

Bowls of ice cream on a counter | Source: Midjourney