My Daughter Cut Ties with Me After She Married a Rich Man – a Year Later, She Came Back Crying with a Baby

I learned how to braid hair from a magazine I found in the break room. I burned dinners. I forgot picture day at school.

Once, I sent her to school in two different shoes.

She still brings that up.

I tried. That’s all I could do.

When Gillian was 16, she had to write a paper about her “hero.”

She left it on the kitchen table.

I read it when she was at a friend’s house.

I sat there at that cheap table and cried like I was the kid and she was the parent.

She grew up smart. Tough.

A little stubborn.

She went to college, got a good job, moved to a nicer city.

She said she wanted a better life than mine. And I told her that was the whole point.

Then she met Evan.

Polished guy. Good job.

Good haircut. Family with money.

They shook my hand at the wedding. They smiled, but it never reached their eyes.

They looked at my janitor’s uniform like it was something contagious.

I noticed.

But Gillian looked happy. That was what mattered.

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