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

“Dad,” she whispered. “I need you now.”

Something in my chest snapped.

I’d been waiting for that moment for 12 long months.

Twelve months since she’d called to say, “I’m pregnant.” Twelve months of no visits, no pictures, no update. Twelve months of lying awake wondering if my own kid was ashamed of me.

“Come in, sweetheart,” I said.

My voice cracked, but I didn’t care.

She stepped inside.

The place suddenly felt smaller, like it was holding its breath too.

Gillian set the baby carrier gently on the living room floor.

I knelt down.

Inside was a tiny baby girl in a pink dress, fists tucked under her chin, dark hair sticking up in soft wisps.

She was asleep.

Mouth open just a little.

My late wife’s name.

The air left my lungs.

“That’s… that’s a beautiful name,” I said.

I reached out, then stopped halfway.

After almost a year of being kept at arm’s length, I didn’t know if I had the right.

Gillian noticed.

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