“If you go through with this, you’re no longer my daughter.” Those words echoed in my mind for three years—the last thing my father said to me before ending our relationship. I never thought I’d see him again, until his black car rolled into my driveway.
Three years ago, my life was simple. At 25, I was working as a junior architect and in love with Lucas, a kind carpenter. But when I found out I was pregnant, everything changed.
When I told my father I was pregnant and wanted to marry Lucas, his reaction was icy. “If you go through with this, you’re no longer my daughter,” he said. Despite explaining Lucas’ love and dedication, my father’s response was harsh—“Love doesn’t pay the bills.”
That night, I left my childhood home and moved in with Lucas. Life wasn’t easy, but we worked hard, and eventually, Lucas’ carpentry skills caught the eye of a local business owner. By the time our triplets turned two, we had a stable home, a car, and, most importantly, a family full of love.
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