My Father Started Blaming Himself
After several failed relationships, my father stopped believing the problem was bad luck.
Maybe he was too old.
Maybe he talked too much about Mom.
Maybe he was boring.
Maybe women didn’t want to date a widower.
One evening, he sat at the kitchen table with his phone in his hand.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered.
I sat beside him.
“Maybe they just weren’t right for you.”
“They all seemed happy.”
“People change their minds.”
“All of them?”
I didn’t have an answer.
The next morning, another woman disappeared.
That was number six.
And that was when something inside me changed.
Six women could reject my father.
Six women could decide they weren’t interested.
But six women disappearing immediately after promising another date felt different.
It felt deliberate.
I asked Dad whether anything unusual had happened during his dates.
He looked offended.
“What are you asking me?”
“I’m trying to understand.”
“Did I say something inappropriate?”
“I don’t know.”
He stared at the floor.
“I treated every one of them with respect.”
I believed him.
But I still needed answers.
So I called my best friend, Rachel.
I Asked My Best Friend to Go on a Date With Him
Rachel and I had been friends for years.
She knew my father well enough to recognize his personality, but she wasn’t close enough to him to be emotionally involved.
I made an unusual request.
“I need you to go on a date with my father.”
There was a long silence.
