After losing my wife, I don’t get to see my daughter as often, but we speak every day. When my 80th birthday arrived, I wished for nothing more than to visit her. Excitedly, I drove to her house, eager to surprise her. When she opened the door, her expression was a mix of nervousness and surprise.
“Dad, what brings you here?” she asked, her voice trembling.
With a warm smile, I responded, “I just wanted to spend my birthday with you.”
However, her face fell, and she seemed hesitant before saying, “Dad, you can’t stay. I’m really busy. I’m sorry, but this isn’t a good time.”
Feeling unexpected hurt, I replied, “Alright, I’ll wait on the sofa until you’re free.”
But she was firm, almost pushing me out. “No, Dad, you need to leave now.”
As I turned to leave, a strange feeling nagged at me. Walking to my car, I heard noises from inside the house. Driven by curiosity and concern, I glanced through the living room window.
Inside were two strangers hurriedly moving about. My heart pounded with worry. What was happening? Why were there strangers in her home, and why was she acting so odd?
I quickly stepped away and called the police. Within minutes, officers arrived and carefully approached the house. After a tense standoff, they emerged, escorting the strangers out in handcuffs, with my daughter following close behind, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Dad, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, rushing to hug me. “Those men broke in just before you arrived. I didn’t know what to do, and I wanted to protect you.”
Relief washed over me as I held her close. “It’s alright, sweetheart. All that matters is you’re safe.”
The police took our statements and assured us the intruders would face justice. My daughter and I then settled on the sofa, the same one I had hoped to wait on earlier, and spent the rest of the day together. Despite the scare, it turned into the most memorable birthday I could have ever imagined. Knowing my daughter would go to such lengths to protect me deepened our bond and made our time together even more special.
