Jessica Patrick Faithu

My husband is a great father, as everyone agrees. But he has a poor memory and always forgets his promises to our daughter.👧🏻 “I have to go, Elena.” He grabbed his coat from the hanger. “Emma has an emergency.” This is his 52nd time breaking a promise this year. 💃🏻Tonight is the annual Father-Daughter Dance. They arranged to go together two months ago. I thought it would be different, but I was wrong.❌ He has no idea what his eight-year-old daughter is planning.💔 😞Every time Richard broke his promises to her, she would write them down in a secret box. Today will be the last one.👋🏻 ---------- Card #7: Dad missed my birthday party. Card #19: Dad forgot Family Day at school. Card #31: Dad left before my recital. Card #50: Dad promised he would be there tonight. My daughter Sophia had a ritual. Every time Richard broke a promise to her, she wrote it down on a card and slipped it into a walnut box she kept on her desk. That box held an entire year of disappointment. Tonight was supposed to be different. Tonight was the annual Father-Daughter Dance. Eight-year-old Sophia had picked out her pale green dress almost two months ago. Just ten minutes earlier, Richard had been kneeling in our living room, fastening a white corsage around her wrist and telling her she was the prettiest girl who would be there. Now he stood by the front door staring at his phone, his jaw tight. "Richard?" I stepped out of the kitchen with my car keys in hand, and my stomach dropped instantly. I knew that look. "I need to go, Elena." He grabbed his coat from the rack without meeting my eyes. "Emma has an emergency." "What are you talking about?" I crossed the room and caught his arm. "The dance starts in twenty minutes. Sophia has been waiting for this night for two months." "Emma is having a complete breakdown backstage at her pageant." He pulled away from me. "She can barely breathe." The desperation in his voice stopped me cold. I had never seen him look that frightened for anyone. "She's terrified. She needs me. I have to go." His hand closed around the doorknob. He never even looked toward the staircase where Sophia was standing. "She can stay home with you and watch a movie. I'll buy her something tomorrow." The door slammed shut. Silence filled the house. I turned toward Sophia. She was clutching her silver cardigan so tightly her knuckles had turned white. That night, I took her to the school gym anyway. I thought showing up would be better than staying home. I was wrong. It was a disaster. When the music started, girls stood on their fathers' shoes and spun beneath strings of colorful lights. Sophia stood alone at the edge of the dance floor. The folding chair beside her remained empty all night. Eventually, Principal Harrison, a white-haired gentleman in his seventies, walked over and asked her to dance. He gave her the first dance her father should have given her. But that wasn't the worst part. When the song ended and Sophia returned to her seat, one of her classmates walked by holding her father's hand. Seven-year-old Chloe tilted her head innocently. "Why didn't your daddy come tonight?" Sophia didn't answer. She just stared at her silver shoes. On the drive home, the only sound came from the heater humming through the vents. At a red light, I glanced into the rearview mirror. Sophia opened her backpack and took out the walnut box. Then she wrote another card. Card #51: Dad left me at the dance. She folded it neatly and dropped it inside. #Goodnovel#EmotionalStory #romancebook#Melodrama #Dreame#UrbanRomance #BrokenMarriage #PowerfulWoman #FromWeaktoPowerful 📚Only a limited number of chapters can be displayed here. Tap “Start Reading” to continue the story on the next page.👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻