At first he stood stiffly, then hugged me back.
“I think Mom would approve,” I told him.
“I hope so,” he murmured.
Soon afterward, he began meeting wonderful women.
Before every date, he told me about them.
One worked in a library.
Another owned a neighborhood bakery.
A third spent weekends volunteering at an animal shelter.
Every time, he seemed genuinely hopeful.
Yet none of them ever stayed.
At first, I assumed they simply weren’t the right match.
Dating was complicated.
Two people could enjoy an evening together and still realize there was no future.
That was what I kept telling myself whenever another woman stopped replying.
Then I noticed something impossible to ignore.
Every relationship ended exactly the same way.
The date always went wonderfully.
Afterward, my father would call me and describe the restaurant, their conversation, and the little moments that made her laugh.
He never sounded proud.
