Every woman my father dated seemed eager to see him again, then vanished before sunrise. When my best friend agreed to uncover the reason, one chilling message proved this was no coincidence.
My father lost my mother 12 years ago.
I was old enough to understand what death meant, but not old enough to understand what it could do to the person left behind.
My father changed after the funeral.
Before Mom died, he filled every room he entered.
He sang while making coffee.
He told terrible jokes at dinner and laughed before reaching the punch line.
He always had music playing in the house.
Afterward, the house became painfully quiet.
For a long time, he refused to date anyone.
Relatives encouraged him to meet someone new.
Friends invited him to dinners where a single woman always happened to be seated beside him.
He declined every offer.
Once, I suggested that Mom would not have wanted him to spend the rest of his life alone.
He looked at me with an expression I could not forget.
“I am not alone, Lola,” he said. “I have you.”
That answer broke my heart more than I let him see.
Then, almost overnight, everything changed.
He joined dating apps.
I first noticed when I visited him one Saturday afternoon.
He was sitting at the kitchen table with his phone in both hands.
His reading glasses rested low on his nose, and he was smiling at the screen.
My father had not smiled like that in years.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
He quickly locked the phone.
“Nothing.”
I raised an eyebrow.
He lasted less than ten seconds before confessing.
“I made a profile.”
“A dating profile?”
He nodded, suddenly looking embarrassed.
I hugged him before he could explain himself.
He stood stiffly at first, then wrapped his arms around me.
“I think Mom would approve,” I told him.
“I hope so,” he murmured.
Soon, he started meeting wonderful women.
He told me about them before every date.
One worked at a library.
Another owned a small bakery.
A third volunteered at an animal shelter on weekends.
He seemed hopeful each time.
But none of them ever stayed.
At first, I assumed they simply were not compatible.
Dating was complicated.
People could enjoy one evening together and still decide there was no future.
I told myself that every time one of the women stopped responding.
Then I noticed something strange.
Every relationship ended the exact same way.
The date would go perfectly.
My father would call me afterward and tell me about the restaurant, the conversation, and whatever small detail had made the woman laugh.
He never sounded arrogant.
He sounded relieved.
They would make plans to see each other again.
Then, by the next morning, the woman had disappeared.
No calls.
No texts.
No explanation.
The first time, my father assumed she had become busy.
The second time, he thought he had misunderstood her interest.
