Dad Only Loved Me After I Died

But when I turned around, I saw myself curled up on the floor, covered in injuries.

That was when I realized I was already dead.

I stared at my own body.

My pant leg had ridden up from the pain, and the injury underneath was horrifyingly clear.

Yet I didn’t feel scared at all.

Because neither Mom nor Dad wanted me.

Maybe death was the only way out.

At least they wouldn’t fight because of me anymore.

They could both go on living their own lives.

Before I could take a closer look at myself, a sudden force pulled me out of the room.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself watching Dad at the grocery store, picking out a rack of ribs.

After grabbing the ribs, he headed over to the produce section and picked up a few vegetables. Then he turned and noticed a corner store had just stocked a new batch of toy car models.

He hurried over and looked through them carefully before finally choosing two dark green models in different styles.

A smile tugged at his mouth.

“Henry’s going to love these.”

I stared at the toy cars with envy in my eyes.

Because ever since I could remember, I had never received another toy.

I still remembered one time when Mom took me grocery shopping. I saw a toy car model I loved and begged her to buy it for me.

She looked at me with disgust and told me to ask my dad for it.

But when I asked Dad, he slapped me across the face.

He said toy cars were expensive and that I was already wasting money at such a young age.

But now, he bought two for my little brother without even thinking twice.

He didn’t think they were expensive at all.

I pressed a hand to my chest.

A dense, aching pain spread from there, making it hard to breathe.

I followed Dad as he carried bags of groceries back to his home, looking happier than I had ever seen him.

The moment we walked in, I saw family photos everywhere.

In every picture, Dad was smiling with pure happiness as he held that little boy in his arms.

He placed the new toy cars somewhere Henry would see them the second he came in.

Beside them were all kinds of other toys.

I stared at those toys.

They were everything I had once dreamed of having.

Even though none of them belonged to me, seeing someone else actually own so many still made something tremble inside my chest.

Then my gaze shifted to the smiling little boy in the photos.

Without meaning to, I whispered, “You’re so lucky.”

Dad hummed as he busied himself in the kitchen.

Before long, the delicious smell of dinner filled the room, and he carried the dishes to the table one by one.

Once everything was ready, he made a call.

“Honey, bring Henry upstairs for dinner. It’s all ready.”

Soon, a woman walked in holding a little boy’s hand.

The second the boy saw Dad, he ran straight over.

Dad crouched down, and Henry kissed him on the cheek.

“Daddy’s cooking smells the best. I’m hungry!”

Dad picked him up and laughed.

“Good boy. What a sweet talker.”

I looked at the joy in Dad’s eyes.

I had never seen him look like that before.

But I was his son too.

When I lived with Mom, she beat me whenever she was angry, so I wanted to see Dad more than anything.

But every time I saw him, he only looked at me with disgust and said I was sick, disgusting, and a liar.

A father’s love was supposed to be strong.

It was supposed to make a child feel safe.

But even now that I was dead, I had never felt it once.

My eyes grew hot again.

I clenched my teeth and refused to let the tears fall.

The feeling in my chest was bitter and sharp.

The three of them sat at the dinner table, happiness written all over their faces.

After dinner, Henry Leedon noticed the new toy cars Dad had bought him.

He rushed over and tore open the packaging.

“Daddy, you bought me the new model cars again! They’re so cool!”

Dad walked over and rubbed his head.

“No matter what you like, I will find a way to get it for you.”

At that, Henry’s eyes lit up.

He looked up at Dad eagerly and said, “I remember Calvin once gave you a pouch. Can you give that to me too, Daddy?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

Because he knew exactly what was inside that pouch.