Daughter Called Another Man “Dad”,So I Left

Penelope's voice was thick with indignation. "She kept insisting you made those honey buns, but you didn't! Uncle Patrick made them. She's blaming you for nothing!"

"No, I'm not! I'm not blaming Daddy! Daddy made them, not Uncle Patrick—"

Hilary's wailing burst through the phone.

"Shut up! You're lying about Daddy! I'm gonna hit you—"

"Ahhhhh!"

Hilary's screams followed almost immediately.

Clearly, Penelope was dispensing sisterly justice.

Wilfred didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Sure, Penelope was born half an hour after her twin, but in terms of maturity, intelligence, and sheer combat ability, she completely outclassed Hilary.

Since Penelope hadn't been bullied, he could relax.

"Ms. Perry—"

"Mr. Dickerson, please figure something out! I really can't handle this much longer!"

The teacher's exasperated voice came back on the line.

"Alright, I'll make some calls. Someone will be there shortly." Wilfred hung up and dialed Marjorie, the family's housekeeper.

"Marjorie, I just got a call from the preschool. Ms. Perry says the honey buns Hilary brought were a huge hit with the kids. She's hoping you could send some more."

"What honey buns?"

Marjorie was completely lost.

"The ones Hilary took to school this morning! Could you have someone deliver more? They're waiting."

"Oh, oh, of course. I'll take care of it."

After hanging up, Marjorie immediately thought of Patrick Lyons.

Ms. Pruitt definitely wouldn't have prepared honey buns for the girls, and Mr. Dickerson hadn't either. That left Mr. Lyons.

That man. Didn't he know the preschool had a strict no-outside-food policy?

Always stirring up trouble!

She dialed Patrick's number.

"Mr. Lyons? This is Marjorie, the Pruitt family's housekeeper."

"What is it?" His voice was flat, disinterested.

"Well, this morning Miss Hilary brought some honey buns to school, and her teacher just called to say they were a hit with the children. She was hoping you could send more."

"Really!"

Patrick's heart leapt.

He had made those honey buns—a calculated move to win Hilary's affection. He hadn't expected such spectacular results.

Not only did Hilary like them, but all the other kids did too.

He could picture it now: Hilary handing out the treats, surrounded by adoring classmates showering her with praise.

She must be thrilled.

And once she was happy, a few well-placed words to Hildegarde, and his marriage prospects would finally gain traction.

"Got it. I'll buy more and deliver them myself."

Back on Wilfred's end.

After hanging up, a cold smile curved his lips.

He wasn't taking the fall for this.

If Patrick was so eager to play stepfather, let him clean up his own mess.

Knock knock knock...

Someone tapped lightly on the car window.

Wilfred turned, startled. A blonde woman in sunglasses stood outside.

He lowered the window.

"Hi, can I help you?"

She looked familiar, but he couldn't place her.

"Hey, Mr. Dickerson. Don't recognize me?"

Margery Finch tilted her head with a slight smile.

"You're..."

Still nothing.

A flicker of disappointment crossed her eyes, though her expression remained composed. "Sorry, I should introduce myself. I'm Margery Finch."

Margery Finch. Seabrook Horizon Law Group's top litigator.

It clicked.

No wonder she looked familiar.

Horizon Law Group was the largest firm in Seabrook, and Margery was their star attorney. Rumor had it she'd never lost a case since she started practicing.

"Nice to meet you, Attorney Finch."

"Mr. Dickerson, I heard you're planning to divorce your wife. If you need legal representation, give me a call."

Wilfred couldn't help but chuckle. "I never imagined a star attorney like yourself would be out drumming up business. But your rates are way out of my league these days."

Margery tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her lips curving. "For you? I'd work pro bono."

Pro bono?

Wilfred blinked.

"Ms. Finch, have we met before?"

Her smile widened. "You really have a short memory, Mr. Dickerson. Don't you remember? When you were doing your graduate work at Seabrook University, your advisor was Professor Les Finch—my grandfather."

"I met you at his house more than once."

"That was you!"

It all came flooding back.

But...

Margery had changed completely.

Back then, she could be summed up in one phrase: disheveled bookworm. Every time he'd seen her at the professor's house, she'd been buried in textbooks, hair a mess, face bare. Now, years later, she hadn't just transformed—she'd metamorphosed entirely.

"You remember now!"

Margery removed her sunglasses, revealing a pair of striking eyes.

With the glasses on, the effect had been muted. Without them, her features came together in something approaching dangerous beauty.

"My grandfather's retired now, spending his days at home. He mentions you often—always with fondness." Her voice softened. "His health has been declining lately. If you have time, would you consider visiting him?"

"Visit him, and I'll handle your divorce for free."

Wilfred fell silent.

Les Finch. Former dean of Seabrook Tech University's School of Mathematics. A world-renowned mathematician. And the guiding light of Wilfred's academic journey.

An irreplaceable mentor.

When Wilfred had entered the university's accelerated program as a teenager, Professor Finch had been one of his advisors. He'd been young, struggling with cafeteria food, and the old man had often brought him home for proper meals.

He could still taste Mrs. Finch's mouth-watering chicken.

The professor's face surfaced in his memory—that warm, weathered smile.

Wilfred's head dropped.

"I'm sorry. I can't. I... don't have the face to see him."

Years ago, when he'd chosen to marry into the Pruitt family and abandon his studies, he'd told the professor himself. He could still remember the look in those eyes.

Utter devastation.

Margery stood outside the car, watching Wilfred's bowed head, the shame written across his features. Something tightened in her chest.

"I know some of what happened with your marriage back then. I know it wasn't entirely your choice."

"What I want to say is this: Wilfred, you're free now. If you still have dreams, chase them."

"No one's going to hold you back anymore."

"We're all waiting to see you rise again."