Last Three Shots

My husband doesn't love me or our daughter. It's been six years since she was born, but he's never held her.

The doctors say he has an emotional disorder, and that he doesn't know how to express the way he feels.

But when his true love returns, he smiles at us for the first time. He even brings our daughter a gift.

I think it's because he's finally seen sense… until she and I see the photo he uses as his phone's wallpaper.

In it, his eyes are crinkled as he smiles. He has one arm around a little girl whose front tooth is missing, and he holds his true love's hand with the other.

My daughter tugs on my hand, and her eyes redden. "Mommy, do you think we should leave? Should we give Daddy three final chances? Let's leave him if he still doesn't want us after that."

I gently stroked my daughter Daisy Reeves's head and nodded. Then, I put my phone back in its place and pretended nothing had happened. Yet, no matter how I tried, the bitterness still filled my chest.

Eventually, I sighed and coaxed Daisy back to her room. After all, I had promised her to give her father, Connor Reeves, three more chances. So, Daisy still treated him like her father, just like before.

Daisy even brought home a plaster doll she made in kindergarten for Father's Day. She timidly asked me, "Do you think Daddy will like my gift?"

I saw the dried-up clay in Daisy's fingernails that wouldn't be washed away even with scrubbing. With a heavy heart, I gently cleaned her hands. Noticing the tiny cuts on her delicate fingers, I patted her head and assured her, "Daddy's going to love it."

Sure enough, Daisy's whole face lit up when she heard that. In truth, she wasn't naturally good at making clay figures. However, after spotting one on the shelf in Connor's study, she figured he liked them, so she started learning at her kindergarten.

She had probably ruined countless attempts before finally making one successful figurine.

That night, Daisy sat on the couch waiting until midnight, but Connor didn't return. When I went to carry her back to bed, I accidentally woke her up. She asked groggily, "Is Daddy home?"

I shook my head. "Mommy's taking you to bed first. I'll wake you up when Daddy comes home."

"No, I want to wait for Daddy right here!" Daisy refused to sleep and curled up on the couch, nodding off as she waited.

Finally, the front door creaked open—Connor was home.

Daisy jumped off the couch right away, excitedly holding up her plaster doll with both hands. She beamed, saying, "Happy Father's Day, Daddy!"

Connor visibly froze for a second. Then, he reached out stiffly and took the gift, muttering a rough "thanks".

Daisy's eyes lit up instantly, and she eagerly asked, "Daddy, do you like it?"

However, Connor didn't answer. Instead, he just walked straight into his study without another word. Daisy tried to follow, but he snapped, "How many times have I told you not to come into my study?"

She flinched, trembling slightly as she mumbled, "Okay, Daddy… I got it."

She looked up, trying to gauge Connor's reaction, only to see him casually toss the plaster doll on the desk. Then, he took another clumsily woven string bracelet and hung it carefully on his bookshelf.

Daisy's eyes reddened, and she blurted out, "Daddy, did Hazel give you that?"

Connor's hand froze midair. His expression shifted into something uneasy.

Daisy seemed to instantly understand something and quickly backed out of the study. She muttered, "I'm sorry, Daddy. I promise I'll never go into your study again."