My Dad Who Left 20 Years Ago Called from His Deathbed for a Final Wish — What He Asked Broke My Heart

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When my estranged father, who left 20 years ago, called from his deathbed, I was torn between anger and curiosity. His final wish was something I never expected, and what he revealed about his disappearance shattered everything I thought I knew. I was getting ready for bed when my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

The number was unfamiliar, so I let it go to voicemail.

Not even a minute later, a text came through: “ALICE, THIS IS YOUR DAD. PLEASE CALL, I AM IN THE HOSPITAL.”

My heart stopped.

Dad? After twenty years?

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the message.

Part of me wanted to delete it and forget, but curiosity won. I called the number back. “Hello?” The voice was weak, barely audible.

“Dad?”

“Alice, it’s me.

I… I don’t have much time.”

“Why are you calling now?” My voice was harsher than I intended. “I need to explain… to ask something of you.

But please, don’t tell your mother.”

There it was, the same secrecy that defined my childhood. “What do you want?”

He took a shaky breath.

“I left because your grandfather, Harold, paid me to disappear.

He hated me, thought I was a failure. He found someone else for your mom, someone better.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Grandpa?

He did that?”

“Yes.

I was struggling back then. Addictions, bad decisions.

Your grandfather saw a chance to get rid of me, and I took the money.”

“So you just left us for money?” Anger bubbled up. “I know it sounds awful.

But I invested that money, built a business.

It was all for you, Alice. To secure your future.”

“Why didn’t you ever come back?”

“Part of the deal. I couldn’t approach you or your mom.

But I was there, watching.

I saw your graduation, your volleyball games. I was always there, just… from a distance.”

I felt like my world was tilting.

“Why didn’t Mom ever tell me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t want you to hate him.

Or maybe she thought she was protecting you.”

“What do you want now?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“I need to see you, Alice. One last time before I go. I’m at St.

Mary’s Hospital.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Could I face him after everything? “Please, Alice.

It’s my dying wish.”

The line went silent, and I sat there, the phone still in my hand, my thoughts tumbling. Should I go?

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