The Ugly Dad My Daughter Wants Replaced

“Mom, can you find me a new dad? Every time there’s a school event, everyone’s father comes, and now my classmates all say I’m a bastard with no dad.”

I had just placed the last dish on the dinner table when my daughter’s words hit me like a thunderbolt. My chest tightened painfully as I looked at her.

She glared back. “What are you staring at? I never wanted you as my dad anyway, you ugly freak.”

“Mom, how about letting Uncle Marcus go to the graduation ceremony this time? Let him be my dad instead.”

“Uncle Marcus, would that be okay?” My daughter turned toward the man sitting across from my wife.

“Would you do us this favor?” My wife, Olivia Hayes, placed a piece of BBQ ribs into Marcus Reed’s bowl. “Your favorite ribs—try them.”

“I’m still alive.” I fought down my rage. “You people don’t even bother to hide it anymore, do you?”

“Then why don’t you just die?” my daughter spat, her eyes burning with hate. “It would’ve been better if you’d burned to death back then. You’re nothing but a burden.”

…

A burden? The memories flooded me, stabbing into my heart like blades.

Three years ago, a mall caught fire.

When I learned my wife and daughter were inside, I rushed into the flames without hesitation and carried them both out. My entire body was burned—ninety percent of my skin scorched.

I was lucky to survive, but I was left disfigured.

Instead of gratitude, my wife and daughter began despising me for my appearance.

I had once been cheerful and full of light. Now I had become withdrawn, learning to endure humiliation in silence.

For more than two years, they hadn’t given me a single kind look. They nitpicked everything I did. I endured it all for the sake of giving my daughter a complete home. I never imagined they would go this far—inviting another man to play her father at her graduation, spitting such venom right in front of me.

After my initial fury, I calmed down. Looking at them now, they really did resemble a family of three. And me? I was nothing but an obstacle.

I knew this house had no place for me anymore.

With calm resolve, I looked at my wife. “I’ll grant you your wish. Let’s divorce.”

“Is that really necessary?” Olivia frowned. “Marcus is just helping out with the graduation ceremony. Why make such a scene?”

Is it necessary?

I glanced at Marcus. This man could use my shower whenever he pleased, relieve himself in the master bathroom. When we went out, I was the driver while he sat in the back with my wife and daughter, laughing together.

Even my own master bedroom—once the love nest for my wife and me—was now his resting place. Ever since my accident, I hadn’t spent a single night there.

I used medicine daily, and Olivia complained about the smell. Yet when Marcus stumbled home drunk, reeking of alcohol, she never seemed to notice.

She always said he drank to secure business for the company. She claimed she had a clear conscience, that she dared bring Marcus home openly because she had nothing to hide.

But I knew better. Marcus passing out in the master bedroom was his challenge to me, his way of testing her boundaries.

I raised this point seriously once. Her reply? “Is that really necessary?”

And now, again, the same words.

Disappointment builds one drop at a time. Every time Olivia blurred the lines with Marcus, it was another knife in my heart.

I could no longer endure.

I pulled off my apron. “Tomorrow, I’ll meet you at the County Court.”