Christmas Eve always carried a weight I could never shake. When I slid into the back seat of the taxi, the world around me blurred into sleep, and I let it. As I awoke, it wasn’t to the sight of home, but to a cold, abandoned room.
I left the hospital after my shift as a nurse, totally wiped out. My boyfriend Jeremy had called earlier to say he’d already ordered a cab for me and was waiting at home to celebrate Christmas.
A yellow cab pulled up, and the driver gave me a friendly “Megan?” I nodded, barely able to keep my eyes open after two straight night shifts, and climbed in. The second I sat down, I fell asleep.
When I opened my eyes, it was pitch black. I was still in the back seat, but the driver was gone, and the car was parked in some dark garage. My heart started racing as I reached for my phone, but it wasn’t in my bag.
I got out of the car and started feeling my way around in the dark, searching for anything in that pitch black room. Just then, I heard a door creak open.
“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice cracking.
The man stepped forward, the door creaking wider behind him.
“Megan Price, right?”
“Why do you know my name?” I asked
He glanced at the cab, then back at me. “You’re not in any danger. I need you to come with me. There’s something you need to know.”
“To be honest,” he said, “I was against the fact that we scared you so much. Your boyfriend made it all up.”
My mind stumbled over the words. “What do you mean, my boyfriend made it up? Who are you?”
“I know this is… overwhelming,” he said, his voice wavering, “but I had no choice. We had no choice.”
A painful silence hung between us. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“But I am… your father, daughter.” His eyes met mine, and this time, a tear escaped, tracing a line down the deep creases of his face.
The word father felt sharp and unfamiliar like I’d stumbled across a shard of glass in my path.
For years, I’d pictured my parents in distant, shadowy forms, and now here was a real, flesh-and-blood person claiming he was part of me.
Jeremy must’ve sensed my hesitation. He stepped up, holding a crumpled envelope. “Megan, I know it’s hard to believe. But here—this is the proof. It’s a DNA test. I wanted to be sure before… well, before I put you through this.”
“How… how did you even do this? How did you find him?”
Jeremy let out a sigh, glancing at the man and then back to me. “I know you never thought about searching, but… I did. Two years ago, I decided to look into your family, quietly, just in case it would mean something to you one day.”
He pulled me closer, “I knew how much not having your family haunted you, especially at Christmas. So I started hiring people—private detectives, researchers. I went down every lead until we finally found a trail.”
The man—my supposed father—shifted his weight, rubbing his eyes as though he couldn’t quite believe it either.
“It wasn’t easy,” Jeremy continued, “I found out that… well, after your mother got pregnant, she never told him. He had no idea you existed.”
I felt the sting of that, the realization that my mother had chosen to leave me at an orphanage and walk away.
“She died several years ago,” Jeremy went on gently. “But I tracked down her sister. She lives in Eastern Europe, and after some long talks, she told me there was one person who could be your father. So, I reached out.”
I looked back at the man, “And he just… accepted it? Just like that?”
Jeremy nodded slowly, “He was shocked, of course. It was only once I told him about you that he agreed to come, but I wanted to be certain. I wanted proof. So, one night I… I took a few strands of hair from your brush.”
“I did’n’t know about you, Megan,” the man across from me—my father said, his voice thick, fighting back tears. “I didn’t know you existed until recently, and I… I didn’t believe it at first. But seeing you…” His voice faltered.
“You were never there,” I murmured, a trace of bitterness slipping out. “I grew up without you. Without any of you.”
“I don’t know if I can ever make up for that, Megan,” he said, voice raw. “I don’t even know if you’ll ever be able to forgive me. But if you let me… I’d like to be here now.”
Silence hung between us, thick with the years lost and the strange, uncertain possibility of the years ahead. I didn’t know if I could open myself to him, didn’t know if I even wanted to.
But Jeremy’s hand tightened around mine, grounding me, reminding me that maybe… just maybe… I didn’t have to go through it all alone.
“I don’t know if I can call you Dad yet,” I whispered. “But… I think I’d like to know you.”
His face softened, and for a moment, the years that separated us fell away. A tear slipped down his cheek as he managed a small, hopeful smile.
“That’s all I could ask for, Megan. Thank you,” he said, his voice trembling with gratitude.
And as the lights from the upstairs Christmas tree spilled down the stairs, I allowed myself to take a step toward something I’d never thought I’d have—a father, and maybe, just maybe, a new family.