He nodded, suddenly looking self-conscious.
Before he could explain, I wrapped him in a hug.
At first he stood stiffly, then hugged me back.
“I think Mom would approve,” I told him.
“I hope so,” he murmured.
Soon afterward, he began meeting wonderful women.
Before every date, he told me about them.
One worked in a library.
Another owned a neighborhood bakery.
A third spent weekends volunteering at an animal shelter.
Every time, he seemed genuinely hopeful.
Yet none of them ever stayed.
At first, I assumed they simply weren’t the right match.
Dating was complicated.
Two people could enjoy an evening together and still realize there was no future.
That was what I kept telling myself whenever another woman stopped replying.
Then I noticed something impossible to ignore.
Every relationship ended exactly the same way.
The date always went wonderfully.
Afterward, my father would call me and describe the restaurant, their conversation, and the little moments that made her laugh.
He never sounded proud.
He sounded relieved.
They always made plans for another date.
By the following morning, she was gone.
No phone calls.
No messages.
No explanation.
The first time, Dad assumed she had become busy.
The second, he believed he had misread her interest.
By the third, he blamed himself.
“Maybe I talk about your mother too much,” he said.
“You barely mention her on dates.”
“Maybe I am too old-fashioned.”
“You held a door open for her. That is not a crime.”
He managed a tired smile, but my reassurance never truly reached him.
Each rejection broke his heart.
“I don’t understand,” he’d whisper.
“They all seemed so happy.”
Watching him lose confidence was painful.
With every disappointment, he drifted closer to the quiet man he’d become after Mom died.
He stopped singing again.
He checked his phone constantly.
He reread old conversations as though the answer might suddenly appear.
The fourth woman disappeared after saying she wanted him to meet her sister.
The fifth vanished after making weekend plans.
When the sixth did exactly the same thing, I knew something was wrong.
Six women could lose interest.
That much was possible.
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