When I met my now-wife, she had a 3-year-old daughter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When she was around 4, she even started calling me \u201cDaddy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She\u2019s 13 now, and her biological dad drifts in and out of her life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Last night, she was visiting with her bio dad when I got a text from her:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCan you come pick me up?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n My heart sank. Something wasn\u2019t right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I drove over immediately. When I pulled up, she came running to my car. Her little hands clutched the straps of her backpack, and her eyes were red, like she\u2019d been holding back tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She slid into the passenger seat and whispered, \u201cCan we just go home?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I didn\u2019t push. I just drove. But halfway home, she said something that stopped me cold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDad\u2026 he doesn\u2019t even know my favorite color. He doesn\u2019t know the name of my best friend. He doesn\u2019t even remember my birthday.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Her voice cracked. \u201cBut you\u2026 you always know. You\u2019ve always been there. You\u2019re my real dad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n