After my mother died, my father didn’t date anyone for twelve years, but when he started going on dates again, the women began disappearing one after another after the very first meeting. To find out why, I asked my best friend to go on a date with him. The next morning, she disappeared too, leaving me a strange message… 😨
My mother was only forty-eight when she passed away. My father, Robert, took her death very hard. During the first few years, he would even get angry when I carefully suggested that he meet someone.
But recently, everything changed.
He signed up for a dating site and started going on dates. After the first one, he came home pleased.
—I think we’ll see each other again, he said.
But the next morning, the woman stopped responding.
The same thing happened with the second one. Then the third.
At first, I didn’t think much of it. People meet, realize they aren’t right for each other, and go their separate ways.
But after the sixth woman, I started to feel uneasy.
Every time, it happened exactly the same way: a wonderful evening, conversations about meeting again—and then complete silence the next morning.
So I told my best friend Rachel everything.
—Go on one date with him. Just talk to him and then tell me if you notice anything strange.
She refused for a long time, but eventually agreed.
That evening after the date, Rachel stopped answering.
I called her again and again. Toward evening, a message finally came:
“Don’t call me. Please.”
I felt a chill run through me.
The next day, she was the one who asked to meet.
When I walked into her office, Rachel looked as though she hadn’t slept all night.
—What did my father do? I asked immediately.
—Your father? Nothing.
—Then what happened?
Rachel silently took out her phone.
—I received this twenty minutes after our date.
She opened the message and handed me the phone.
I read the first two lines and felt my hands begin to tremble. 😨
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On the screen was a message from an unknown number:
“Robert still loves his wife. Don’t try to take her place. If you continue seeing him, you’ll regret it.”
Below it was a photo of Rachel and my father outside the restaurant.
—I received five more messages like this, she said. —They included my address, my workplace, and even my sister’s name.
My hands went cold.
—Why didn’t you tell me right away?
—I was scared. Then I thought: if this happened to me, it means the other women received the same messages.
We found two women my father had dated before. Both confirmed that they had received similar threats after their dates.
But who could have known about all those meetings?
The answer was closer than I thought.
Rachel noticed that one of the photos had been taken near my father’s house. The camera was pointed directly from the property across the street.
My late mother’s sister, my aunt Linda, lived there.
I went to her house and placed the phone on the table.
—Was it you?
She was silent for a long time, then began to cry.
—He promised your mother he would love her forever.
I couldn’t believe my ears.
Linda admitted that she had been keeping track of my father through his public profiles and mutual acquaintances. She found information about the women and then frightened them away.
—I just didn’t want him to replace your mother.
—You weren’t protecting Mom’s memory, I said. —For twelve years, you prevented a living person from moving on with his life.
My father was devastated when he learned the truth. But what hurt him most was that everything had been done by someone close to him.
He cut contact with Linda, and the women received apologies from her.
A few months later, my father went on another date.
Before leaving, he was as nervous as a teenager.
—Do you think she won’t disappear this time?
I smiled.
—Now, at least, it will be her own decision.
And then I understood: loving someone who is no longer here doesn’t mean closing the door forever to those who may still enter your life.
