Father Daughter Relationships Novels & Stories

"It's just...your daughter is a special woman. She is the kind of girl you start something real and serious with. Not the kind of girl...you know." "Then what is the problem?" Her father pressed. "I don't do commitment. I don't do relationships. She deserves better than what I have to offer." Faith's heart deflated. On the one hand, he'd given her some very high compliments. But on the other, he'd just shattered her hopes completely. "That's good to know then," her father said, shooting a pointed look in her direction. What he was really saying was it was good that she knew. "Thank you," she mouthed to him, holding back her tears. "Where are you going to sleep tonight, Pa? Don't tell me you

Sarah doesn't know what I would give to have her eyes, even though she may want mine. I'm going to reply when there's a sharp knock on my door. A few heartbeats later, Mother is looking inside. I tensely meet her black stare. She and I have never had the conventional mother-daughter connection, but that's simply the how it is as a noble. Instead of treating their children like babies, noble parents see their children as heirs, and they express their love by giving them honor and recognition rather than cuddles and kisses. Even yet, it's not something I encounter frequently. My relationship with my parents feels lifeless and icy.

Ilang metro rin ang layo ng mismong hotel sa kanilang cottage kaya habol niya ang kaniyang hininga nang makarating sila. “I lost my daughter, miss.” Agap niyang saad sa babaeng receptionist. “Where is your surveillance system team?” Humarap ang babae sa kaniya, medyo nagulat. “This way ma'am.” Iginiya siya nito sa silid kung saan naroon ang monitor ng mga CCTV ng resort. “Anong problema, Dina?” “She lost her daughter, Kuya Maco.” “Ilang taon po ma'am?” Baling ng lalaki sa kaniya.

I put my hand on top of him. I glanced at the woman behind him. She nodded her head every time she agreed with what her husband said. Just like the first time I met her it was like she was surrounded by this loving aura, which I couldn't help but be fascinated by. Ever since I found out she was my dad's mother, I had this question in my head. How is their relationship? Is their relationship as close as son and the mother? Or is it not? Dad never talked about his parents but he always watched the news about them.

My father had just reached out to me, and Damian was trying to stop me from taking his hand. Damian didn't understand the dilemma I was in. People say blood is thicker than water. My father is the only person I'm related to by blood. No matter how little space there is for me in his heart, I'm still his daughter. At the very least, I want him to accept me as his daughter. As for marriage? I have to admit, it could end at any time. Especially with someone like Damian. If even my father could have another woman and have a child like me, then what about Damian? No one knows what the future holds. I haven't even known him for a year.

Kathy had lost her bid for custody of her daughter, and her relationship with Dana was not going well. Meanwhile, half a continent away, Phil and Sabrina were struggling to keep their father-daughter bond from completely dissolving. All the activities they had shared had simply vanished and they barely saw each other. Phil had not been there when his daughter got her driver's license. She had not been available when he bought her first car for her seventeenth birthday.

He had his daughter's presence, and she had his financial help. - "It may sound ridiculous, but I don't know. We don't talk much" - "It's not ridiculous. You have the right not to want to approach" the godmother replied. Better than anyone else, Mirtes understood that the relationship between father and daughter was not easy, let alone loving. There were roots of hurt that would never be cut, and that poisoned the fruits of the relationship. - "I know. Anyway, I don't want to talk about Jean. Tell me about your business"

"Oh, that's right. Mary left this in the bus yesterday. I wanted to return it to her today." I stared at the hair clip. It was the same one that I had clipped into her hair yesterday morning. Why? Why did everyone say that I didn't have a daughter? Why didn't Marilyn's records exist even in the police database? "Are you alright, Mrs. Lopez?" Oliver asked, looking at me worriedly. I shook my head. My mind was a mess. Just then, I recalled something important. "Oliver, your father…" Oliver's eyes dimmed. "He passed away a year ago," he murmured.

She looked closely between me and Joshua and observed the way we were holding each other with her sharp eyes, giving an amused laugh right after. "The relationship between father and daughter these days is really close," she commented, "In my days, I couldn't even give my father a simple kiss on the cheek. That would be interpreted as disrespect; well, times have changed." She was still grinning at us. I sighed, pulling away slightly from Joshua; it was uncomfortable when people who saw us assumed he was my father, and imagining that he was actually my boyfriend would be the last thing they'd think of. "That's right. I love my daughter very much, so I need to be always hugging her," Joshua r