Stories About Fathers Novels & Stories

"Just give me a name, Robert." "Evander Sinclair," Robert stated clearly. The name echoed in the quiet room. I recognized it immediately. Evander Sinclair was a myth in the business world—a brutal, reclusive billionaire who had turned his family's shipping and tech empire into a global superpower before he even turned thirty. My father had spoken of him with immense respect, almost fear.

A few people chuckle. “If you want a story that’s really worth telling, I’m here to give you one. It’s about a brave, compassionate, willful man named Hans Lund… who just happens to be my father. He also happens to suffer from dementia.” There’s a new shift in the crowd as they all wonder where this is going. I’m wondering the same thing.

It was a story I enjoyed listening to from dad and I almost laugh out loud when I realize what dad is trying to tell me. "What?" I let out a scoff before opening the door to my old room. "It doesn't necessarily mean he'll change for you." Dad starts but I start shaking my head already tired of listening. "Then why did you remind me of that story dad? A story that you made up?" Dad made up that story when he didn't know what to do when mum was away. Mother was the storyteller, not him. Either way, I loved the story and made him tell every day but I would notice that it wasn't the same every time he narrated it. He would just say how he remembered it and then add some things and emit some unti

It was either that or gossiping about their married kids. “He’s so handsome, tell her Tony.” “I don’t like him.” I laughed at my dad’s comment. He didn’t like any men as soon as they were interested in me. “Tony, stop it. Come on, tell her!” My mom turned to look at me so earnestly I had to look serious. “Patricia said he works in oil and gas…” she pursed her lips to contain her excitement. “That means he’s loaded, Sierra.” “Seriously, mom?”

He had made an arrangement with my father, James, to ensure our safety and secure a better future for us. As we absorbed the weight of this revelation, emotions swirled within us—gratitude for the selflessness of our fathers, sorrow for the losses they had endured, and a profound sense of interconnectedness that tied our lives together in a way we could never have fathomed. Evelyn, with tears streaming down her cheeks, shared more details about the sacrifices our fathers had made. She spoke of their unwavering loyalty, their deep love for their families, and their enduring friendship that transcended time.

I don't think he intends to say anything. I explain to him that I have some issues to solve about my visa and my car. However, the priority is to sort out our fake story. I read some of the things I wrote down about personal preferences, some life stories we should share as a couple. As Jonathan reveals his story to me, I realize that we both share a pain related to our fathers. But the way he feels about the other family his father built, a "margarine commercial" family, I see that our pains are very different. I feel for him. And when I make a joking criticism about men, I can hardly believe it when he tells me he's been cheated on.

I sat back, my eyes fixed on his face, waiting to hear what he would say next. “I remember holding you in my arms for the first time,” my father continued, his voice full of emotion. “You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I felt so lucky to be your father. It was the most amazing feeling in the world.” I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, hearing the story of my birth told through my father's eyes. It was a story I had never heard before, and I was captivated by every word. “Go on,” I urged, not wanting him to stop.

Father admitted, “We were so close to reaching our dreams and find taking care of you a nuisance back then,” “We were young and naive, we don’t know anything about building a family aside from making the company expand more,” “But we were wrong, we realized that we were missing you and were about to take you back when we met this strange person, his name was Vladimir, I’m sure you both know him,” He added. I looked at my father and he looked like he was about to tear up while telling us such stories that he found it a little difficult to open up to us but he still did.

What should I do god if I stay silent my mother will be even more devastated but if I tell her I don't know what my father will do to my mother. We gathered in the TV room and told stories about all things, I was happy that my parents were happy but my heart hurt when I saw my mother being hurt by my father for years. one day my husband is just like my father, I don't want that to happen actually a lot of rich men want to ask for my hand but I refuse because I'm afraid I don't know how long this fear will last but I really don't want to have a committed relationship, if I can stand alonewhy am I with a man anyway my mother can also stand alone without a father but mother still chooses to liv

"You should get used to him baby doll. He is going to be your father-in-law and he's one of the best men I know. You know I only choose the best for you." "But Dad, you chose his son for me." I point out the obvious. "Of course I did silly girl. What I'm trying to tell you is that a good man will raise a good man. That's all." "Alright Dad. When do I get ready?" "I'm sure Anthony will text you the details." "But he doesn't have my number." "He's highly resourceful and influential. I'd be surprised if he didn't already have your number." That sounds wrong on so many levels, but I let it be.