My stepdaughter, usually so sweet and sensible, suddenly did a complete 180. Fighting, skipping class, drinking… At first, I just brushed it off as a delayed teenage rebellion. But then, one night, I came home late and opened the door to find: In the middle of the living room, my daughter, dressed provocatively, was fooling around with a couple of rough-looking guys! 1. “Mike, can you make that pot roast tonight? I’ve been craving it like crazy.” Abby, my stepdaughter, dropped her backpack by the door and immediately started buttering me up. I grinned and nodded right away. She was a senior in high school, neck-deep in college applications; anything she wanted, within reason, she got. Seven years ago, the first time I met Abby’s mom, Laura, I was hooked by her unique charm. I pursued her relentlessly, and eventually, we managed to build a new family together. Since I never had kids of my own, I poured all that pent-up "fatherly love" onto Abby. I treated her like she was my own flesh and blood. Abby was a great kid – really sweet, cute, and always listened. After all this time, she’d definitely accepted me as her stepdad. She just called me "Mike" instead of "Dad," you know, to keep that line clear. Later that night, I brought Abby a glass of warm milk, told her to focus on her homework, and then beat a hasty retreat to find some “comfort” from my wife, Laura. “Honey, it’s been driving me crazy these past few days… Can we try tonight?” I murmured, burying my face in her neck. Ever since Abby hit senior year, Laura and I had both been wound tighter than drums. Our sex life had pretty much evaporated. “Ugh, I’m not in the mood. Abby’s still awake. How awkward would that be if she heard?” Laura pushed me away, annoyance written all over her face, then rolled over, turning her back to me. Her attitude killed the mood instantly. Whatever hopeful stirring I’d managed vanished completely. A strange frustration started bubbling up inside me. I turned my back to her too, my mind racing. Laura used to be so passionate, practically jumping me whenever she got the chance. Why the cold shoulder lately? Could she… could she be seeing someone else? No, impossible! I cut that thought off immediately. It had to be the stress, I told myself. Abby’s college stuff was intense. Things would get back to normal later. Finally, June arrived. The day Abby finished her last exam, you could feel the tension lift in the house. Laura was so relieved, so excited, that we went at it like rabbits – seven times in one night. Okay, maybe my earlier suspicion was just paranoia. I let it go. But then Abby started acting… weird. Her grades were top-notch; she could get into almost any good university. It should have been great news, but after a few days of excitement, her mood plummeted. She started locking herself in her room all day. At the dinner table, “Here, have a piece of chicken,” Laura said, trying to put some on Abby’s plate. Abby slammed her hand on the table, knocking her bowl aside. “Leave it! I can get it myself!” she yelled. I quickly tried to smooth things over with Laura, grabbing Abby a clean bowl and chopsticks, quietly urging her to calm down and eat. “Mike,” Abby suddenly asked, looking straight at me. “What is it you even see in my mom?” The question stunned me. Before I could even process it, Abby stormed off, slamming her bedroom door behind her. All that was left was the sound of Laura muttering curses under her breath. Laura claimed Abby was mad because she didn’t want her applying to out-of-state colleges. Ah, okay. That made sense. No wonder Abby had seemed so down lately. I figured I’d find a chance to talk to her about it soon. In the end, though, Abby chose a university right here in the city. On orientation day, Laura had a work thing she couldn’t get out of, so I was the one who drove Abby to campus. “Your mom’s busy, she said not to be mad at her. She promised she’d make you something special when you come home after orientation week.” “I don’t care!” Looks like she still hadn't forgiven Laura. I just shook my head, figuring it would blow over eventually. But just as I turned to leave, Abby grabbed my arm. “Mike,” she said, her voice low. “Have you ever thought that maybe… maybe Mom isn’t worth you loving her so much?” Her words baffled me, but I just patted her head gently and gave her a small smile. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling… it was like Abby was trying to tell me something… 2 Back home, I headed straight for the fridge to grab a bottle of water. As I was drinking, I suddenly heard noises coming from the master bedroom. It sounded like… like a woman, maybe in pleasure… My brow furrowed. I tiptoed towards the door, trying to figure out what was going on. I was about to throw the door open, catch whatever was happening red-handed, but just as I reached for the knob, the door swung open from the inside. It was Laura. Her breathing was heavy, her hair was a mess, and her face was slightly flushed. “Thought you were busy at the office?” Seeing her like that, a knot of panic tightened in my gut. I pushed past her into the room, scanning for any sign of someone else. Nothing. Not a single clue. “Oh! I just dropped a file somewhere in here. I’ve been tearing the room apart looking for it. Totally exhausting,” she said, panting slightly. After a few hesitant seconds, the tightness in my chest finally eased. “Okay, okay, let me help you look. I’ll drive you back to the office afterward.” But as I walked past her, I noticed her let out a quiet sigh of relief. Half a month flew by, and it was the day Abby was supposed to come home from orientation. Laura was busy in the kitchen first thing in the morning, telling me to go pick Abby up from campus. I got to her dorm building and gave her a call. No answer. It went straight to voicemail. Suddenly, a girl with bright red hair and revealing clothes walked past. From the back, she looked a bit like Abby. She was with two or three rough-looking guys with bleached blonde hair, trying way too hard to look tough. I rushed over, got a closer look, and sure enough, it was Abby! “What are you doing dressed like this? Weren’t you supposed to be at orientation?” I tried to keep my anger in check, but I could feel my forehead creasing into a knot. “What’s it to you? Who do you think you are?” she snapped back, then muttered under her breath, “You’re not my real dad, anyway.” Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I was speechless, a lump forming in my throat. In all these years, she’d never spoken to me like that. Calling me out like this, in front of everyone, this middle-aged guy who was just her stepdad. “Let’s go. You’re coming home with me!” Without another word, I grabbed her arm, pulled her into the car, and drove off. On the way home, I clenched my jaw and didn’t say anything. I really thought I’d finally broken through her defenses, earned her trust. But what she said back there… it was clear she still saw me as some interfering outsider. My heart ached. “There’s a bar at the next corner. Just drop me off there,” she said, casually chewing gum, lounging in her seat. The exaggerated makeup, the heavy perfume, the lazy tone… she was obviously trying to play the "bad girl." I just didn’t understand why. “What are you doing? I told you to let me out!” “Are you crazy? I don’t want to go home!” “Let me out! Now! I don’t need you telling me what to do!” The more hysterical she got, the calmer I forced myself to be. I ignored her screaming and crying, drove straight home, and practically dragged her upstairs. 3 The second the door closed behind us, I finally lost it. “Abby, I put up with your crap the entire ride home! What the hell is wrong with you?!” The force of my voice seemed to stun her. She stood there, silent for a long moment. Then her lip started to tremble, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Fine! You’ve had enough of me, haven’t you? You think I’m just baggage that came with Mom! All these years, you’ve probably been wishing I’d just disappear, so you two could have your perfect little life, maybe even have your own kid!” Before I could even begin to deny it, Laura burst into the room and slapped Abby hard across the face. “What is your problem now?” “You hit me? What right do you have to hit me?! Yeah, you’re my real mom, but honestly, he’s been more of a parent to me than you ever were! How much have you actually cared about me, growing up?!” Listening to the two of them tear into each other, endlessly, I just slumped onto the sofa, rubbing my forehead, exhausted. The fight ended with Abby storming out of the house. That evening, Laura and I sat in silence at the dinner table, a huge spread of food untouched between us. Laura looked terrible, her usual energy completely gone, replaced by a dull sadness. “Mike,” she said quietly. “Do you think… do you think Abby hates me?” I paused, thinking it over. When Laura divorced her ex-husband, she fought tooth and nail for custody of Abby. Abby once told me she hadn’t initially wanted to live with her mom, but she never explained why. Laura definitely had a short fuse. Her work and her own life always seemed to come before family. That’s why I’d been the one holding things together at home all these years, for her sake. Compared to me, Abby’s relationship with Laura was… functional, maybe? Certainly not close. But hate? I didn’t think it went that far. I put a piece of chicken in Laura’s bowl, trying my best to comfort her. “Come on, you’re her mother. How could she hate you? It’s probably just teenage rebellion kicking in. Remember how sweet Abby always was? Starting college, everything’s new and exciting. As long as she doesn’t get into any real trouble, we should cut her some slack, right?” My reassurances seemed to work. Laura started to relax a bit, deciding not to dwell on it. But later, after I got Laura settled into bed, I went out onto the balcony for a smoke. My phone buzzed. It was a message from a coworker, Dave. “Hey Mike, check this out. Isn’t this your daughter?” Attached was a short video clip. I opened it. Under the flashing lights of some club, there was Abby, drinking with a few guys – the same type of guys I’d seen her with earlier. One of them even had his hand on her, casually sliding it around her waist, his eyes glued to her chest.
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