Each Boyfriend Left After Meeting My Kids, So I Decided to Uncover the Real Reason

“Every New Relationship Ended After They Met My Daughters — The Secret I Finally Unraveled”

Every man I brought home after my divorce started running away after he met my girls. After a second guy left mid-meal, I looked for explanations. I was shocked and devastated to learn the truth about my daughters’ ulterior intentions from my investigation.

After enduring a difficult divorce from Roger two years ago, I thought my world had come to an end. We had been married for fifteen years and were blessed with two wonderful children, Casey, who is twelve, and Veronica, who is fourteen. Life had been happy until everything began to unravel. The constant late nights, endless arguments, and the growing silence between us led to our separation. I was given custody of the girls, while Roger would visit them on weekends.

I made the decision to move on and look for love once more two years after the breakup. not only for myself but also for my girls. They ought to have a father role model in their lives.

I didn’t understand why my boyfriend, David, ended our relationship after seeing my girls until I recently had him over for dinner and showed him around my kids.

“David, what’s going on?” I asked, concerned, as he suddenly stood up from the dinner table, his face drained of color. Without a word, he reached for his coat and left, leaving me in stunned silence.

Sitting silently, Veronica and Casey gazed at their dishes.

“What happened, girls?” Shaking my voice, I questioned. Their silence was frustrating and they did not reply.

I contacted David several times that evening, but he didn’t answer. He texted Melinda the following morning to say, “It’s over. I am unable to wed you. Farewell!”

My heart felt like it was shattering repeatedly. This wasn’t the initial instance.

Earlier that year, I had been in a relationship with Shawn, and he had behaved similarly. Victor was next in line. Each of these men knew about my daughters and my past. So why did things keep falling apart?

I was going to find out, I swear. I let my heart out to my friend and coworker Jose the following day when we met at work.

“It feels like a cycle, Jose,” I said, tears beginning to fill my eyes. “Every time a man meets my daughters, he just vanishes.”

“Come on, Melinda, it can’t be that bad,” a laughing Jose remarked.

“I mean it. I said, ‘I need your assistance.

He agreed to help me. A few weeks later, I had Jose over for dinner and introduced him as my “new boyfriend.” Instantly, Veronica and Casey’s smiles faded.

“Jose, why don’t you chat with the girls and get to know them better?” I suggested, as I typically did, leaving them at the table. With my heart pounding, I anxiously waited in the kitchen.

Jose’s face seemed paler than usual when I got back. He was holding his fork tensely and was hardly paying attention to me.

He hurried off after supper, and I sensed a problem. I gave Jose a call that evening after the girls had gone to bed.

“Jose, what happened?” Barely able to control my voice, I asked.

“Melinda, we need to talk in person,” he stated. My heart fell.

I rushed to the office the following morning and saw Jose before our shift began.

“Tell me,” I insisted. “What took place the night before? How did the girls respond?

“Your daughters, Melinda, believe that you and Roger will reconcile. “They intentionally scare your boyfriends away,” he admitted.

I became motionless. “What do you mean?”

“I was told terrible things about you by them. that you’re not good at cleaning, caring for them, or cooking. They say you have problems with sleepwalking and are a shopaholic. Jose clarified, “They even say you brought home seven boys this week alone.

Tears streamed down my cheeks. “None of that’s true, Jose.”

“I am aware. However, the reason behind their actions is their desire for you and Roger to reconcile. You should speak with them,” he softly suggested.

I stormed home that evening, my heart heaving with pain. While Casey and Veronica were playing in the living room, I was having a storm of my own.

“We need to discuss, girls. Now,” I gathered them up and stated forcefully. They looked at one other nervously but said nothing.

“I am aware of your actions. telling my guys lies to frighten them away. Why not?” With a broken voice, I demanded.

They first denied it. However, they eventually admitted when I threatened to take away their vacation time and pocket money.

“All we want is for you and Dad to reconcile, Mom. Our parents are both necessary to us. With tears running down her cheeks, Veronica murmured, “We need our old life back.”

My heart seemed to be breaking into a million tiny bits. “But why didn’t you tell me this before?” With tears choking me, I asked.

Casey muttered, “We were afraid you would be mad.”

I gathered them into my arms after taking a big breath. I know you’re trying, but this isn’t possible. Neither to those men nor to me is it fair. We really ought to talk about this in depth.”

We conversed late into the night while sitting together. I said that I needed to move on and find happiness even though I understood their feelings.

“But, Mom, is it really too late to get back together with Dad?” Veronica enquired in a tiny, hopeful voice.

I brushed a piece of hair off her cheek and groaned. “My dear, I’m not sure. However, I am aware that we must be truthful and encouraging of one another. Please, stop telling lies.”

I attempted to lighten the situation as they nodded. “And just so you know, I’ll remember this when it’s your turn to bring a guy home.”

The girls giggled, but a concern lingered in the back of my mind: was it truly too late to set those disagreements aside and reconcile with Roger for the sake of our kids?

I had trouble focusing at work the following day. My thoughts kept returning to what I had said to my daughters. Was there any chance of getting back together with Roger? I chose to give him a call.

“Hi Roger. Can you spare a moment?” When he answered, I cautiously inquired.

Yes, Melinda. What’s going on?” He sounded inquisitive but not rude.

“I believe we should speak. personally. It’s all about the girls,” I murmured, a little shaky in my voice.

“All right. He proposed, “How about tonight at that coffee shop we used to go to?”

“That works,” I agreed, though a knot of anxiety formed in my stomach. “See you at seven.”

Roger was seated at a corner table when I entered the busy coffee shop at precisely seven o’clock. He smiled slightly at me as he looked up.

He said, “Hey, Melinda,” as soon as I sat down.

“Hello, Roger. “I appreciate you coming to see me,” I replied, twitching my coffee cup.

“So, what’s on your mind?” he leaned forward to inquire.

“The females. I burst out, “They’ve been… ruining my relationships because they still think we’ll get back together.

Roger appeared taken aback. “What? Why did they remain silent?”

“They felt afraid. They anticipated my wrath. Roger, there’s more to it than that. They long for our relatives. They desire for us to reunite,” I said.

Roger rubbed his temples and moaned. “I was ignorant of this. I felt that they were managing the divorce quite nicely.”

“I also did. But they obviously aren’t. I hesitated before offering, “I know we had our disagreements, but maybe… for their sake, we should try to work things out.”

His face was a whirlwind of emotions as he glanced at me. “Melinda, it’s not that easy. We were having serious problems. That’s the reason I chose to be unmarried following my divorce.”

“I am aware. However, we could try counseling. Check to see if anything is still valuable to save. For the girls, please “I begged.

Roger let out another sigh and peered out the window. “All right. Let’s attempt it. For the females.

The following few weeks were an emotional roller coaster. In an attempt to regain the communication and trust we had lost, Roger and I began attending counseling.

It was not simple. Some days I wanted to give up, while other days I felt hopeful. But I continued because I thought of our daughters.

Roger and I once had a really difficult session, and we sat in quiet in the car.

“Do you think this is working?” Silently, I inquired.

“I’m not sure. However, we owe it to the daughters to give it a shot,” he answered, extending his hand to grasp mine.

After a month of therapy, we made the decision to share our progress with our girls.

“Your Dad and I have been speaking, girls. We’re attempting to resolve the situation,” I said hesitantly as I observed their smiles.

“Are you serious? Does that imply that you two are reconciling? Casey excitedly chirped.

Roger reaffirmed, “We’re trying, but we’re not making any promises.”

There was a glimpse of hope as the girls gave us firm hugs. Perhaps, just perhaps, we could manage this.

As the weeks passed, things began to get better. I could talk to Roger more easily, and the girls appeared to be in good moods. I experienced a calmness that I hadn’t experienced in years when we were all sitting down to eat one evening.

“This is really nice, Mom and Dad,” Veronica grinned at us.

“It is, isn’t it?” I nodded, sensing Roger’s hand beneath the table.

Even though there was still a long way to go, I felt like we were headed in the right direction for the first time in a long time. My girls were beaming, but there was a question gnawing at the back of my mind. Were these smiles shared moments that would endure a lifetime, or were they only flimsy flowers emerging from the ashes of a failed marriage?