My name is Robert, I’m 65 years old, and I’ve been a single father since my wife, Margaret, passed away when our daughter, Amber, was just five.

Those early years after losing Margaret were the darkest of my life. I worked three jobs just to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. There were nights I survived on two hours of sleep, mornings when I’d iron Amber’s school clothes with one hand while making her lunch with the other.

Every single day, I prayed for one thing above all else: my daughter’s happiness.

Even when she grew up and started making choices that broke my heart, I never stopped wishing the best for her.

Which brings me to Louis.

From the moment Amber introduced me to this man, alarm bells went off in my head. He was the same age as my daughter, but there was something about him that made my skin crawl. Maybe it was the way he looked right through me when we shook hands, or how he interrupted Amber constantly when she tried to speak.

“Amber, I’m telling you, he’s not a good man,” I said to her one evening after Louis had left our house. “Watch how he treats people. Really watch. See how he flirts with other women right in front of you.”

She was sitting at our kitchen table. “Dad, you’re just being overprotective. You don’t know him like I do.”

“Sweetheart, I know men like him. I’ve worked with them, I’ve seen what they do to good women. Please, just be careful.”

Her face flushed red with anger. “You’re trying to turn me against him because you can’t stand the idea of me being happy with someone else!”

The accusation pierced through my heart. “Amber, that’s not true. I want nothing more than your happiness. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

But she wouldn’t listen. She stormed out that night and returned the next day.

I should have known things would get worse when I saw Louis in action with my own eyes.

It was a Tuesday afternoon at the grocery store near my house. I was picking up milk and bread when I spotted them in the checkout line. Louis was leaning over the counter, chatting up the young cashier who couldn’t have been older than 20. He was standing so close to her that I could see her uncomfortable smile from three aisles away.

The girl kept stepping back, but Louis kept moving closer, making jokes that had nothing to do with buying groceries. Meanwhile, my daughter stood right behind him, pretending not to notice, while her face burned with embarrassment.

I got home before they did and was waiting in the living room when they walked through the door.

“Amber, we need to talk,” I said, my voice steady but firm.

Louis immediately stepped in front of her. “Actually Robert, Amber and I were just discussing some private matters.”

“This concerns my daughter, so it concerns me,” I replied, looking directly at Amber. “I saw what happened at the store today. I saw how he was behaving with that cashier.”

Amber’s eyes filled with tears, but instead of the realization I hoped for, I saw anger flash across her face.

“Dad, you’re spying on me now? You followed us to the grocery store?”

“I didn’t follow anyone. I was shopping, and I saw your boyfriend disrespecting you right in front of your face.”

Louis put his arm around Amber’s shoulders, pulling her closer to him. “See what I mean, babe? He’s trying to control you. This is exactly what we talked about.”

“No, Amber!” I stood up, my hands shaking with frustration. “Look at what’s happening right now! He’s turning you against your own father!”

But she was already shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t care what you think you saw! You’re just trying to ruin my happiness because you can’t let me go!”

That night, she packed a bag and left.

For six long weeks, I heard nothing from her. No phone calls, no text messages, nothing.

I drove past her favorite coffee shop every morning on my way to work, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. I called her friends, but they all said the same thing — that Amber had asked them not to talk to her father.

When she finally came back, it was on a Sunday morning in April. I heard the front door open and found her standing in our living room wearing a white sundress I’d never seen before.

Louis was right behind her, wearing a suit that looked expensive.

“Dad,” she said, her voice formal and cold, “we have something to tell you.”

I looked at her face and saw a stranger. This wasn’t the little girl who used to climb into my lap when thunderstorms scared her. This wasn’t the teenager who cried on my shoulder after her first heartbreak.

“We’re getting married next month,” she announced, lifting her left hand to show me a diamond ring. “And we’d like your blessing.”

I couldn’t believe her words. I looked from Amber’s hopeful face to Louis’s smug expression, and I knew I was about to break my daughter’s heart.

I took a deep breath and looked my daughter straight in the eye. “Amber, I love you more than life itself. But I cannot and will not give my blessing for you to marry this man.”

“What did you just say?” she whispered.

“I said no,” I repeated, my voice steady despite my racing heart. “Louis is selfish, manipulative, and he will hurt you. I’ve seen it already, and I won’t pretend otherwise just to make you happy in this moment.”