After my divorce, every boyfriend I introduced to my daughters seemed to vanish shortly after. When one man left in the middle of dinner, I couldn’t take it anymore. Determined to find out why this kept happening, I began digging for answers—and what I discovered about my daughters’ hidden motives left me shocked and heartbroken.

I never imagined my life would take this turn. My marriage to Roger had been full of love for 15 years, and together, we had two beautiful daughters—Veronica, 14, and Casey, 12. But things started falling apart with his late nights at work, endless arguments, and the deep silence that followed. Eventually, we divorced. I got full custody of the girls, and Roger had weekend visits.

Two years after our split, I decided it was time to move on and find love again—not just for me, but for my daughters too. They deserved a father figure, and I was ready to try again.

But when I recently introduced my boyfriend, David, to my girls, everything changed. At dinner, David suddenly stood up, pale, and left without a word. I was left sitting there, stunned, as Veronica and Casey remained silent, avoiding my gaze.

“David, what’s wrong?” I asked, my voice trembling.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed his coat and walked out. I was left with more questions than ever.

“What happened, girls?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. But they didn’t say a word.

That night, I called David several times, but he never picked up. The next morning, I received a text that read: “It’s over, Melinda. I can’t marry you. Goodbye.”

I felt my heart shatter. This wasn’t the first time it had happened. Earlier that year, Shawn, another guy I’d dated, had done the same. And before him, there was Victor. All of these men knew about my past and my daughters. So why did they all disappear?

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was going on. I had to know what was happening. So, I turned to my friend and colleague, Jose, for advice.

“Jose, this keeps happening. Every time I introduce my boyfriends to my daughters, they vanish,” I said, barely holding back tears.

“You’re exaggerating, Melinda. It can’t be that bad,” he replied with a light laugh.

“I’m serious. I need your help,” I pleaded.

Reluctantly, Jose agreed. A few weeks later, I invited him over for dinner, introducing him as my new boyfriend. Veronica and Casey’s faces immediately fell when they saw him. I asked Jose to talk to them while I stayed in the kitchen, trying to ignore the rising anxiety in my chest.

After dinner, I noticed how pale and tense Jose looked. He didn’t speak much, and when he left, I knew something was off. Later that night, I called him.

“Jose, what happened?” I asked, my voice shaky.

“Melinda, we need to talk. In person,” he replied. My heart sank.

The next morning, I met him at work before our shift started.

“Tell me. What did the girls say?” I demanded.

Jose hesitated before speaking. “Melinda, your daughters… they think you and Roger are going to get back together. They’re deliberately scaring your boyfriends off.”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“They’ve been telling me horrible things about you—things like you can’t cook, clean, or take care of them properly. They even said you’re a shopaholic and that you’ve brought home seven men this week alone,” he explained.

I was stunned, tears streaming down my face. “None of that is true, Jose.”

“I know. But they’re doing it because they want you and Roger to get back together. You need to talk to them,” he advised gently.

That evening, I confronted Veronica and Casey.

“Girls, we need to talk,” I said, my voice firm. They exchanged worried glances but said nothing.

“I know what you’ve been doing. Why are you lying to my boyfriends?” I asked, my voice breaking.

At first, they denied everything. But when I threatened to take away their allowances and vacations, they confessed.

“Mom, we just want you and Dad to get back together. We miss our family. We need things to go back to how they were,” Veronica said, tears in her eyes.

My heart shattered as I listened to her. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I asked, my voice thick with emotion.

“We were scared you’d be mad,” Casey whispered.

I took a deep breath, wrapping them in my arms. “I understand, but you can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to me or to those men. We need to be honest with each other.”

We spent the rest of the evening talking things through. I explained that while I understood their feelings, I needed to move on and find my own happiness.

“But, Mom, is it too late for you and Dad to get back together?” Veronica asked quietly.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. But what I do know is that we need to support each other,” I said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

The next day, I couldn’t focus at work. I kept thinking about the conversation with my daughters. Could it be possible to get back together with Roger, for the sake of our children? I decided to reach out.

“Hey, Roger. Can we talk?” I asked nervously when he answered.

“Sure. What’s on your mind?” he replied.

“It’s about the girls. They’ve been sabotaging my relationships because they still hope we’ll get back together,” I told him.

Roger was shocked. “Why didn’t they tell me this?”

“They were afraid. But it’s clear they miss our family. They want us together again,” I explained.

Roger rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. “I didn’t know they were still struggling with this.”

I took a deep breath. “Maybe we should try to work things out—for the girls.”

“It’s not that simple, Melinda. We had real problems,” he replied, his voice tinged with frustration.

“I know. But maybe counseling could help us see if there’s anything worth saving,” I suggested.

After some thought, Roger agreed. We started attending counseling sessions, working through our issues. It wasn’t easy, but the thought of our daughters kept me going.

A month later, we told the girls about our efforts.

“We’re trying, girls. We’re trying to make things work,” I said gently.

Their faces lit up, and for the first time in years, I felt a sense of hope.

As the weeks went by, Roger and I made progress. We were communicating better, and the girls seemed happier. One evening, Veronica smiled at us during dinner.

“This is really nice,” she said.

“It is,” I agreed, feeling Roger’s hand squeeze mine.

We still had a long road ahead, but for the first time, I felt like we were on the right path. Maybe, just maybe, we could make this work. For our family.