For weeks, a little girl from across the street waved at me every single day, both morning and night. Something about the way she looked at me—the sadness in her eyes—haunted me. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. One evening, I decided to go over and see who she was. What I found behind that door was something I never could’ve prepared for.
It all started with her tiny hand, raised up at the window, waving in my direction. Every time I looked up, there she was—a small figure, barely older than five, standing in the window of the building across from ours. Her eyes were fixed on mine, deep and intense, and it felt as if she was trying to communicate something, something important. It was strange. Something about it sent chills down my spine.
One evening, as I sat by the window, watching her again, I turned to my wife, Sandy, who was curled up on the couch reading. “Babe, she’s there again. The girl I told you about,” I said, my voice trembling.
Sandy looked up from her book, her brow furrowed in confusion. “The one who’s always waving at you?” she asked.
I nodded, unable to tear my gaze away from the little figure standing in that window. “Yeah. There’s something about her… I don’t know, Sandy. Her eyes… it’s like she’s trying to tell me something.”
Sandy sighed and set her book aside. She walked over to the window and stood beside me, looking across the street. “Oh, Arnie,” she said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe she’s just a lonely kid. Have you tried waving back?”
I shook my head, my heart heavy. “No, it’s not like that. It feels like something more. Like she’s calling out to me.”
Sandy’s grip on my shoulder tightened, a concerned look in her eyes. “Honey, you’re scaring me a little. It’s just a kid waving. Don’t read too much into it, okay?”
I forced a smile, but deep down, I felt like I was missing something. “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”
But as I closed the curtains, a lingering unease settled in my chest. Something wasn’t right, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was ignoring something important.
That night, my dreams were filled with the image of the little girl. She was crying, reaching out to me. Her voice echoed in my mind, desperate. “Don’t leave me, please. Don’t go.”
I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding. Sandy was sitting beside me, her concerned face hovering over me. “Arnie? Are you okay? You were talking in your sleep,” she whispered, her voice filled with worry.
I sat up, gasping for air. “I… I don’t know. That girl… she was in my dreams. She was crying. She said, ‘Don’t leave me,’ over and over.”
Sandy’s eyes widened with concern. “Maybe we should talk to someone about this… A therapist, maybe?”
I shook my head, my mind racing. “No, I can’t just ignore this anymore. I need to do something. I need to figure out who she is. I can’t keep pretending nothing’s wrong.”
The next morning, I woke up feeling exhausted. The night’s nightmares had taken their toll. The smell of freshly made pancakes wafted up from the kitchen, but even my favorite breakfast didn’t bring me any comfort. I walked downstairs, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on me. Sandy handed me a steaming cup of tea and a plate of pancakes.
“Rough night?” she asked gently.
I nodded, taking a sip of the tea, hoping it would settle my nerves. “Yeah, couldn’t shake off those dreams.”
Just as I finished my breakfast, I glanced out the window. My heart skipped a beat. There she was again. The little girl. And as soon as our eyes met, her tiny hand shot up, waving at me with that same intense look.
I set down my tea with a clatter. “That’s it,” I muttered, determination rising in my chest. “I’m going over there. I’m going to talk to her parents. I can’t keep doing this.”
Sandy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Arnie, are you sure about this?”
I nodded, not taking my eyes off the building across the street. “I need to know, Sandy. I don’t know what it is, but it’s like she’s trying to tell me something. I can’t ignore this anymore.”
Sandy came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Just be careful, okay? And call me if anything feels off.”
I turned around and kissed her forehead. “I will. I promise.”
As I crossed the street, each step felt heavier than the last. My heart pounded in my chest, my palms sweaty as I approached the building. I pressed the buzzer for the apartment I’d seen the girl in so many times.
There was a long silence before a woman’s voice crackled through the intercom. “Yes? Who is it?”
“Hi, I’m Arnold from across the street. I wanted to talk to you about your daughter,” I said, my voice shaky.
The pause that followed felt like an eternity. Finally, the door buzzed open.
When I stepped inside, my world turned upside down. The woman standing there was someone I hadn’t seen in years—someone I never expected to see again.
“JULIETTE?” I whispered, barely believing my eyes.
She nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. “Hello, Arnie. It’s been a long time.”
Before I could respond, a small figure appeared behind her. The little girl. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with hope.
“DADDY?” she called out, her voice filled with excitement.
The word hit me like a punch to the gut. My heart skipped a beat. I felt dizzy.
“What did she say?” I gasped, barely able to comprehend the situation.
Juliette stepped aside, her voice soft but firm. “Come in, Arnie. We have a lot to talk about.”
I sank down onto the couch, my mind spinning. Juliette sat across from me, her eyes full of sorrow.
“Arnie, do you remember that weekend at the lake house? Six years ago?” she asked, her voice trembling.
I nodded, the memories flooding back. “Our last weekend together before—”
“Before we broke up,” she finished for me, her voice soft with regret. “What I didn’t know then was… I was already pregnant.”
The words hit me like a slap. “What? You were pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tears filled her eyes as she looked at me. “I tried, Arnie. God, I tried. But you were gone. You had moved away, changed your number. It was like you disappeared.”
“I had a right to know,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.
“I know. I was young and scared. By the time I finally worked up the courage to find you, it had been years. I thought it was too late.”
The little girl, who Juliette introduced as Heidi, sat in the corner, her eyes never leaving me.
My daughter. The words echoed in my mind, surreal and overwhelming.
“When did you move here?” I asked, trying to make sense of it all.
“A few months ago. I got a job transfer. And when I saw you across the street that first day…” Juliette’s voice trailed off. “I told Heidi that you were her father. I thought maybe fate was giving us another chance. But then, I saw you with someone else…”
“She’s my wife, Sandy,” I explained, trying to piece it all together.
Juliette fell silent. I stood up abruptly, my mind reeling. “I need to go. I need to think.”
Heidi’s voice, full of fear, stopped me in my tracks. “Daddy? Are you leaving?”
Her words pierced my heart. I knelt down in front of her, fighting back tears. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. I promise. I just need some time, okay?”
She nodded, her small face filled with confusion. And in that moment, I realized how much I loved her, even though she was still a stranger to me.
As I left the apartment, Juliette’s voice called out to me. “Arnie? I’m sorry. For everything.”
I couldn’t find the words to respond. My mind was in turmoil.
When I returned home, Sandy was waiting for me by the door, her face filled with worry. “Arnie? What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I collapsed into her arms, the tears finally breaking free. Between sobs, I told her everything. About Juliette, about Heidi, and about the daughter I never knew I had.
Sandy held me tight, not saying a word, just letting me cry. When I finally finished, she pulled back and looked me in the eyes.
“What are you going to do?” she asked softly.
I shook my head, unsure of anything. “I don’t know. I have a daughter, Sandy. A little girl who’s been trying to reach me. How do I just walk away from that?”
Sandy took my hands in hers. “I’m scared too, Arnie. But we need to be careful. You can’t just take everything Juliette says at face value.”
I nodded, understanding what she meant. We needed to be sure.
The next day, I stood at Juliette’s door again. When she opened it
, I knew that this was the beginning of something new.
“Juliette,” I said, taking a deep breath, “let’s start from the beginning. Let’s figure this out. Together.” What do you think of the story? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
