A Single Dad Struggles Raising Triplets, One Day Finds Out They Aren’t His — Story of the Day

A man struggles to raise his triplets after his wife’s death, believing they were his own. However, his life takes a dark turn when he meets a stranger in the cemetery and learns that the children he has been devoted to raising are not really his.

Dried, rotten brown leaves crunched under Jordan Fox’s boots as he pushed the stroller into the Manhattan cemetery’s ornate gateway. Dry flowers and half-burnt candles were strewn across the lawn. A gust of wind howled through the row of Eastern red cedar, breaking the grave silence as he approached his late wife Kyra’s tomb. It was her first death anniversary.

“We’re going to see mama,” he told baby Alan, one of his triplets resting on his left hip. The other two, Eric and Stan, lay in the stroller, watching the sky and babbling at the sight of dragonflies.

Upon reaching the grave, Jordan’s heart raced as he noticed a silhouette of a stranger, seemingly in his late 50s, standing near Kyra’s grave. The man adjusted his Irish cap and leaned to brush the tombstone, which read: A twinkle in our eyes & hearts is now in the skies. — In Loving Memory of Kyra Fox.

Jordan strained to recall, but he couldn’t recognize the tall, stout man. “Who is he, and what’s he doing near my wife’s tomb?” he wondered, approaching cautiously.

“Amen!” said the man with a lopsided smirk as he finished the sign of the cross, turning to greet Jordan. His smile faded as his gaze shifted to the babies.

Jordan’s eyebrows narrowed in surprise. He was puzzled by this man’s presence. “So, who is he then? And what’s he doing here?” Jordan thought, uneasily.

“You must be Jordan Fox…It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fox,” the stranger said. “I knew you’d come here today, and I was waiting for you. I’m Denis…from Chicago…Kyra’s ‘old’ pal.”

Jordan was surprised. Kyra had never mentioned having a friend named Denis from Chicago. “Nice to meet you, Denis. I’m not sure I know you…Have we met before?”

“Not really! I just arrived in Manhattan. I found out that…” Denis paused, his gaze shifting back to the babies. “Can I see your babies…if you don’t mind?”

Jordan hesitated, reluctant to let a stranger near his children. Denis took the hint but couldn’t resist leaning over the stroller to look at the other two babies.

“They’re angels! Sweet little cinnamon rolls! They have my nose and eyes…and chestnut hair… And those big lashes…I had them when I was little!” Denis blabbered. He then looked up and said the unthinkable, catching Jordan completely off guard.

“Mr. Fox, I know this might not make any sense to you, but…I’m the boys’ REAL FATHER, and I’ve come here to take them.”

“EXCUSE ME??” Jordan frowned, his instinct urging him to punch the man. But he held back, considering Denis’s age, and tried to brush past him, thinking he was delusional.

“Mr. Fox, please believe me. I’m the father of those kids. A mistake I made in the past is haunting me. I want to correct it before it’s too late. Please, give me the children. I even have an offer for you.”

“Are you crazy, old man? Get outta my way before I call the cops,” Jordan snapped, clutching the stroller and baby Alan tighter.

But Denis wouldn’t budge and began disclosing intricate details about Kyra that startled Jordan.

“Kyra, your wife…She loved disco and bikes…was a brunette with a taste for art and French cuisine…Soupe à l’oignon and crème brûlée were her favorites. She was allergic to peanuts and had a small burn scar on her right thigh…and she had this…”

“ENOUGH…STOP!” Jordan yelled. “I don’t want to hear another word about my wife. Who the hell are you, and how do you know all this? What do you want?”

“I told you I’m the father of her kids. Mr. Fox, I know it’s weird, and I cannot get custody of my children. I know that, okay? But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to waste your youth on them and will appreciate my help in raising them. You are young and charming and still have an entire life ahead of you. But look at me. I am old and have nobody other than these babies. I want them back. Please hand them over to me and move on.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And it’s none of your business what I need to do in life, okay? Are you outta your mind, old man? You sound crazy…Go get a life. I don’t know you, and I think you’ve mistaken me for someone…Back off. And stay away from my children.”

“Mr. Fox, the kids are mine, and that’s the truth…and I’m ready to do anything to take them with me. But I don’t want to mess things up for you since you raised them for so long. So let me get this straight — I’m offering you $100,000! I’m ready to give you more if you want. Take the money and give me the babies.”

“I know more about your wife Kyra than you know about her. Take your time and get back to me, alright? Here’s my card.”

Tears of shock and grief welled up in Jordan’s eyes. He couldn’t believe Denis knew so much about Kyra. For a moment, he wanted to dismiss it as a cruel joke, but he couldn’t ignore Denis mentioning the burn mark on Kyra’s right thigh.

“It’s not a bribe, Mr. Fox. See, I want to thank you for raising my babies, okay? And you needn’t worry about anything. I’m fifty-seven and have enough experience in raising kids. You must be glad to put them in good, trustworthy hands. I know what you must be feeling. But don’t worry. Take your time to think about it and get back to me. Call me on this number, alright? I’ll be waiting. Denis Roberts hates a ‘no’ for an answer, so…”

Denis tucked a visiting card into Jordan’s hand and walked away, leaving him with more than just a shock and heartbreak.

The flickering flame and candle smoke on Kyra’s tombstone brought Jordan back to the present. He placed the bouquet on the grave, observed a minute of silence, and then hurried out of the cemetery with his babies. Denis’s words haunted him as he drove home.

Jordan couldn’t focus on the road. He stopped the car at random intervals, trying to gather his thoughts, but it was in vain.

“Was everything she told me a lie? How could she do this to me?” he cried, imagining Kyra sitting beside him in the passenger seat. Jordan needed answers but didn’t want to believe Denis’s words.

But the part about the burn scar on her right thigh? He couldn’t help but suspect her, considering the circumstances under which he had met her two years ago.

It was the spring of 2016. Jordan was making cocktail shots behind the bar counter when his gaze fell on a young and beautiful Kyra. She was with her friends, the noisiest in the group. Jordan thought she was stunning and wanted to date her but never found the opportunity.

As days passed, Kyra began frequenting the bar, and Jordan was more than delighted to serve her whenever she visited.

“One more Margarita on the rocks, please!” she often told him with a glossy smile flickering across her face. Kyra never even looked at Jordan ‘differently,’ treating him as a kind bartender. But he had already fallen head over heels for her. He would leave for his night shift daily, rehearsing a smile and adjusting his hair, black bow tie, and muted gray shirt at least a dozen times, confident about impressing Kyra.

One night, Jordan was crushed after seeing her kiss another guy in the pub. Reality hit hard when he realized Kyra only saw him as a bartender and nothing more. Heartbroken, Jordan started keeping his distance from her, knowing she would never be his. However, one night, he couldn’t hold himself back when he saw Kyra bitterly crying alone in the lounge.

“Miss, hey, are you alright?” he asked and saw her boyfriend, Shawn, dancing with another girl. Jordan’s heart melted, and he could partially guess what had hurt Kyra. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Streaks of warm tears ran down her cheeks, smudging her eyeliner.

“I want to go somewhere…can you please take me away? I feel like dying,” she buried her face in her palms and wept. She cried her heart out to a stranger, but Jordan did not treat her like one. She meant more than anything to him, and he was ready to do anything to comfort her.

He took an hour off and offered to drop her home as she was too drunk to leave alone.

“Shawn and I have known each other for six months,” Kyra ranted, her breath reeking of alcohol. “That pervert! He dumped me for that stupid Lily…What does she have that I don’t? Jerk! He said he didn’t want to continue this with me. What an —”

“I’m so sorry for you. Be strong, Miss. It happens…and life has to go on. Maybe he doesn’t deserve you at all. It’s his loss…Please don’t cry. I’m always here as your friend whenever you need me, alright?”

Kyra nodded, her teary-eyed stare fixed on Jordan before passing out in the seat. He awakened her upon reaching her house and helped her out of the car.

“Thanks, Jordan!” Kyra smiled through the fogged window as she got

inside. “I hope to see you again. Maybe we should hang out sometime! Let me know if you’re free!” she said and went in, shutting the door behind her.

Jordan was happier than ever. Though his heart hurt to see her weep over another man, he was glad to console her and be a shoulder to cry on.

After that night, things changed, and their casual chats evolved into a relationship. Jordan and Kyra started dating. They went out more frequently, attended a couple of disco nights, and spent their leisure at the bowling alley and pizza parlor. He was surprised by how quickly he had impressed her and wanted to marry her. Though Kyra was hesitant at first, she eventually agreed.

They tied the knot in an intimate wedding, and three months later, Kyra found out she was pregnant. Jordan was shocked. But he was equally thrilled and dreamt of being the best dad ever. His joy knew no bounds when Kyra announced they would have triplets.

Jordan’s life was perfect. He had the most beautiful wife and three adorable babies until that tragic car crash last year that killed Kyra.

Back in the present, Jordan wondered if he had been a father to another man’s kids. All the details Denis gave about Kyra were true. But there was one piece of information that baffled him.

When he married Kyra, she told him she was from Philadelphia and had no one other than a distant cousin who never contacted her. But Denis said she was his friend from Chicago, not Philadelphia, and that they were in a relationship for years. Jordan had not considered this a red flag until Denis showed up at the cemetery. He had dismissed any doubt he had back then.

He could still vividly recall the triplets’ birth and how the hospital staff had initially mixed up the newborns. For a brief moment, Jordan had feared the children weren’t his. But after checking the identification bands, everything was confirmed. Now, Denis’s words made him wonder if that moment had been a foreshadowing of a much darker truth.

Jordan decided to investigate. He contacted the hospital where the triplets were born, requesting a DNA test. He also rummaged through Kyra’s belongings, searching for any clues that might link her to Denis.

A week later, the DNA test results arrived. Jordan’s hands trembled as he opened the envelope. The results confirmed his worst fear: he was not the biological father of the triplets.

Denis was telling the truth.

Jordan felt as though the ground had been ripped from beneath him. His world crumbled, and the love he had poured into raising the triplets now felt like a cruel joke. He looked at the boys, who were playing innocently with their toys, completely unaware of the storm brewing in their father’s heart.

Jordan knew he couldn’t just hand them over to Denis. These were his sons, no matter what the DNA said. He had been there for every sleepless night, every first word, every tiny milestone. But the truth loomed over him like a dark cloud, and he knew he couldn’t keep it hidden forever.

He called Denis, arranging to meet in a park, away from the children. When they met, Jordan handed over the DNA results without a word. Denis read them, his face betraying a mix of sadness and resolve.

“I told you the truth, Mr. Fox,” Denis said softly. “But I also told you I didn’t want to take them away from you. They’re your children too, in every way that matters. I just want to be a part of their lives.”

Jordan looked at Denis, seeing the genuine pain in the older man’s eyes. He realized that Denis wasn’t a threat but a father who had also lost something precious. After a long silence, Jordan nodded.

“We can figure something out,” Jordan said, his voice thick with emotion. “But they stay with me. I’m their father.”

And so, an uneasy truce was formed. Jordan and Denis navigated the complicated new reality, each man learning to share the love of the children who had unknowingly tied their fates together. Despite the sorrow and betrayal, they found a way to create a new kind of family, one bound not by blood but by the love of the children they both called their own.