He thought he’d be a father. Now he may never know the truth.

Tate Black dreamed of holding his child, of becoming a father—ready or not. But Days of Our Lives turned that dream into a nightmare, delivering one of the most devastating emotional blows in recent memory. The story wasn’t told from the usual teen mom angle. This time, it was the father—the forgotten one—who bore the pain. And Leo Howard brought that pain to life with a performance so raw, so vulnerable, it earned him Performer of the Week honors.

Sophia Choi arrived with news that would turn Tate’s world upside down: their baby, she said, had already been born and adopted. But even her words rang hollow. Because the truth was far worse—Sophia had secretly delivered a son weeks ago and placed him anonymously in a fire department Safe Haven Baby Box. No name. No goodbye. No father’s touch.

Tate’s face, as played by Howard, shifted from confusion to disbelief, from shock to searing grief. “You gave our baby away without asking me,” he choked out, the disbelief cutting through every word. “I wanted a chance to say goodbye, and you took that!” It was a line that stopped time—and broke hearts across the screen.

Brady, his father, stepped in—played with calm strength by Eric Martsolf—trying to help Tate process the betrayal. But Howard showed us something deeper: this wasn’t just loss. It was stolen parenthood. And still, Tate tried to rise above it, asking Sophia for the adoptive parents’ address, hoping to meet the baby just once. To make it feel real.

But Sophia deflected, manipulating the situation by claiming that Tate’s involvement could ruin the adoption. And Tate, caught between his aching heart and what he believed was best for his child, gave in. He signed the papers. And with that stroke of a pen, his rights vanished—without ever holding his child.

This moment could have crumbled under lesser hands, but Howard made it sing. His performance was a layered blend of fury, sorrow, restraint, and heartbreak. You could see Tate begging—without words—for a different ending. But none came.

Later, Tate sat alone with Brady. The strong-willed teen, who had faced so much, was now just a broken boy in his father’s arms. “I just thought I’d get to meet her,” he whispered, his voice hollow. “Hold her in my arms one time.” It was the kind of moment that reminds viewers why soap operas matter—not for the spectacle, but for the humanity.

And just when you thought the emotional arc had peaked, Tate called Holly. He wasn’t going to tell her. But the pain cracked through. “Holly… I didn’t even get to hold her.” That single sentence said more than a monologue ever could.

Earlier in the week, Tate had been the hero, rescuing a kidnapped Holly in an action-driven plotline. But this—this was the real test. The emotional weight of a storyline that dared to explore fatherhood from a different lens. And Leo Howard carried it like a veteran, reminding us that young men feel, grieve, and break too.

In a town full of secrets and schemes, will Tate ever learn the truth about the baby he lost—or was that final goodbye never his to have?