The first time I saw Sophie, she ran straight into my arms.
She was small, with wide brown eyes and wild curls, and she smelled like baby shampoo and fresh grass. She clung to me like she already knew, like she had already decided I was hers.
Claire and I had fought for this moment. Years of failed pregnancies. Years of heartbreak. When we turned to adoption, the wait had felt unbearable—months of paperwork, home visits, interviews.
And now, here we were.
“You’re sure about this?” the social worker, Karen, asked.
She watched us carefully from across the table, a thick file in front of her. Sophie sat on my lap, playing with my wedding ring, humming softly to herself.
“Of course,” Claire’s voice was firm and confident. “She’s ours.”
Karen nodded, but there was hesitation in her eyes. She had seen too many people make promises they couldn’t keep.
“I believe you mean that,” she said. “But adoption isn’t just about love. It’s about commitment. This is forever. Sophie will test you. She’ll push boundaries, maybe even break things. Not on purpose, of course. But she’s just a child. You have to be prepared for all of this.”
Claire reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “We know,” she said.
Then she smiled at Sophie, who beamed back at her.
“She’s a perfect little angel.”
“Alright,” Karen hesitated for a moment. “Then congratulations, Claire and Simon! You’re officially parents.”
Something shifted in my heart. This was the beginning of forever.
I knew something was wrong the moment I stepped through the front door.
It was quiet. Too quiet, like the house itself was holding its breath. Then, out of nowhere, Sophie crashed into me, wrapping her tiny arms around my legs.
Her little voice trembled.
“I don’t want to leave, Daddy,” she said.
I frowned, kneeling so we were eye-level.
“Leave where, sweetheart?” I asked.
Her bottom lip wobbled. Tears welled in her wide brown eyes.
“I don’t wanna go away again. I wanna stay with you and Mommy.”
A cold chill ran through me. Where had she heard this? And why? Sophie was too little for school and spent her days at home with Claire or with our mothers.
Who had told her she had to leave?
“That won’t happen,” I promised. “You’re home now, sweet girl.”
Then Claire stepped into the hallway.
She wasn’t looking at me. Her gaze was fixed past my shoulder, arms crossed so tightly it looked painful. Her face was pale, blank even. But her eyes? They weren’t empty. They were distant.
Like something had already snapped inside her.
“Simon, we need to talk,” she said.
“Why is Sophie saying she has to leave?” I countered.
Claire’s jaw clenched.
“Send her to her room. Now, Simon!”
Sophie’s tiny fingers gripped my shirt. I smoothed a hand over her back.
“Sweetheart, go play for a bit, okay? Go to your room. I’ll come get you soon, and we’ll have dinner!”
She hesitated. Then, reluctantly, she nodded and padded down the hall, casting nervous glances between us before disappearing into her room.
The moment her door clicked shut, Claire spoke.
“We need to give her back.”
“What?” I gasped. “What did you just say?”
Claire’s arms tightened over her chest.
“I don’t want this anymore, Simon,” she whispered. “She’s… she’s ruining everything! My books, my files, my clothes… she even ruined my wedding dress!”
“What do you mean?” I frowned.
Claire exhaled sharply. “I had it out earlier. I was feeling nostalgic, I guess… Sophie walked in while I was holding it, and she lit up, Simon. She called it a princess dress and asked if she could touch it.”
My chest ached at the image of a little girl, full of wonder, staring at something beautiful…
“That’s—”
“That’s not the problem,” Claire snapped. “The problem is, she had paint all over her hands. The moment she touched the fabric…”
Her voice broke into a laugh, sharp and humorless.
“Bright blue handprints. All over the dress.”
“Claire, she didn’t do that to hurt you,” I sighed.
“You don’t know that, Simon!” Claire’s voice cracked. “She’s manipulative. She wants me gone so she can have you all to herself.”
I stared at her.
“Do you hear yourself right now?”
“You always wanted this more than I did.”
The words hit me like a slap.
I wanted this? Only me?
“You’re overwhelmed,” I said quietly. “This is just an adjustment. Like Karen said. Sophie is just testing boundaries, but she’s not…”
“Stop it, Simon,” Claire’s voice cut through mine like a blade. “Either she goes, or I do.”
I froze.
She had assumed she would win.
“I’m not going to destroy this little girl’s life,” I said, my voice even. Final. “She’s my daughter now.”
“You’re seriously choosing a stranger over me?”
“Stranger? Are you out of your mind?! I’m choosing what’s right.”
Claire stormed past me, grabbed her keys, and slammed the door behind her. The sound of her car screeching out of the driveway echoed in the night.
And just like that, she was gone.
One year later, Sophie still flinched at loud voices. She still hesitated before calling me “Daddy,” like she was afraid the word itself would make me disappear.
But she was laughing more now. Lighter. Learning to trust in a love that doesn’t leave.
Tonight, as I tucked her into bed, she curled against my chest, her tiny fingers wrapping around mine.
“You won’t leave me, Daddy?”
“Never,” I said, kissing her forehead.
She sighed, her body relaxing into mine.
Finally safe. Finally home.
