Simon and Claire finally have the family they always longed for—until Claire insists they return their newly adopted daughter. As Claire’s affection fades into resentment, Simon is left with an impossible decision. But for him, there is no doubt. Sophie is his daughter now. And he will fight for her, no matter what.
Claire and I spent years trying for a child. When it didn’t happen, she suggested adoption. It felt like the right path. After months of waiting, we met Sophie—a bright-eyed 4-year-old who had been in foster care since birth. From the moment she arrived, she clung to us, calling us Mommy and Daddy before the paperwork was even finalized.
Then, a month after bringing her home, I walked in from work, and Sophie ran straight into me, her little arms wrapping tightly around my legs. Her voice shook.
“I don’t wanna go.”
Confused, I crouched down. “Go where, sweetheart?”
Her lower lip quivered, and tears filled her big eyes. “I don’t wanna leave again. I wanna stay with you and Mommy.”
A chill crept down my spine. “That’s not going to happen,” I promised, stroking her hair. But then, Claire stepped into the hallway, her face pale, her expression unreadable.
“We need to talk.”
I gently sent Sophie to her room, reassuring her that everything was fine. She sniffled and nodded, but I could feel her tiny heart pounding against mine.
The moment her door shut, Claire turned to me, her voice barely above a whisper.
“We have to take her back, Simon,” she said, her jaw clenched. “She’s… she’s ruining everything! My books, my files, my clothes… she even destroyed my wedding dress!”
“What do you mean?” I frowned.
Claire’s eyes burned. “”She had paint all over her hands…bright blue handprints all over the dress! She’s manipulative. She wants me gone so she can have you all to herself.”
I stared. Hadn’t she once cried with joy when we adopted Sophie?
Claire’s voice was sharp. “Either she goes, or I do.”
I exhaled slowly. “I’m not going to destroy this little girl’s life. She’s my daughter now.”
Claire’s face hardened. She grabbed her keys and slammed the door behind her.
Three Weeks Later
Sophie was at my mother’s house, excited to bake and decorate cookies.
Across from me, Claire sat stiffly, her eyes darting between me and the mediator, Ellen.
“Simon… I let fear take over. I wasn’t ready. But I’ve had time to think, and I want to come back.”
I exhaled, steady. “You didn’t just walk away from me, Claire. You left her. She cried herself to sleep for weeks. She woke up in the night, calling for you.”
Claire’s voice trembled. “I still love you, Simon.”
I met her gaze, unshaken. “I don’t love you anymore.”
The silence that followed was heavy, final. Claire let out a quiet, broken sob.
One Year Later
Sophie still tenses at raised voices. But she laughs more now.
Tonight, as I tucked her in, she curled against my chest, her tiny fingers wrapping around mine.
“You’ll always stay with me, right, Daddy?”
“Always,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
What would you have done?