Simon and Claire finally have the family they dreamed of… until Claire asks to return her newly adopted daughter. When Claire’s love turns into resentment, Simon faces an impossible choice. But for him there is no doubt. Sophie is now his daughter. And he will fight for her, no matter what it takes.
The first time I saw Sophie, she ran straight into my arms.
It was small, all brown eyes and wild curls, and smelled like baby shampoo and fresh grass. He clung to me as if he already knew, as if he had already decided that I was his.
A smiling girl | Source: Midjourney
A smiling girl | Source: Midjourney
Claire and I had fought for this moment. Years of failed pregnancies. Years of anguish. When we opted for adoption, the wait had been unbearable, months of paperwork, home visits, interviews.
“Are you sure about this?” asked the social worker, Karen.
He was watching us carefully from the other side of the table, with a thick file in front of him. Sophie was sitting on my lap, playing with my wedding ring and singing softly to herself.
A woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
A woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
“Of course,” Claire’s voice was firm and confident. “It’s ours.”
Karen nodded, but she didn’t seem very convinced. I tried not to take it too seriously, because Karen was probably used to families promising those children the whole world and then failing them.
“I think you’re serious,” he said. “But adoption is not just love. It’s about commitment. It’s forever. You are bringing home a girl who has had a difficult start in her life. Sophie will test you. It will go beyond the limits and may even break things. It won’t be on purpose, of course, but she’s just a girl. They have to be prepared for all that.”
A smiling woman sitting in an office | Source: Midjourney
A smiling woman sitting in an office | Source: Midjourney
Claire crossed the table and shook my hand.
Then he smiled at Sophie, who smiled back.
A smiling girl | Source: Midjourney
A smiling girl | Source: Midjourney
“He’s a perfect little angel.”
“Okay,” Karen hesitated. “Congratulations, Claire and Simon! They are officially parents.”
Something changed in my heart. It was the beginning of an eternity.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
Un hombre sonriente | Fuente: Midjourney
I knew something was wrong as soon as I crossed the front door.
There was silence, too much silence, as if the house itself held its breath. Then, out of nowhere, Sophie pounced on me, wrapping her small arms around my legs.
His little voice trembled.
“I don’t want to leave, Dad,” he said.
A man standing in a lobby | Source: Midjourney
A man standing in a lobby | Source: Midjourney
I frowned and knelt down so that we were at eye level.
“¿Irte adónde, cariño?”, le pregunté.
His lower lip trembled. His brown eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t want to leave again. I want to stay with you and mom.”
A disgusted girl | Source: Midjourney
A disgusted girl | Source: Midjourney
I got a chill. Where had I heard it? And why? Sophie was too young to go to school and spent the days with Claire at home. While Claire worked, Sophie played. While Claire had meetings to run to, any of our mothers took care of Sophie.
Who had said what to my daughter?
“That won’t happen,” I promised. “You’re already home, sweet girl.”
A girl playing with her toys | Source: Midjourney
Una niña jugando con sus juguetes | Fuente: Midjourney
Then Claire entered the hallway.
No me miraba a mí, su mirada estaba fija en algún lugar más allá de mi hombro, con los brazos cruzados con tanta fuerza que parecía doloroso. Tenía la cara pálida, incluso inexpresiva. ¿Pero sus ojos? No estaban vacíos. Estaban distantes.
As if something had broken inside her.
“Simon, we need to talk,” he said.
“Why does Sophie say she has to leave?” I replied.
A woman standing in a corridor | Source: Midjourney
A woman standing in a corridor | Source: Midjourney
“Send her to her room. Now, Simon.”
Sophie’s tiny fingers grabbed my shirt as if she could anchor herself to me. I passed a hand down his back.
“Honey, go play for a while, okay? Go to your room. I’ll come pick you up soon and we can have dinner.”
He hesitated. I felt his heart race against mine.
A disgusted girl | Source: Midjourney
Una niña disgustada | Fuente: Midjourney
Then, reluctantly, he nodded and walked away down the corridor, giving us nervous glances before disappearing into his room.
As soon as the door closed, Claire spoke.
“What?” I exclaimed. “What did you just say?”
A man standing in a corridor | Source: Midjourney
A man standing in a corridor | Source: Midjourney
Claire’s arms tightened on her chest.
“I don’t want this anymore, Simon,” he whispered. “The… it’s ruining everything! My books, my files… my clothes… He’s even ruined my wedding dress!”
“What do you mean?” I frowned.
Claire exhaled abruptly, running a hand over her face as if she could barely keep her composure.
A woman standing in a corridor with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney
A woman standing in a corridor with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve taken it off before. I felt nostalgic, I guess… Sophie entered while holding it in her hand and lit up, Simon. He called it dressed as a princess and asked me if I could touch it.”
My chest hurt at the image of a little girl, full of amazement, looking at something beautiful…
“That’s not the problem,” Claire said. “The problem is that my hands were full of paint. I don’t even know how I didn’t see it. But as soon as he touched the fabric…”
A wedding dress on a bed | Source: Midjourney
A wedding dress on a bed | Source: Midjourney
His voice broke into a high-pitched and unfunny laugh.
“Bright blue handprints. All over the damn dress.”
“Claire, he didn’t do it to hurt you,” I sighed.
“You don’t know that, Simon!” Claire’s voice broke. “You don’t see it! She’s a manipulator. She wants me to leave to have you all for her.”
A girl with paint on her hands | Source: Midjourney
A girl with paint on her hands | Source: Midjourney
“Can you hear yourself right now?”
“You always wanted this more than I did.”
The words hit me like a slap.
Did I want this? Just me?
An altered woman in a hallway | Source: Midjourney
Una mujer alterada en un pasillo | Fuente: Midjourney
¿Como si no hubiera sido ella la que empujaba a la adopción, jurando que también era lo que quería? ¿Como si no hubiera llorado de alegría el día que conocimos a Sophie, prometiéndole un hogar para siempre?
I stepped forward, looking on his face for the woman he knew. The woman who had once held Sophie.
“Now you’re safe. We love you very much,” he had told him.
But now? I only saw someone else. Someone who didn’t love our daughter.
A thoughtful man | Source: Midjourney
A thoughtful man | Source: Midjourney
“No lo dices en serio”, le dije en voz baja. “Sólo estás abrumada, y esto es sólo un ajuste. Como dijo Karen. Sophie sólo está probando los límites, claro… pero no es…”.
“Basta, Simon”, la voz de Claire atravesó la mía como una cuchilla. “O se va ella, o me voy yo”.
I didn’t expect an ultimatum. My wife or my daughter?
A man with his hand on his head | Source: Midjourney
A man with his hand on his head | Source: Midjourney
I looked at Claire and she wasn’t joking. His expression was too calm, too sure, as if he had already made peace with this. He had gotten into this conversation knowing that he would leave me little or no option.
I had assumed that I would win.
The woman he had loved, the Claire who had fought for this adoption, who had cried when we brought Sophie home, had left. And instead there was someone who saw a frightened girl as a threat.
Close-up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
Close-up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not going to destroy this girl’s life,” I said, in a uniform voice. Definitive. “She’s my daughter now.”
“Are you really going to choose a stranger before me?” Claire was left with her mouth open.
“Strange? Are you crazy? I choose what is right.”
She let out a sharp and incredulous laugh.
A disgusted woman | Source: Midjourney
A disgusted woman | Source: Midjourney
“¿Crees que eres una especie de héroe? Que yo soy la villana por no querer una hija que… que…”, soltó un sonido estrangulado, pasándose las manos por el pelo.
I didn’t answer. Because I had nothing to say anymore.
Claire passed by my side, took the keys and slammed the door. The squeak of his car as he left the entrance resounded in the night.
And so, without further ado, he disappeared.
A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney
A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney
Three weeks later
The room smelled of stale coffee and cheap air freshener.
Un reloj redondo marcaba las horas en la pared, y cada segundo se extendía entre nosotros como un cañón. Sophie estaba con mi madre, entusiasmada por hacer galletas y decorarlas también.
“Don’t worry, Simon,” my mother said. “I will keep my granddaughter dear and entertained. Go fix your marriage, son.”
A plate of colorful cookies | Source: Midjourney
A plate of colorful cookies | Source: Midjourney
Claire was sitting in front of me. He had his hands rigidly crossed on his lap and his eyes kept blinking between the mediator and me.
I barely recognized Claire as my wife.
No estaba pálida y frenética como la noche en que se marchó. Estaba serena, con los labios pintados de rosa suave, y llevaba los mismos pendientes de perlas que le había regalado en nuestro aniversario.
A woman sitting at the table | Source: Midjourney
A woman sitting at the table | Source: Midjourney
But there was something strange, something forced, as if she had practiced looking at herself regretfully in a mirror before coming here.
“I made a mistake,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “I wasn’t in my right mind.”
Exhalé lentamente y miré a la mediadora, una mujer llamada Ellen, que nos observaba atentamente, con un bolígrafo sobre un bloc de notas.
Claire turned to me, in a softer voice.
A man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
A man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Simon, I… I let fear dominate me. I wasn’t prepared. But I’ve had time to think and I want to go home. I want us to fix ourselves.”
Because, what had to be fixed?
He had planted himself in our house, had looked at our daughter and had called her manipulative. In Claire’s eyes, a four-year-old girl was manipulative?
A disgusted woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
A disgusted woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
He had given me an ultimatum, as if Sophie was something that had to be thrown away.
And now, because a year had passed, because she felt alone, because the reality of her choices had settled, did she want to rewind?
“You didn’t just leave me, Claire,” I said. “You left her.”
A man with one hand on his head | Source: Midjourney
A man with one hand on his head | Source: Midjourney
“I was overwhelmed…” He shuddered.
“We were both,” I interrupted. “But I didn’t leave.”
Claire separó los labios, pero yo no había terminado.
“Do you know what he did after you left?” My voice trembled, but I continued. “She cried until she fell asleep for weeks. He woke up in the middle of the night, calling you. I thought I had done something wrong.”
Una niña disgustada | Fuente: Midjourney
A disgusted girl | Source: Midjourney
“Simon…” Claire’s eyes were glassy.
“You destroyed it,” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “And I won’t let you do it again.”
Ellen cleared her throat.
A mediator sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
A mediator sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Simon, just to be clear, are you saying that reconciliation is not an option?”
Me volví hacia la mediadora.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“I still love you, Simon,” Claire said.
A disgusted woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
Una mujer disgustada sentada en una mesa | Fuente: Midjourney
“I don’t love you anymore,” I met his gaze, unwavering.
The truth settled between us, cold and definitive. Claire let out a broken and silent sob. But I didn’t approach her. I didn’t comfort her.
Porque la mujer a la que una vez había amado había elegido ser una extraña.
Y yo ya había elegido a Sophie.
A man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
A man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
A year later
Sophie continues to shudder at the loud voices.
He continues to hesitate before calling me “dad”, as if he feared that the word itself would make me disappear.
She keeps clinging to me when she’s afraid, when nightmares chase her to my room, when she loses sight of me in the store, when she takes my hand and someone lets her go.
But now he laughs more. It’s lighter. He is learning to trust the type of love that doesn’t go agoin.
A girl sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
A girl sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
Tonight, when I put her in bed, she snuggled up against my chest and her little fingers surrounded mine.
“Won’t you leave me, Dad?”
“Never,” I said, kissing his forehead.
He sighed and his body relaxed against mine.
Finally safe. Finally at home.
