Simon and Claire finally had the family they dreamed of—until Claire changed her mind.

The first time I saw Sophie, she ran into my arms, wide brown eyes full of trust. Claire and I had fought for this moment. Years of heartbreak, endless paperwork. Now, here we were. “She’s ours,” Claire had said.

Weeks later, I stepped into an eerily silent home. Sophie clung to me, whispering, “I don’t want to leave, Daddy.”

Claire stood stiffly, arms crossed. “We need to talk. Send her to her room.”

After Sophie left, Claire’s voice wavered. “We need to give her back.”

Shock jolted through me. “What?”

“She’s ruining everything! My books, my files… even my wedding dress!”

“Claire, she’s a child—our child.”

Claire’s face hardened. “Either she goes, or I do.”

I chose Sophie.

Claire left.

Three weeks later, we sat across from each other in a mediator’s office. “I made a mistake, Simon,” Claire said. “I want to come home.”

I stayed silent.

“She cried for you,” I finally said. “She thought she did something wrong.”

Tears welled in Claire’s eyes. “Simon…”

“I don’t love you anymore,” I said, final.

A year later, Sophie still hesitates before calling me “Daddy.” She still clings to me when she’s scared. But she laughs more now, lighter, safe.

“You won’t leave me, Daddy?”

“Never,” I whisper, holding her close. She sighs, finally home.