We Adopted a 4-Year-Old Girl — Just a Month Later, My Wife Demanded, ‘We Should Give Her Back’
At last, Simon and Claire have the family of their dreams… until Claire insists that they return their recently adopted daughter. Simon is faced with an unenviable decision as Claire’s affection transforms into resentment. For him, however, there is no doubt. He now has a daughter named Sophie. And he will do whatever it takes to defend her.
Sophie rushed into my arms when I first saw her.
She smelled of fresh grass and baby shampoo, and she was little, with untamed curls and large brown eyes. She held on to me as if she already knew and had made up her mind that I was hers.
I had battled for this moment with Claire. Years of miscarried children. Heartache for years. The months of paperwork, house visits, and interviews had felt like an intolerable wait when we decided to adopt.
And here we were now.
“You’re sure about this?” said Karen, the social worker.
Across the table, with a big file in front of her, she kept a close eye on us. Sophie sang softly to herself while she played with my wedding band while perched on my knee.
“Of course,” Claire said in a steady, assured tone. “She’s ours.”
Karen seemed unconvinced, but she nodded. Karen was probably accustomed to families promising these kids the world and then disappointing them, so I tried not to take it too seriously.
“I believe you mean that,” she said. However, love isn’t the only factor in adoption. It has to do with dedication. This will never end. You are taking in a child that has experienced a difficult beginning in life. Sophie will put you to the test. She will test limits and possibly even violate them. Of course, it won’t be intentional, but she’s still a child. You must be ready for everything.
Claire grabbed my hand as she stretched across the table.
“We know,” expressed Claire.
She then grinned at Sophie, who returned the smile.
“She’s a perfect little angel.”
Karen hesitantly said, “Alright,” “Then congrats, Simon and Claire! Officially, you are parents.
My heart changed in some way. This marked the start of eternity.
As soon as I entered through the front door, I felt something was up.
The home itself seemed to be holding its breath because it was so quiet. Then Sophie suddenly slammed into me and put her little arms around my legs.
Her tiny voice faltered.
“I don’t want to leave, Daddy,” she said.
I scowled as I knelt down to meet his eye level.
I said, “Leave where, sweetheart?”
Her lower lip trembled. Her large brown eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t want to leave once more. I would like to remain with you and Mommy.
I felt a chilly shiver. From where had she heard this? And why? Sophie spent her days at home with Claire because she was too young to attend school. Sophie played while Claire worked. Either of our mothers watched Sophie while Claire ran to meetings.
To my youngster, who had said what?
“That won’t happen,” I assured her. “You’re home now, sweet girl.”
Then Claire entered the corridor.
Her arms were crossed so tightly that it appeared uncomfortable, and she was staring somewhere past my shoulder rather than at me. She had a blank, pallid face. Her eyes, though? They weren’t deserted. They were far away.
As if she had already been hit by something.
Her words, “Simon, we need to talk,”
“Why is Sophie saying she has to leave?” I retorted.
Claire’s mouth tightened.
“Take her to her chamber. “Now, Simon!”
Like she could secure herself to me, Sophie’s small fingers clamped down on my shirt. I ran a palm across her back.
“Go play for a while, sweetie. Proceed to your room. We can eat dinner together when I come collect you shortly.”
She paused. Her heart was pounding against mine.
After giving me a grudging nod, she padded down the hallway and exchanged anxious looks with me before vanishing into her room.
Claire spoke as her door snapped shut.
“We need to give her back.”
“What?” I let out a gasp. “What did you just say?”
Claire clenched her arms about her chest.
With a murmur, “I don’t want this anymore, Simon,” she said. “Everything is being ruined by her! My paperwork, books, clothes, and even my bridal gown were all destroyed by her.
“What do you mean?” I scowled.
Claire let out a short breath and wiped her cheeks as if she was struggling to preserve her composure.
“Earlier, I had it out. I suppose I was experiencing nostalgia. Simon, Sophie lighted up as she entered while I was holding it. She begged to touch it and referred to it as a princess outfit.
The picture of a young girl, full of wonder, gazing at something lovely made my chest hurt.
“That’s—”
Claire scolded, “That’s not the problem,” “Her hands were covered in paint, which is the issue. I’m not even sure how I missed it. However, as soon as she touched the fabric…”
A bitter, humorless laugh erupted in her voice.
“The handprints are bright blue. Over the fucking dress!”
“Claire, she didn’t do that to hurt you,” I said.
“You don’t know that, Simon!” Claire’s voice broke. “You’re blind to it! She’s cunning. In order to have you all to herself, she wants me gone.
I gazed at her.
“Do you hear yourself right now?”
“You always wanted this more than I did.”
I felt like I was slapped by the words.
This is what I wanted? Just me?
As if she hadn’t been the one advocating for adoption and said it was what she also desired? As if she hadn’t promised Sophie a lifelong home and shed happy tears the day we met her?
I moved forward, looking for the woman I knew in her face. The lady Sophie had been held by before.
“You’re secure now. We adore you,” she had declared.
Now, though? I only saw another person. Someone unloving our daughter.
Silently, “You don’t mean this,” I said. “This is merely an adjustment, and you’re simply overwhelmed. as Karen stated. Sure, Sophie is pushing the envelope, but she’s not.”
Claire said, “Stop it, Simon,” and her voice sliced through my like a knife. “Either she goes, or I do.”
I went cold.
An ultimatum was not what I had anticipated. My child or my wife?
Claire wasn’t bluffing, based on my glance. Her face was too confident, too still, as if she had already accepted it. She knew going into this talk that I would have little to no options.
She had thought she would prevail.
Claire, who had battled for our adoption and wept when we welcomed Sophie home, was no longer the woman I had loved. Someone who perceived a terrified little girl as a danger took her place.
My voice was level as I said, “I’m not going to destroy this little girl’s life.” final. “She’s my daughter now.”
“You’re seriously choosing a stranger over me?” Claire’s jaw dropped.
“A stranger? Have you gone insane? I’m making the proper decision.”
She gave a sharp, incredulous laugh.
“You consider yourself a hero of sorts? She made a strangled noise and ran her hands through her hair, saying, “That I’m the villain for not wanting a child who… who.”
I didn’t answer. so nothing more could be said.
Claire snatched her keys, rushed passed me, and slammed the door. The night reverberated with the screech of her automobile coming out of the driveway.
She was gone in an instant.
Three weeks later, the stench of cheap air freshener and stale coffee filled the room.
Every second stretched like a gulf between us while a round clock ticked away on the wall. Sophie was eager to bake and decorate cookies with my mother.
My mother, “Don’t worry, Simon,” she added. “I’ll continue to cherish and amuse my grandchild. Son, you go and work out your marriage.”
Claire sat opposite me now. Her eyes kept darting between the mediator and me, and her fists were clasped rigidly in her lap.
Claire was my wife, but I hardly recognized her.
Unlike the night she left, she wasn’t pallid and in a panic. She wore the same pearl earrings I had given her on our anniversary, her lips painted a gentle pink, and she seemed calm.
However, something seemed strange, forced, as if she had practiced being remorseful in front of the mirror before coming here.
She finally broke the stillness by admitting, “I made a mistake,” “I wasn’t in my right mind.”
I let out a leisurely breath while looking at Ellen, the mediator, who was keeping a close eye on us both with her pen resting over a legal pad.
Claire turned to face me, speaking in a softer, more kind tone.
“I let fear get the better of me, Simon. I wasn’t prepared. However, I’ve had time to reflect, and I’m ready to return home. I wish to make us better.
I said nothing.
Because what needed to be fixed?
She had termed our daughter manipulative while she was standing in our house and glancing at her. Claire considered a four-year-old to be manipulative?
As if Sophie were something to be discarded, she had issued me an ultimatum.
And now she wanted to go back in time since a year had gone by, she was lonely, and the consequences of her decisions had set in?
Can you undo it?
“You didn’t just leave me, Claire,” I replied. “You left her.”
She winced, “I was overwhelmed…”
I said, “We both were,” “But I didn’t walk away.”
I wasn’t finished, but Claire’s lips parted.
“Do you know what she did after you left?” Even when my voice faltered, I continued. For weeks, she sobbed herself to sleep. She called for you when she woke up in the middle of the night. She believed she had done something incorrectly.
“Simon…” Claire’s eyes had gone blurry.
I gave a headshake.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and said, “You broke her,” “And I won’t let you do it again.”
Quiet.
Ellen cleared her throat.
“Simon, just to clarify, you’re saying that reconciliation is not an option?”
I looked over at the mediator.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“I still love you, Simon,” Claire assured him.
“I don’t love you anymore,” I said, looking her in the eye.
The harsh, final truth was established between us. Claire sobbed quietly and brokenly. I didn’t reach for her, though. I didn’t give her consolation.
Because the woman I once loved had decided to remain anonymous.
And Sophie was already my choice.
Even after a year, Sophie still recoils at loud noises.
Even now, she hesitates before addressing me as “Daddy,” as if the word alone will cause me to vanish.
When she’s afraid, when she has dreams that drive her to my room, when she can’t see me in the store, or when she’s holding my hand and someone lets go, she still clings to me.
She’s laughing more lately, though. She weighs less. She is coming to believe in the kind of love that endures.
She nestled up to my chest tonight as I put her into bed, her little fingers around mine.
“You won’t leave me, Daddy?”
“Never,” I replied, planting a kiss on her forehead.
With a sigh, she eased into my embrace.
Safe at last. At last, home.
How would you have responded?
