That was it.
I adopted her.
I switched to a steadier schedule. Started a college fund the moment my paycheck allowed it. Made sure she never, ever questioned whether she was wanted. Because I knew what it felt like to grow up unsure of that.
Avery grew into this sharp, funny, stubborn kid. She had my sarcasm and her biological mother’s eyes—something I only knew from a single photograph in her file. She loved science, hated math, and had a habit of pretending she didn’t care when she cared the most.
I didn’t date much. Life felt full already.
Then last year, I met Marisa at work.
She was polished, confident, quick with jokes. Avery was polite but cautious—which I respected. After eight months, things felt stable enough that I bought a ring.
Then one night, Marisa came over acting… off.
