she said. I chose Sophie. Claire left that night. The woman who once swore she wanted this, who had held Sophie and promised forever, was gone. Three weeks later, she wanted to return. “I made a mistake,” she said. But I couldn’t forget what she had done—or what Sophie had suffered. “You didn’t just leave me,” I told her. “You left her.” She cried. I stood firm. One year later,
Sophie still clings to me when she’s scared, still flinches at raised voices. But she laughs more now. She’s learning to believe in love that stays. Last night, as I tucked her in, she whispered, “You won’t leave me, Daddy?” “Never,” I promised. She sighed, curling into me. Finally safe. Finally home.