Adopting Nicholas was the answer to everything my husband Camden and I had dreamed of, but then a wealthy couple arrived, offering him everything we couldn’t. I feared we’d lost him — until he made a choice no one expected.

Here’s the thing: I never thought life would turn out this way. I always imagined myself in a cozy house filled with the sound of little feet running across the hardwood floors and laughter echoing through the halls.

But that dream got cut short the day my doctor sat me down and said the word “infertile.” It felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me, leaving me to wonder if my marriage would even survive the weight of that news.

I was terrified Camden would leave me. After all, he had every right to want kids of his own, right? But he surprised me in the most beautiful way. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and said, “Family isn’t just about biology. Maybe there’s another way.”

And that’s when the idea of adoption took root in my heart.

We started the process slowly. Foster care visits, endless paperwork, and meetings with social workers. Camden was a rock through it all, never losing faith, even when I did. Then, one day, everything changed.

We met Nicholas.

He was five, with the biggest brown eyes and a shy smile that made my heart do flips. The moment I saw him, something inside me whispered, this is your son, Zelda.

He barely said a word that day, just clung to his toy truck and peeked up at us every now and then. But I could feel it. We connected in a way that went beyond words.

“Do you like trucks, buddy?” Camden asked him, crouching down to his level. Nicholas nodded, not saying a word, but his eyes lit up for just a second. That was enough for me.

Months passed, and we were so close to making him ours. The paperwork, the home visits — everything was falling into place. Then, out of nowhere, everything took a turn.

“We’ve had another family express interest in Nicholas,” our social worker, Mrs. Jameson, said one afternoon. “They’re quite wealthy and very interested in adopting him.”

My stomach dropped. “But… we’re so close. We’ve been with him for months,” I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

“I understand, Zelda,” Mrs. Jameson replied. “But they have the right to apply as well. Nicholas will be given time with both families and ultimately, it will be up to him.”

That’s when we met them. The Featheringhams.

They strolled into the foster home as if they owned the place — polished, perfect, with an air of entitlement that filled the room.

Mrs. Featheringham, tall and blonde, with a diamond necklace glittering around her throat, looked me up and down as if I were something unpleasant she’d found on the bottom of her shoe. Her husband stood beside her, equally well-groomed, surveying Camden and me like we were unworthy competition.

“I have to say,” Mrs. Featheringham began, her voice dripping with condescension, “I’m surprised someone like you would think you have a chance. I mean, just look at yourself—plain, middle-class. What exactly do you have to offer Nicholas?”

I could feel the heat rising to my face, but I forced myself to stay calm. Camden’s hand tightened around mine, steadying me.

She wasn’t done. “We can give Nicholas everything—the best private schools, vacations across the globe, a life of luxury. What do you have? A little house in the suburbs? What’s he going to do there, play in the backyard while you struggle to make ends meet?”

Her words were sharp, meant to cut deep, and they did. I could feel Camden tense beside me, but I held him back with a slight squeeze of his hand.

“We’re the kind of family a child like Nicholas deserves,” she continued, her voice cold. “You should do what’s best for him and step aside. He’ll never choose you. Why would he? Just look at the difference between us.”

Camden couldn’t hold back any longer. “We might not have all the money in the world,” he said, his voice calm but firm, “but what we can offer Nicholas is love, stability, and a real home. That’s what matters.”

Mrs. Featheringham scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Love doesn’t pay for college or vacations. Be realistic.”

Mrs. Jameson, sensing the rising tension, stepped in. “Both families will have a week with Nicholas. After that, he’ll make his decision.”

A week. One week to convince this little boy that we could give him the love and life he deserved.

I took a deep breath and nodded, but inside, my heart was breaking. What if Nicholas didn’t choose us?

When our week with Nicholas finally arrived, I was filled with a mix of excitement and dread. We’d heard all about his time with the Featheringhams: fancy dinners, amusement parks, and a water park.