When my ex-wife demanded the money I saved for our late son be given to her stepson, I thought grief had dulled my hearing. But as I sat across from her and her smug husband, their audacity crystal clear, I realized this wasn’t just about money — it was about defending my son’s legacy.
I sat on Peter’s bed, and the room was too quiet now. His things were everywhere. Books, medals, a half-finished sketch he’d left on the desk. Peter loved to draw when he wasn’t busy reading or figuring out some complicated problem that made my head spin.
A boy drawing | Source: Pexels
“You were too smart for me, kid,” I muttered, picking up a photo frame from his nightstand. He had that crooked grin, the one he’d flash whenever he thought he was outsmarting me. He usually was.
This picture was taken just before my smart boy got into Yale. I still couldn’t believe it sometimes. But he never got to go. The drunk driver made sure of that.
A man mourning his loved one | Source: Pexels
I rubbed my temples and sighed. The grief hit me in waves, like it had since November. Some days, I could almost function. Other days, like today, it swallowed me whole.
The knock on the door brought me back. Susan. She’d left a voicemail earlier. “We need to talk about Peter’s fund,” she’d said. Her voice was sweet but always too practiced, too fake. I didn’t call back. But, now, here she was.
A woman on her phone | Source: Pexels
I opened the door. She was dressed sharp as always, but her eyes were cold.
“Can I come in?” Susan asked, stepping past me before I could answer.
I sighed and motioned toward the living room. “Make it quick.”
She sat down, making herself at home. “Look,” she said, her tone was casual like this was no big deal. “We know Peter had a college fund.”
A woman on her couch | Source: Pexels
I immediately knew where this was going. “You’re kidding, right?”
Susan leaned forward, smirking. “Think about it. The money’s just sitting there. Why not put it to good use? Ryan could really benefit.”
“That money was for Peter,” I snapped. My voice rose before I could stop it. “It’s not for your stepson.”
Susan gave an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. “Don’t be like this. Ryan is family too.”
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Family? Peter barely knew him. You barely knew Peter.”
Her face reddened, but she didn’t deny it. “Let’s meet for coffee tomorrow and discuss it. You, Jerry, and me.”
That evening, the memory of that conversation lingered as I sat back down on Peter’s bed. I looked around his room again, my heart aching. How did we get here?
A man sitting in his late son’s bedroom | Source: Midjourney
Peter had always been mine to raise. Susan left when he was 12. She didn’t want the “responsibility,” as she’d called it. “It’s better for Peter this way,” she’d said like she was doing us both a favor.
For years, it was just me and Peter. He was my world, and I was his. I’d wake up early to make his lunch, help him with homework after school, and sit in the stands cheering at his games. Susan didn’t bother. She’d send a card for his birthday, sometimes. No gifts, just a card with her name scrawled at the bottom.
A birthday card | Source: Pexels
That’s what made the one summer with Susan and Jerry so hard. Peter wanted to bond with them, even if I didn’t trust it. But when he came back, he was different. Quieter. One night, I finally got him to talk.
“They don’t care about me, Dad,” he’d said softly. “Jerry said I’m not his responsibility, so I ate cereal for dinner every night.”
I clenched my fists but didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to make it worse. But I never sent him back.
A sad boy | Source: Pexels
Peter didn’t mind, or at least he never showed it. He loved school, and he loved dreaming about the future. “One day, Dad,” he’d say, “we’re going to Belgium. We’ll see the museums, the castles. And don’t forget the beer monks!”
“Beer monks?” I’d laugh. “You’re a little young for that, aren’t you?”
“It’s research,” he’d reply with a grin. “Yale’s going to love me.”
A happy teenage boy | Source: Pexels
And they did. I remember the day the acceptance letter came. He opened it at the kitchen table, his hands shaking, and then he yelled so loud I thought the neighbors might call the cops. I’d never been prouder. Now, it was all gone.
That night, I barely slept, preparing for the conversation with Susan.
The next morning, I walked into the coffee shop, spotting them immediately. Susan was scrolling through her phone, looking bored. Jerry sat across from her, stirring his coffee so loudly it grated on my nerves. They didn’t even notice me at first.
A couple drinking coffee | Source: Freepik
I stood by their table. “Let’s get this over with.”
Susan looked up, her practiced smile snapping into place. “Oh, good. You’re here. Sit, sit.” She gestured like she was doing me a favor.
I slid into the chair across from them, saying nothing. I wanted them to speak first.
Jerry leaned back, his smug grin plastered across his face. “We appreciate you meeting us. We know this isn’t easy.”
A man in a cafe | Source: Pexels
I raised an eyebrow. “No, it’s not.”
Susan jumped in, her tone syrupy sweet. “We just think… it’s the right thing to do, you know? Peter’s fund — it’s not being used. And Ryan, well, he’s got so much potential.”
Jerry nodded, folding his arms. “College is expensive, man. You of all people should understand that. Why let that money sit there when it could actually help someone?”
A man talking to a serious woman | Source: Midjourney
“Someone?” I repeated, my voice low. “You mean your stepson?”
Susan sighed like I was being difficult. “Ryan is part of the family. Peter would have wanted to help.”
“Don’t you dare speak for Peter,” I snapped. “He barely knew Ryan. And let’s not pretend you cared about Peter either.”
Susan stiffened, her smile faltering. “That’s not fair.”
A serious woman talking to a man in a cafe | Source: Midjourney
“No?” I leaned forward, keeping my voice steady. “Let’s talk about fair. Fair is raising a kid, showing up for them, being there when it counts. I did that for Peter. You didn’t. You sent him to me because you were too busy with your ‘new family.’ And now you think you’re entitled to his legacy?”
Jerry’s smugness cracked for a second. He recovered quickly. “Look, it’s not about entitlement. It’s about doing the right thing.”
A smiling man in a cafe | Source: Freepik
“The right thing?” I laughed bitterly. “Like the summer Peter stayed with you? Remember that? Fourteen years old, and you wouldn’t even buy him dinner. You let him eat cereal while you and Susan had steak.”
Jerry’s face reddened, but he said nothing.
“That’s not true,” Susan said quickly, her voice shaky. “You’re twisting things.”
An annoyed woman in a cafe | Source: Midjourney
“No, I’m not,” I said sharply. “Peter told me himself. He tried to connect with you two. He wanted to believe you cared. But you didn’t.”
Jerry slammed his coffee cup onto the table. “You’re being ridiculous. Do you know how hard it is to raise a kid these days?”
“I do,” I shot back. “I raised Peter without a dime from either of you. So don’t you dare lecture me.”
An annoyed man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
The coffee shop had gone quiet. People were staring, but I didn’t care. I stood, glaring at both of them. “You don’t deserve a cent of that fund. It’s not yours. It never will be.”
Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked out.
Back home, I sat in Peter’s room again. The confrontation replayed in my mind, but it didn’t make the ache in my chest any lighter.
A man in his son’s room | Source: Midjourney
I picked up his photo from the desk — the one of us on his birthday. “They don’t get it, buddy,” I said softly. “They never did.”
I looked around the room, taking in the books, the drawings, the little pieces of him that still felt so alive here. My eyes landed on the map of Europe tacked to his wall. Belgium was circled in bright red marker.
A map of Europe | Source: Freepik
“We were supposed to go,” I whispered. “You and me. The museums, the castles, the beer monks.” I chuckled softly, my voice breaking. “You really had it all planned out.”
The ache in my chest deepened, but then something shifted. A new thought, a new resolve.
I opened my laptop and logged into the 529 Plan account. As I stared at the balance, I knew what to do. That money wasn’t for Ryan. It wasn’t for anyone else. It was for Peter. For us.
A man on his laptop | Source: Freepik
“I’m doing it,” I said aloud. “Belgium. Just like we said.”
A week later, I was on a plane, Peter’s photo tucked safely in my jacket pocket. The seat beside me was empty, but it didn’t feel that way. I gripped the armrest as the plane lifted off, my heart pounding.
“Hope you’re here with me, kid,” I whispered, glancing at his picture.
A man on a plane | Source: Freepik
The trip was everything we’d dreamed of. I walked through grand museums, stood in awe at towering castles, and even visited a brewery run by monks. I imagined Peter’s excitement, crooked grin, and endless questions at every stop.
On the last night, I sat by the canal, the city lights reflecting on the water. I pulled out Peter’s photo and held it up to the view.
A man sitting by the canal | Source: Pexels
“This is for you,” I said quietly. “We made it.”
For the first time in months, the ache in my chest felt lighter. Peter was gone, but he was with me. And this — this was our dream. I wouldn’t let anyone take it away.
A man sitting by a canal | Source: Midjourney
Devastated mom wants to adopt, spots girl at adoption agency strikingly similar to her late daughter
The dimly lit living room that was once filled with a child’s laughter reminded Eleanor over and over again of her profound loss and her inability to move forward. She and her husband, Joseph, lost their daughter Ava to cancer and nothing has been the same ever since. The grief and the pain that settled into Eleanor’s hard was extremely hard to even try to overcome. Eventually, the loss affected her realtionship with Joseph and the two split.
All Eleanor could wish for was to be a mother again.
Five years after Ava’s passing, she decided to adopt a child. Spending hours and hours on adoption sites, Eleanor’s attention was caught by the image of a young girl named Charlotte. This girl’s resemblance to Ava was incredible. They not only had the same hair color, but it seemed to Eleanor that they also shared facial features.
Without hesitating even a bit, Eleanor called Grace Adoption Services.
“Hello, this is Grace Adoption Services. I’m Samantha. How can I assist you today?” a warm voice came on the other end.
“My name is Eleanor. I’m hoping to adopt, and a little girl on your website has caught my attention,” she said, scratching her head.
“We’ll set up an appointment for you to come in and meet us. It’s always best if we do this in person.”
Eleanor was quick to agree. “I’m ready to take that step,” she said. “I want to make a difference in a child’s life.”
On the day of the meeting, Eleanor waited nervously at Samantha’s office.
“It’s wonderful to meet you in person,” Samantha greeted her. “I’ve read your application and can already tell you’d be an amazing parent.”
Eleanor was asked of the reasons she wanted to adopt and plenty of other questions about her background. She was also asked about her partner, with Samantha telling her that two-parent household had greater chances of adopting a child.
Eleanor explained that her relationship with her ex crumbled after the loss of their daughter, but the two were still in contact and trying to mend things between them.
Eleanor then left the agency with high hopes of being able to adopt Charlotte. She was so certain that her wish of becoming a mother again would come true that she even set a child’s room and bought everything Charlotte would need if she becomes her daughter.
What followed was a meeting at the park between Eleanor and Charlotte. Once she laid eyes on her in person, Eleanor was once again struck by the child’s resemblance with late Ava. She bought some coloring books and markers which Charlotte accepted with a quiet “Thank you” as a response.
The day was filled with fun and laughter, and Charlotte even told Eleanor that she would love her to be her mom because she didn’t want to be in the foster care any longer.
In the following weeks, Eleanor and Charlotte developed a stronger bond as Charlotte visited Eleanor’s home, explored her new bedroom, and shared meals with her.
Finally, Eleanor called Joseph. “Ellie,” he greeted warmly. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“I have some big news to share. Can we meet tomorrow?” she told him.
The following day, Eleanor explained to Joseph that she wanted to adopt. “I can see this means a lot to you. It’s good to see you so alive again,” he responded. “I can’t let grief consume me,” she said. “We can’t let grief consume us.”
In the days to come, Joseph joined Eleanor and Charlotte to dinners and visited them in the house.
Charlotte was happy in what she hoped would be her forever home. “I’ve never had a mom like you. I don’t want to go back to foster care,” she told Eleanor. “I will be, sweetheart. I’ll be your mom forever.”
Finally, the adoption day arrived and Eleanor invited her closest family and friends to witness the beautiful moment. Joseph was also there.
At the hearing, Eleanor and Charlotte stood hand in hand before the judge as he finalized the adoption. Eleanor’s eyes filled with joyful tears as she looked at Charlotte, realizing they were beginning a new chapter together.
In her new environment, Charlotte flourished, serving as a reminder of the love Eleanor and Joseph once lost and the abundant love they still had to offer.
Being part of their lives, Charlotte brought Eleanor and Joseph closer together, and they rekindled their relationship.
One day, out of the blue, Eleanor received a call from Samantha. Her voice sounded strange and Eleanor heart skipped a beat because she could sense something was wrong.
“Eleanor, Charlotte’s biological mother has contacted me,” the adoption agency owner revealed. “She claimed that Joseph could be Charlotte’s biological father.”
“What? Charlotte could be Ava’s half-sister?” Eleanor whispered.
“We need to confront Joseph about this,” Samantha advised. “If he denies it, a paternity test may be necessary.”
“Why does it matter if she gave the kid up?”
“She said that the affair was quick, but if the biological dad suddenly wants to be in the picture, she may want to challenge the adoption,” Samantha explained. “I just want to be sure nothing can mess with Charlotte’s happiness.”
Eleanor hung up the phone and approached Joseph who was gardening outside. She told him what Samantha told her and asked him if he had had an affair with someone. Joseph confessed that he had a one-night thing with a woman whom he met in a support group for grieving parents he had joined after Ava’s death and their separation.
“It was a terrible mistake,” he confessed.
“You mean to say that you might be Charlotte’s father then if this woman gave her up for adoption?” Eleanor asked in horror.
“I left the group soon after she told me she was pregnant. But she might have given the child up for adoption,” Joseph nodded.
Eleanor, overwhelmed, asked about a paternity test which Joseph agreed without hesitation, “I will. I’ll own up to this all the way.”
While they waited for the results, Eleanor spoke to Samantha constantly. “In most jurisdictions, once an adoption is complete, it is generally irreversible,” her now-friend explained softly. When the results finally came Eleanor had a hard time breathing as they were opening the envelope that could change their lives yet again. She read it slowly, “Joseph is…not Charlotte’s father! Thank God!”
Upon hearing this news, Eleanor saw Charlotte’s resemblance to Ava as a miraculous coincidence and a second chance for her family. Through Charlotte, Ava could forever remain a part of them.
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