After six exhausting years of trying to conceive, I was ready to give up. My husband, Daniel, stayed hopeful, but I couldn’t face another Mother’s Day filled with reminders of what I didn’t have. That morning, he said he had a surprise. I expected pastries—not a baby. He walked in holding a newborn girl and said, “This is Evie. She needs a mom.”

I was overwhelmed, but instantly in love. Then came a call from Lacey—Evie’s birth mother. Daniel had promised her my apartment and manipulated her into giving up her baby. He’d cheated on me, lied, and broken every promise.

I called a lawyer. Daniel hadn’t adopted Evie, and what he did might’ve been illegal. But I couldn’t let her go. I spoke to Lacey and asked if she’d consider a legal adoption—with just me. She said yes.

I divorced Daniel. Evie wasn’t his gift—she chose me. And I chose her.