He Chose the Adopted Daughter, I Chose Divorce

It was our third year of marriage.

The hospital's diagnostic report sat cold and heavy in my palm.

"Permanent loss of fertility."

Seven words. Seven poisoned needles straight through the heart.

Liam held my hand, his grip firm and warm.

"It's okay," he whispered.

His voice was so tender it could melt ice.

"We can always adopt."

Later, at Hope's Harbor Orphanage.

A little girl named Olivia peeked out from behind the director's skirt.

Her eyes were wide—like a scared fawn's.

Timidly, she held out a piece of candy toward me.

"For you, Auntie."

My heart melted on the spot.

I knelt and wrapped my arms around her.

"Let's choose her," I said.

The adoption process moved along without a hitch.

Until it was time to sign.

That's when Olivia reached for the pen.

There, on the back of her right hand.

A small brown birthmark, no bigger than a pea.

My hand shot out. I snatched the pen back.

"No."

Liam stared at me, confused.

"Why?" he asked, his voice tight.

I couldn't look away from that mark.

"It's ugly."

My mother-in-law exploded.

"Ava, have you lost your mind?"

She jabbed a finger toward me.

"You can't have children of your own, and you're still being picky?"

"It's a tiny birthmark—they can laser it off later!"

Liam reached for my hand.

"Sweetheart, don't do this," he pleaded, voice rough. "Olivia's a good kid…"

"Divorce."

The word hung in the air, sucking all the sound out of the room.

Liam's eyes reddened.

"Because of a birthmark?" His voice shook. "Is it really that serious?"

I let out a cold laugh.

"Yes. It is."

My knuckles turned white where I gripped my bag.

"Choose. Her or me."

The director stepped in, nervous. "Ms. Fairsprene, Olivia really is a sweet girl…"

My father-in-law chimed in. "Medical technology is advanced—it's an easy fix…"

I turned to go.

Then Olivia rushed forward and wrapped her small arms around my leg.