Making It Forever

December 28, 2025 – A quiet Sunday morning in a suburban Midwest neighborhood, three days after Christmas

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December 28, 2025. Dawn breaks clear and cold, the sun casting long shadows across snow that refuses to fully melt despite yesterday's warmth. The temperature has dropped back into the twenties overnight, leaving a thin crust of ice on every surface that sparkles like crushed diamonds.

Johnathan stands in the kitchen, barefoot on cold tile, staring out the window with a steaming mug of coffee clutched in both hands. He's been awake since 4:30 a.m., mind churning relentlessly. He paces—kitchen to living room, back to kitchen, pause at the window, repeat. The house is silent except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the creak of floorboards under his restless feet.

Johnathan's secret thought: Five days. Five days ago Angel was a stranger on a curb, and now I can't imagine waking up without knowing she's here, safe, on our couch. But what if they take her away? What if CPS decides we're not qualified, too young, too rushed? What if she's placed with strangers who don't see how extraordinary she is? I've lost people before—relationships, opportunities—but this... losing her would break something in me I didn't know existed until Wednesday night.

Liora appears in the doorway, still in flannel pajamas. Her red hair is a tousled mess, eyes still heavy with sleep. She pauses, studying him.

What's bothering you this morning? I've never seen you so preoccupied with your thoughts like this. You've been pacing for at least twenty minutes—I could hear you from the bedroom.

Johnathan sets his mug down heavily, turns to face her. His expression is raw—vulnerable in a way that makes Liora's chest tighten.

It's Angel. You told me CPS might want to lock her up in that level one facility—or place her with foster parents who are complete strangers. That terrifies me, Liora. In just five days she's become... she's become essential. Like she was always supposed to be here. When she called me 'Dad' yesterday while we were cooking, I felt something click into place that I didn't even know was missing. I can't imagine her not being here. I physically can't picture this house without her in it.

Liora's secret thought: He's falling apart. This strong, steady man who's held me together through my own chaos is coming undone at the thought of losing her. And God, I feel exactly the same way. She's ours already. How do you un-love someone?

Liora crosses to the coffee maker, pours herself a cup, adds cream and sugar with deliberate slowness—giving herself time to find the right words. She leans against the counter facing him.

Me too. It's the strangest thing—we've only been a family for days, but it feels like forever. Like she's always been part of our story, we just didn't know it yet. When I watch you with her and Mia together, I see the family I dreamed about when I was trapped in my marriage. The one I thought I'd never find.

She pauses, takes a sip, sets the mug down.

Maybe... maybe we could become foster parents? Go through the certification, get approved, and then request that she be placed with us specifically? At least that way she'd stay close while we figure out the long-term plan.

(shaking his head, voice urgent) But even if we did become foster parents, there's no guarantee she'd be placed with us. They could send her anywhere in the county—or hell, the state. Foster care is temporary by design. I don't want temporary. I want permanent. I want... I want to adopt her, Liora. Legally. Permanently. Make her ours in every possible way.

The words hang in the air between them. Liora's eyes widen.

(speaking faster now, as if he's been rehearsing this) I don't know exactly how it works—I'm sure her mother's parental rights will have to be severed if they haven't been already, and there are probably legal hoops and court dates and social worker evaluations. But that's what I want. What I need. And... and if we're going to do that, we should do it right. Let's get married, Liora. Soon. I'll adopt Mia and Angel at the same time. We'll be a real family—legal, official, permanent. How does that sound?

Liora's secret thought: Did he just... did he just propose? Sort of? In our kitchen at dawn over concerns about losing Angel? This is the most unromantic romantic moment of my life and somehow it's perfect. But I can't say yes without—

(voice soft but steady) Wow. You've really thought this through. Things keep moving at warp speed with us—my head is constantly spinning trying to keep up. But there's something we have to talk about first. Something Dr. Richardson warned me about yesterday when Angel was in the car.

(concerned, moving closer) She warned you? About what? Is Angel okay?

Liora takes a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. This is delicate territory—accusation disguised as caution, love tangled with fear.

You and Angel have bonded so beautifully. She calls you Dad, lights up when you walk in a room, follows you around like you hung the moon. I love watching it—it fills my heart. But Dr. Richardson said we can't ignore the reality of the life Angel has lived up until now. The trauma she's carrying. She grew up in a world where sex was used to get resources, where sexuality was a tool for securing affection and safety, where love and sex were completely confused with each other.

She meets his eyes, needing him to really hear this.

Dr. Richardson warned me that Angel might try to sexualize her relationship with you. She might attempt to seduce you—not out of malice or manipulation in the way we usually think of it, but because that's the only model she has for securing male protection and affection. She said most men don't see it coming, are completely caught off guard, and don't know how to handle it when it happens. She said that in step-parent situations with traumatized teenage girls, there's statistical evidence this pattern emerges. That... that concerns me, Johnathan. It keeps me up at night.

Johnathan's secret thought: Oh. Oh God. I hadn't even—of course. Of course that's a risk. How did I not think about that? Because I've been seeing her as my daughter, not as... but she doesn't have that framework yet. She doesn't know how to be a daughter without also being... Christ. This is more complicated than I realized.

Johnathan is quiet for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, he laughs—not cruelly, but with a kind of weary recognition. He runs a hand through his hair.

You know, I usually hate talking about exes—we've both agreed to leave that stuff in the past. But this feels relevant, so let me tell you something about my last serious relationship before you. My ex was what I call an 'inside-out person.' The things most people would consider private—secret thoughts, intimate desires, personal boundaries—she had all of that turned completely outward, on display for anyone watching.

He leans against the counter beside her, staring at his coffee.

She was a total attention addict—desperately needed to be at the center of whatever was happening. She would deliberately create drama just to position herself in the middle of it. When we'd go out anywhere and there were attractive men around, she'd completely ignore me and work to capture their attention instead. She'd say wildly inappropriate things, behave in overtly sexual ways, push every boundary just to see if she could get a reaction. It caused me incredible pain and eventually destroyed our relationship completely.

But here's the thing—in the process of surviving that relationship, I learned a lot about what goes on inside the mind of a woman who uses sexuality as a tool for getting attention and validation. I studied it, Liora. I read books, went to therapy myself, joined online forums for partners of people with personality disorders. I learned to recognize the patterns, the triggers, the manipulations—and more importantly, how to respond without either enabling the behavior or causing shame.

He turns to face her fully, taking her hands in his.

So believe me when I tell you—Angel can't possibly do anything I haven't encountered before in some form. I'm not naive about this. I'm not going in blind. If she tests boundaries, if she tries to sexualize our relationship, I'll recognize it immediately. And I'll handle it carefully. I'll set clear boundaries without shaming her, redirect her need for affection into appropriate channels, model what healthy father-daughter love actually looks like. I'll find a way to give her the affection and validation she's craving in ways that are safe for everyone. You can trust me on that, Liora. I promise you.

Liora's secret thought: The relief flooding through me is almost physical. I've been carrying this terror since yesterday—images of worst-case scenarios playing on loop, wondering if I was crazy to bring a traumatized teenage girl into a house with the man I just started sleeping with. But he gets it. He actually gets it. And more than that, he's prepared. Maybe the Angels really did know what they were doing.

(tears in her eyes) Oh my God, I feel so much better now. That fear has been absolutely torturing me since Dr. Richardson said it. I've been playing out these awful scenarios, wondering if I was being irresponsible, questioning everything. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being prepared. Thank you for being... you.

She squeezes his hands, then releases them to wipe her eyes.

So... should we talk to Angel? See what she actually wants? I mean, we're making all these plans about adoption and forever, but she might not even want to be adopted. She might prefer foster care, or want to age out independently, or still be holding onto hope that her mom will get clean and they'll reunite. We should probably ask her before we get too far down this road.

Johnathan glances toward the living room, where they can hear the soft sounds of stirring—Angel and Mia both waking, murmured conversation, giggles.

(calling out) Girls! Can you come in here please? We have some important things to talk about.

Angel appears first, wearing borrowed pajamas, hair messy from sleep. Mia trails behind her, dragging her favorite stuffed bunny, rubbing her eyes. They settle at the kitchen table—Angel cautious, Mia curious.

Angel's secret thought: Here it comes. I knew it. I KNEW it was too good to be true. They're going to tell me I have to leave. CPS found a placement, or they decided I'm too much work, or they realized they don't actually want a messed-up teenager in their perfect little family. Don't cry. Don't cry. At least hold it together until you're alone.

(sitting down across from Angel, voice gentle) Angel, Johnathan and I have been talking about your situation—about how to handle you being here, what the future might look like. And we have some pretty big plans we want to share with you.

Angel's eyes instantly fill with tears. Her shoulders hunch inward, body language closing off, preparing for impact. She stares at the table.

Angel's secret thought: Don't look at them. If you don't look at them, maybe you can pretend this isn't happening. Maybe you can—

(leaning forward, voice urgent and warm) Oh no, sweetheart. No, no, no. This isn't bad news. Angel, look at me. Please look at me.

She raises her eyes slowly, tears spilling over.

Your coming here is the best thing that's ever happened to me. To us. I love you more with every single day that passes. We don't ever want you to leave. So... if it's okay with you... if this is something you want too... we want to adopt you. Legally. Permanently. Make you part of our family forever.

Angel's face transforms in an instant—from braced devastation to stunned disbelief to explosive joy. She cups both hands over her mouth, eyes going wide, a sound between a sob and a laugh escaping.

Angel's secret thought: What? WHAT? Did he just—did they just say ADOPT? Like real adoption? Like permanent forever adoption? Like I'd be their actual daughter? This is—this is—oh my God, I can't breathe, this is everything I've ever wanted and I didn't even let myself hope for it because hoping hurt too much and—

Angel, we know we're a young couple. If you were actually my biological daughter, I would have had you when I was like ten years old, which is obviously impossible. We're not that much older than you. But even though we're young and still figuring things out ourselves, we think we could be good parents to you. We want to try. What do you think? Is this something you want?

Angel is openly crying now, but they're unmistakably happy tears. She nods frantically, words tumbling out between sobs.

Yes! Yes, yes, yes! I want this so much. I want to be part of this family. I'll be the best daughter and the best big sister ever, I promise. I'll do whatever it takes. Let's do it. Please. Please let's do it.

Mia, who has been watching with the intense focus only a five-year-old can muster, suddenly breaks into the biggest smile imaginable. She starts clapping her hands, bouncing in her seat.

Angel's staying FOREVER! She's gonna be my real sister! Forever and ever!

Mia's secret thought: Angel is staying! She's not going away like I was scared about! Now I have a big sister forever and we can share everything and she can teach me things and protect me and we'll have so much fun and—

Johnathan reaches across the table, taking Angel's hand in his. Liora does the same from the other side. The four of them form a connected circle.

I don't know exactly how all this will work yet. We'll have to go to court, probably multiple times. There will be social worker visits, home studies, background checks, therapy requirements, legal paperwork. It's going to be complicated and sometimes frustrating. But Liora and I are completely committed to this. To you.

He pauses, his expression growing more serious but no less warm.

And Angel, I want you to understand something important. Life can be difficult sometimes. There will be hard days—days when you struggle, days when we struggle, days when we all struggle together. There will be family conflicts and growing pains and moments when we have to work through really tough stuff. Being a family doesn't mean everything is suddenly perfect. It means we commit to working through the imperfect parts together, with effort and patience and a whole lot of love. Can you commit to that too?

(wiping tears, voice steadier now) Yes. I know I'm going to mess up sometimes. I know my past isn't just going to disappear. But I want to try. I want to be part of something real. I want to be your daughter.

Angel's secret thought: I'm not going to screw this up. I'm NOT. Whatever it takes, however hard I have to work, I'm going to be worthy of this. I'm going to make them proud. I'm going to prove that choosing me wasn't a mistake.

Liora's secret thought: My family is growing in ways I never imagined. A week ago I was a single mom struggling to make ends meet, and now I have a partner and two daughters and a future that actually feels bright. Thank you, Angels. Thank you for bringing her to us.

Johnathan's secret thought: This is real. We're really doing this. In a few months, Angel will legally be my daughter. Mia will legally be my daughter. Liora will be my wife. Everything I never knew I needed is sitting right here at this table. Whatever challenges come, we'll face them together.

(tugging on Liora's sleeve) Mommy! Can Angel move into my room? I want my big sister right next to me so we can talk at night and she can tell me stories and we can have sister time!

(laughing softly, smoothing Mia's hair) Oh honey, Angel is a teenager. She needs her own space and privacy to grow. Remember that fourth bedroom—the one we've been using for storage and junk? We're going to clean it out completely, move all that stuff to the garage or donate it, and make it Angel's room. Her own special space. Then she won't have to sleep on the couch anymore.

(to Liora) Before you throw anything away, let me go through it first. Some of that stuff might be useful or have sentimental value I forgot about.

(smirking) Your collection of old computer cables and manuals from 2010? Very sentimental.

(mock-defensive) Those cables might be useful someday! You never know when you'll need a firewire adapter!

Angel's secret thought: They're joking around like normal families do. Teasing each other. Being silly. This is what normal looks like. I'm going to learn how to do this. I'm going to learn how to be normal.

The family spends the morning in a flurry of productive chaos. Johnathan and Liora tackle the junk room while Angel and Mia sort through items, creating piles: keep, donate, trash, "Johnathan needs to decide." Old exercise equipment gets hauled to the garage. Boxes of forgotten books get stacked for donation. Ancient electronics that haven't worked in years go into trash bags.

By noon, they're filthy and exhausted but the room is empty. Liora pulls up furniture websites on her phone while everyone votes on bedroom sets. Angel gravitates toward something simple and modern—clean lines, soft gray wood, nothing too fancy. Mia insists Angel needs at least one pink thing, so they compromise on pink accent pillows.

Order whatever you want, Angel. This is your room. Your space. Make it yours.

Angel's secret thought: "Your room." Not "the guest room" or "where you're staying." YOUR room. Like it's really mine. Like I really belong here.

DoorDash delivers lunch—burgers and fries that everyone devours without bothering with plates, eating straight from the bags while sitting on the floor of Angel's empty-but-soon-to-be-furnished room. Mia gets ketchup on her shirt. Johnathan steals fries from Liora's container. Angel laughs until her stomach hurts.

The afternoon becomes an assembly marathon. The furniture store delivers everything by 2:00 p.m.—bed frame, mattress, dresser, desk, nightstand. Johnathan spreads instruction manuals across the floor like he's planning a military campaign. Angel holds pieces steady while he screws them together. Liora reads instructions aloud. Mia "helps" by handing them random screws, most of which are the wrong size.

By 4:00 p.m., Walmart delivers the rest: a 32-inch TV, desk lamp, wall decorations Angel picked out (inspirational quotes, string lights, a tapestry with a mountain scene), storage baskets, hangers, bedding in soft blues and grays.

(standing in the doorway, surveying her room) Can I also get a really good laptop? And high-quality earbuds? Music is... music helps me think. Helps me calm down when things get overwhelming.

Absolutely. You'll need a laptop for school anyway. What kind were you thinking?

Nothing crazy expensive. Just something fast enough to stream music and do homework. Maybe... a Chromebook? Those are affordable, right?

Johnathan's secret thought: She's asking for the cheapest option because she doesn't want to be a burden. She's still thinking like someone who has to minimize her needs to be tolerated. We need to teach her she's allowed to want things.

How about a decent MacBook Air? It'll last you through high school and beyond. And for earbuds—AirPods Pro or Sony noise-canceling? What do you prefer?

(eyes widening) That's... that's too much. You've already spent so much today.

(wrapping an arm around Angel's shoulders) You're worth it, sweetheart. You're our daughter now. Daughters get what they need—and sometimes what they want too.

Angel's secret thought: I'm going to cry again. I've cried more in five days here than in the entire year before. But these are good tears. These are "I'm home" tears.

By early evening they're all completely exhausted. Johnathan and Liora exchange worried glances over the credit card statements they'll have to face tomorrow—bed frame, mattress, furniture, electronics, decorations. Easily over $2,000 in one day.

Liora's secret thought: How are we going to pay for all this? We're not poor, but we're not wealthy either. There's the mortgage, the utilities, groceries for four now instead of two, and we haven't even started the legal fees for adoption. But... maybe the Angels will help. Linda said they bring resources when you need them. I have to believe that.

Johnathan's secret thought: We'll figure it out. We always do. Maybe I can pick up some freelance projects, Liora can take on extra clients. We'll make it work. We have to. Angel needs this. She needs to know she's worth the investment.

DoorDash brings dinner from Angel's favorite Mexican restaurant—the same small place they went to after the photo shoot. Enchiladas, tacos, rice, beans, fresh guacamole. They eat at the table, Angel animatedly teaching Mia random Spanish words, everyone laughing when Mia mispronounces "gracias" as "grassy-ass."

(yawning hugely) I'm so tired. Can we go to bed early?

Yes, baby. We all need sleep. Tomorrow's a new day.

(stretching) Tomorrow we start figuring out the legal stuff. Calling lawyers, scheduling consultations, understanding what adoption actually requires. But tonight? Tonight we just rest.

(softly, from the doorway as she heads to her new room) Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be. That's what my abuela used to say before... before everything got bad.

Angel's secret thought: Abuela's phrase. I haven't thought about her in years. She was kind, before she passed. Before everything fell apart. Maybe... maybe this is a new beginning. Maybe que sera sera doesn't have to mean resignation. Maybe it can mean hope.

Angel closes her bedroom door—her own door, to her own room—for the first time. She sits on her new bed, runs her hands over the soft comforter, looks around at the space that's entirely hers. On the nightstand, her new laptop is charging. The string lights cast a warm glow. Her few belongings—the clothes from shopping yesterday, the toiletries Liora bought her, a stuffed animal Mia insisted she have—are arranged carefully.

Angel's secret thought: This is mine. Really mine. Not borrowed, not temporary, not conditional. Mine. And they want to make it legal. They want to make ME legal. Their daughter. Forever. I don't know how to be someone's daughter the right way. But I'm going to learn. I'm going to become the person they believe I can be.

In their bedroom, Johnathan and Liora collapse onto the bed fully clothed, too tired to even change into pajamas.

(voice muffled against his shoulder) Did we just commit to adopting a teenage girl we've known for five days?

(laughing softly) Yes. Yes we did. Are we crazy?

Completely insane. And it's the most right thing I've ever done.

Johnathan's secret thought: Ten days ago I was alone in this house. Now I'm lying here with the woman I love, with two daughters sleeping down the hall—one by blood to her, one by choice to both of us. If this is crazy, I never want to be sane again.

Liora's secret thought: Linda was right. The Angels didn't just bring us love—they brought us purpose. They brought us Angel. And tomorrow we start building the forever we all deserve. Thank you. Whoever you are, wherever you are, thank you.

Outside, the winter night deepens. Stars emerge in the clear, cold sky. Inside the house, four hearts beat in three rooms—connected by something stronger than blood, deeper than circumstance, more permanent than any document could ever make official.

Tomorrow will bring lawyers and logistics, questions and complications. But tonight, a family sleeps—safe, whole, and finally, finally home.