A New Year's morning that shattered my perfect life
My husband Jake and I have been together for eight years. We're what you'd call "outdoorsy people" — rock climbing, leading hiking tours through the Colorado Rockies, the whole package. We have a beautiful cabin by the lake, steady income, and genuine love for each other.
But something's been missing. For years now, I've been aching for the sound of little feet, for bedtime stories and sticky fingers. I want to be a mom more than anything. But no matter what we try, it just doesn't happen.
Every New Year's, we take a group of tourists up to Pine Ridge. There's this old legend about the peak — if you watch the first sunrise of the year from the summit, your deepest wish will come true. I begged Jake for months to do this together.
"Sasha, it's just a silly old wives' tale," he'd say, rolling his eyes.
But eventually, he gave in.
So while everyone else was popping champagne and watching the ball drop, we were scaling frozen rock faces, warming ourselves with thermos coffee at the top. And that sunrise? Absolutely breathtaking. I felt... different. Lighter. Ready.
On our way down, we passed a woman dragging a little boy by his hood. He couldn't have been older than three or four. The smell of alcohol hit me before she even got close. The boy's eyes were red from crying.
At the general store, I watched her demand beer and vodka at 9 AM.
"Ma'am, we can't sell alcohol before ten," the cashier said firmly.
"It's New Year's! You want my money or not?"
Jake tugged my sleeve. "Let's go."
We bought our candy, but before leaving, I slipped a few pieces into the little boy's hand. He looked down shyly, then smiled — the sweetest, most heartbreaking smile I'd ever seen.
Later that afternoon, I realized I was out of salt. Back at the store, there he was. Same boy. Same dirty jacket. But this time, no mother in sight.
"Where's his mom?" I asked the cashier.
"Who knows? Left him here this morning. Said she'd be back in ten minutes."
"Shouldn't we call someone? CPS?"
The woman shrugged. "On New Year's Day? Good luck with that. She'll sober up eventually."
I looked at the boy. He looked at me.
"Come with me, sweetheart," I said, offering my hand.
He hesitated. Then took it.
I bathed him, wrapped him in my robe, and fed him homemade soup. He ate like a starving animal — barely chewing, just swallowing. Silent.
Jake walked in.
"We have... company?"
"His mother abandoned him. I brought him home."
"Sasha, do you realize what you've done? This could be considered kidnapping!"
"His mother will be passed out for days celebrating. I want to contact Child Protective Services. Maybe... maybe we could become his parents."
Jake stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
That night, the boy crawled into our bed. Jake grabbed a pillow and headed for the couch without a word.
The next morning, while I was making pancakes, Jake returned from somewhere outside.
"Get him dressed," he said flatly. "Someone's coming for him."
"Who? Why?"
"I made calls. He has parents — both of them. Dysfunctional, sure, but you can't just take someone's kid. Social services is on the way."
"They'll put him in foster care! He's so little!"
"That's what the system is for, Sasha."
"I wanted him to be OURS!"
"I wanted OUR child," Jake said, his voice cold. "Not some stranger's kid with God knows what kind of genes from his drunk mother."
"His future depends on who raises him, not who gave birth to him!"
"I've made my decision."
An hour later, they took him. The caseworker told me which group home he'd be placed in. She said his mother could reclaim him if she met certain conditions.
"What if I want to adopt him?" I asked, my voice cracking.
She gave me a sad look. "His mother's still alive. Still has parental rights. It's... complicated."
I cried as they drove away.
Now I sit here, staring at my beautiful cabin, my handsome husband, my perfect life — wondering how perfect it really is.
I always thought Jake and I wanted the same things. But now I see parts of him I'd never noticed before. If I fight for this boy — and I will fight — what happens when he comes home to a man who resents his very existence?
The legend said my deepest wish would come true. Maybe it did — just not the way I expected. Maybe the sunrise didn't bring me a child. Maybe it showed me who my husband really is.
And now I'm left with an impossible choice: the man I married, or the little boy who smiled at me through tears.
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