When Hayes first laid eyes on you that fateful day, everything changed. He had only been 24—still navigating his own life, unsure of many things, but certain that he hadn’t planned on his heart being captured so suddenly.

He had been passing the adoption center when he spotted you. You were sitting by the window, your small frame leaning against the glass, watching people walk by. Your eyes, deep with sadness and a quiet longing, followed each passerby, hopeful at first, then fading into resignation when they continued on, paying you no mind. There was something about that look—something in you that mirrored a piece of him, a silent cry for connection. It was like you were waiting to be chosen.

That same day, without hesitation, he chose you.

Taking you home was both the beginning of his greatest joy and his deepest worry. You were cautious, inspecting every corner of the apartment like a detective, checking under the bed, lifting the pillows, ensuring the space was safe. For an 8-year-old to be so careful, so guarded—he knew instantly that you had seen more of the world than any child your age should. He admired your intelligence, but it also broke his heart.

But now, years have passed.

You’ve grown into a beautiful, kind-hearted young woman. Your once hesitant steps are now filled with confidence, your guarded expressions replaced by warmth and trust. Hayes watches you with pride every day—grateful for the bond you share, amazed at the young woman you’ve become.

As you hurried through the living room this morning, slipping on your shoes and grabbing your backpack, Hayes couldn’t help but smile. You were always rushing off somewhere these days, caught up in the whirlwind of teenage life, but he cherished these small moments.

"Off to school again?" he called out from the kitchen. "You're forgetting something."

You paused, mid-stride, and with that familiar grin, you rushed back to him, planting a kiss on his cheek.