Thirteen years ago, during his first ER shift as a young doctor, he stayed with a three-year-old girl who had just lost both parents in a car crash. She clung to him, terrified of being left again, and by morning he asked to take her home “just for the night.” One night became foster care, then adoption, and long before the paperwork was signed, Avery was already his daughter in every way that mattered.

He built his life around her—steady hours, school plays, scraped knees, midnight fears, and college savings. When he later began dating Marisa, he believed he could finally balance fatherhood and partnership. But Marisa quietly grew resentful of the bond between him and Avery, seeing the teenager not as family, but as competition.

Marisa framed Avery for stealing by staging security footage, using the girl’s hoodie to make it look real. When confronted, she revealed the truth plainly: Avery wasn’t his “real” daughter, and he was wasting his life on someone who would leave him anyway. That moment ended everything. He chose Avery without hesitation and sent Marisa out of their lives for good.

When Avery feared she didn’t truly belong, he made it clear—family isn’t blood, it’s choice. She chose him in the worst night of her life, and he chose her every day after. Thirteen years later, that promise remains unchanged: no matter what, he will keep choosing her.