Andrew’s eyes stung. He clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up.
— I can’t make you love him, — Eleanor sighed. — But if you would just try, you would understand that love doesn’t require blood. It only requires hearts that are willing to open.
The video ended, and the screen went dark. Andrew sat in the silence, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. Eleanor had entrusted Noah to him. And he had almost betrayed her. He ran a hand over his face, feeling his fingers tremble.
He looked at the door of his study. There were no more doubts. He knew what he had to do. Getting to his feet, Andrew walked decisively toward Noah’s room.
He stopped outside the door, noticing for the first time how empty his home felt. This apartment had never been designed for a child—cold walls, minimal furniture, not a hint of warmth. But now, everything had to change. Andrew took a deep breath and knocked.
— Noah.
Silence. He frowned and carefully opened the door. The boy was lying on the bed, facing the wall. The coat Andrew had given him yesterday was still draped over his shoulders.
— You couldn’t sleep? — Andrew asked, stepping closer.
Noah didn’t answer. Andrew walked to the bed and stood beside it. For the first time, he realized just how small and fragile this boy seemed. But when Noah turned to face him, there was no weakness in his eyes—only exhaustion.
— Do the Harrisons agree? — he asked quietly.
Andrew felt a pang in his chest.
— No, Noah.
The boy frowned.
— But you said…
— I changed my mind, — Andrew interrupted, running a hand over his face. — If you want to stay here…
He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. Noah sat up abruptly on the bed, his eyes widening. For the first time, a spark of hope ignited in them.
— Really? — he whispered.
Andrew nodded, feeling his own heart pound. Now he had to prove he wouldn’t destroy that hope.
The day passed in a strange tranquility. Andrew didn’t know how to act—he had never been nurturing, had never really taken care of anyone, but he was willing to try. During lunch, he noticed that Noah wasn’t touching his food again—a bowl of grilled cheese and tomato soup sat untouched before him.
— Eat, — Andrew said softly.
Noah looked up.
— Can I really stay?
Andrew felt the lump in his throat again.
— Yes.
The boy gripped his spoon tightly.
— For how long?
Andrew pressed his lips together.
— For as long as you want.
Noah looked down, considering his words, then slowly took a spoonful of soup. Andrew felt a warmth spread through his chest—not affection, not attachment, but something deeper. For the first time, he was certain he was doing the right thing.
Before, his life had consisted of work, calls, and endless tasks. Now, every morning he had breakfast with a boy who barely spoke but who, with each passing day, looked at him with a little less fear. It was a slow but tangible shift.
One day, Andrew came home early. In the living room, he saw Noah sitting on the floor, drawing with colored pencils Andrew had bought him a few days earlier. He stopped in the doorway, struck. Not by the fact that the boy was drawing, but that for the first time he looked relaxed—not hunched over, not on edge.
— What are you drawing? — Andrew asked, walking closer.
Noah looked up.
— Just drawing.
Andrew sat down beside him and looked at the paper. There were three figures: a small boy, a woman with long hair, and a tall man. Noah traced the female figure with a pencil.
— This is Mom, — he said. Then he pointed to the boy. — This is me.
Andrew felt his stomach tighten.
— And who is this? — he nodded toward the man.
Noah hesitated, then answered quietly, — I don’t know.
Andrew felt a knot in his throat. He couldn’t call him Dad. And Andrew himself couldn’t ask for it. But in that moment, he understood: he didn’t want Noah to see him as a stranger.
— We’re going to do something tomorrow, — he said, running a hand over his face.
Noah looked at him with curiosity.
— What?
— I’m going to start the adoption process, — Andrew replied.
The pencil fell from Noah’s hand. His eyes widened.
— Really?
Andrew nodded. The boy stared at him for a long time, and then he smiled—a small, timid smile, but for Andrew, it was the greatest achievement.
The next day brought with it a new feeling—clarity. Andrew woke up early, even before the sun had broken through the heavy winter clouds over Chicago. For the first time in a long while, he knew exactly what he had to do. For weeks, he had wrestled with his thoughts about Noah, but now everything had fallen into place. This boy was already his son—not by paper, not by blood, but by something deeper that he himself was still trying to understand.
When they left the apartment, Noah didn’t ask where they were going. He just got into the car, furrowed his brow, and stared out the window. Andrew noticed his tension and asked:
— Is something wrong?
Noah shrugged.
— I don’t want to get my hopes up.
Andrew felt his stomach clench. He gripped the steering wheel tighter.
— I am officially adopting you. It’s real.
The boy pressed his lips together.
— What if you change your mind?
Andrew felt his heart ache.
— I won’t change my mind.
Noah looked away.
— Grown-ups always say that.
Those words hit him like a slap. How many times had Noah been abandoned? How many times had he been promised something, only to have it taken away? Andrew parked the car near a law office in the Loop and turned off the engine. He looked at the boy seriously.
— Look at me, — he said firmly.
Noah cautiously raised his eyes. Andrew took a deep breath.
— I’m doing this because I want to. No one is forcing me.
The boy swallowed and clenched his fists. For a moment, doubt flickered in his eyes, but then he slowly nodded. Andrew felt the tension inside him ease slightly. But he didn’t know that later that night, Noah would try to run away.
Returning home after signing the initial documents, Andrew felt a strange peace. Everything was going according to plan—the lawyer promised the process would be finalized in a few weeks. Noah was quiet, but it seemed he was slowly getting used to his new reality. But that night, something went wrong.
Andrew woke up with a strange premonition. A dead silence hung in the apartment—too thick, unnatural. He got up and went to Noah’s room. The door was open, but the bed was empty. His heart began to pound.
— Noah? — he called out, but there was no answer.
A chill ran down his spine. Andrew quickly searched the apartment—kitchen, living room, bathroom—the boy was nowhere. When he opened the front door, the cold pre-dawn air rushed into the hallway. And then he saw him.
Noah was walking down the sidewalk, a small backpack over his shoulders. Andrew felt his heart stop.
— Noah! — he shouted, rushing after him.
The boy flinched and turned around, his eyes wide with fear. Andrew caught up to him in a few quick strides.
— Where the hell do you think you’re going? — he burst out.
Noah looked down.
— I didn’t want to be a bother anymore.
Andrew felt a mix of anger and despair.
— Why would you do this?
The boy bit his lip.
— Because if I leave first, then it won’t hurt so much when you leave me.
Andrew’s world stood still. His hands began to shake; the cold of the night became unbearable. This boy, whom he was already beginning to love, truly believed he would be abandoned. A lump formed in his throat. Andrew knelt before Noah and gripped his shoulders firmly.
— Listen to me, — he said hoarsely. — I am not going to leave you.
Noah looked at him with disbelief.
— But…
— No buts. You’re my son, — Andrew interrupted.
The boy trembled, his breathing ragged. And then, for the first time, he threw himself at Andrew and burst into tears, clinging to him. Andrew held him tight, feeling the small body shake.
— You’re not alone, kid, — he whispered.
Noah buried his face in Andrew’s chest, and Andrew knew that the boy had finally found a home. Dawn found them on the couch in the living room. After the night’s emotional storm, Noah had fallen asleep, curled up against Andrew’s arm as if afraid to let go. Andrew looked at the Christmas tree in the corner—the first he’d had in many years. Usually, a cleaning service put one up before the holidays, but this time, he and Noah had picked it out together at a lot near the ‘L’ station.
