A month after we adopted Ioana, she looked at me with her big eyes and whispered, “Mommy, don’t trust Daddy.” Her words echoed in my mind, making me wonder what secrets my husband might be hiding.

I gazed at Ioana’s little face, taking in her keen eyes and her timid, unsure smile. After years of hoping, trying, and waiting, here she was, our daughter.

Mihai seemed to glow with happiness. He couldn’t stop looking at her, as if trying to memorize every feature and expression.

“Look at her, Maria,” he whispered, with awe in his voice. “She’s perfect.”

I gently smiled, placing a hand on Ioana’s shoulder. “She really is.”

We had come so far to reach this moment. There were doctor visits, long discussions, and endless paperwork for the adoption process. When we met Ioana, something inside me knew. At just four years old, so small and quiet, she already seemed like ours.

It had been a few weeks since Ioana’s adoption was official, and we decided it was time for a family outing. Mihai knelt to her level, smiling warmly. “How about we go get some ice cream? Would you like that?”

Ioana looked at him, then at me, like she was waiting for my reaction. She didn’t answer right away, just gave a small nod and moved closer to me.

Mihai chuckled softly, though I could hear a hint of unease in his laughter. “Alright, ice cream it is. It’ll be a little treat.”

Ioana stayed close to me the entire journey. Mihai was in front, glancing back at us with hopeful smiles. I watched as he tried to make her feel comfortable, but each time he asked her a question, Ioana clutched my hand a bit tighter and her gaze turned to me.

When we reached the ice cream shop, Mihai approached the counter, ready to order for her. “How about chocolate? Or maybe strawberry?” he asked, his voice full of enthusiasm.

She looked at him, then again at me, her voice barely a whisper. “Vanilla, please.”

Mihai seemed surprised for a moment, then smiled. “Vanilla it is.”

She seemed content letting him order but I noticed she barely looked at Mihai while we sat down. Instead, she ate quietly, staying close to me. She watched Mihai with cautious interest, saying little, and I wondered if it was all too overwhelming for her.

Later that evening, when I tucked Ioana into bed, she clung to my arm a bit longer than I expected.

“Mom?” she whispered, her voice hesitant.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

She looked down for a moment, then back up at me with her large, serious eyes. “Don’t trust Daddy.”

I paused, my heart beating faster. I leaned closer, brushing her hair gently. “Why do you say that, dear?”

She shrugged, but her lips curled in a small, sad smile. “He talks weird. Like he’s hiding something.”

It took me a few moments to respond. I tried to keep my voice gentle. “Ioana, Daddy loves you very much. He’s just trying to make you feel at home. You know that, right?”

She didn’t answer, just burrowed a little deeper under her blanket. I stayed there, holding her hand, wondering where this was coming from. Could it just be nerves? Maybe adjusting was harder for her than we realized. But as I watched her, a sense of unease began to settle over me.

When I finally left her room, I found Mihai waiting by the door. “How was it?” he asked, with a hopeful look on his face.

“She’s asleep,” I replied softly, watching his expression.

“That’s good.” He seemed relieved, but I noticed his smile falter slightly. “I know it’s all new for her. For all of us. But I think we’ll manage. Don’t you think?”

I nodded, but I couldn’t shake Ioana’s words from echoing in my mind.

The next day, as I stirred the pasta on the stove, I heard Mihai’s voice coming from the living room. He was on the phone, his tone low and tense. I stopped, wiped my hands on a towel, and listened as his words drifted into the kitchen.

“It’s… harder than I expected,” he was saying, his voice just above a whisper. “She’s… very observant. Ioana notices more than I thought. I’m afraid she might tell Maria.”

I felt my heart race, my mind trying to grasp what I’d heard. Ioana might tell me? Tell me what? I tried to push aside my thoughts, telling myself there had to be an explanation. But as I listened, my pulse quickened.

“It’s so hard to keep everything a secret,” Mihai continued. “I don’t want Maria to know… not until everything’s ready.”

I paused, gripping the kitchen counter. What wasn’t I supposed to know? What could he be hiding from me? I tried to hear more, but his voice grew quieter, and I couldn’t catch the rest of the conversation. Moments later, he ended the call and headed towards the kitchen.

I turned back to the stove, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. I stirred the pasta more vigorously than needed, trying to appear normal as Mihai entered with a satisfied smile.

“Smells great in here,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

I forced a smile, my hands gripping the spoon. “Thanks. Almost ready.” My voice sounded strange even to my own ears, and I felt my smile waver, hearing his words in my mind: “Afraid she might tell Maria…” “Hard to keep it all secret.”

That evening, after we’d put Ioana to bed, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I needed answers. I found Mihai in the living room, going through some papers, and sat down across from him, my hands clasped in my lap.

“Mihai,” I began, my voice calmer than I felt, “I overheard you talking on the phone earlier.”

He looked up, leaning back in his chair, with a hint of surprise and something hard to read in his eyes. “Oh?” he said, slightly surprised. “What did you hear?”

I hesitated for a moment, choosing my words carefully. “I heard you say that Ioana might… tell me something. And that it’s hard to keep everything ‘a secret.’” I looked at him directly, my heart pounding. “What are you hiding from me?”

For a few moments, he was silent, staring into space, with a confused and worried look on his face. Then, as realization dawned, his face softened, and he set the papers aside, leaning toward me and reaching for my hand.

“Maria,” he said with a gentle voice, “I’m not hiding anything bad, I promise.” His hand on mine was warm and reassuring, but it didn’t completely dispel the unease in my stomach.

“Then what is it?” I whispered, almost on the brink of tears, unable to meet his gaze. “What don’t you want Ioana to tell me?”

Mihai held my gaze and paused, and his face turned a little sheepish. “Actually, I didn’t want you to find out because… I wanted to plan a surprise for Ioana’s birthday. With the help of my brother.” He squeezed my hand, looking slightly embarrassed. “I wanted it to be something special, her first big celebration with us.”

I sat back, surprised by his words. “A surprise party?” I asked slowly, feeling my shoulders lighten, though still tense.

“Yes,” Mihai said, nodding. “I wanted it to be perfect for her. To show her how much we love her, that she’s now part of our family.” He smiled softly, as if he realized he had reassured me. “I was worried Ioana might say something, and I didn’t want the surprise ruined.”

A wave of relief washed over me, but guilt also crept into my heart. What had I imagined it to be? Or rather, what did I think was happening? “Mihai,” I whispered, bowing my head, “I’m sorry. I just… thought something was wrong.”

Mihai laughed softly, gently brushing my hand with his thumb. “It’s alright, Maria. I understand. I feel the same way. We’re both in this together, trying to adapt.”

I nodded, trying to set aside the worries that had haunted me. “I think Ioana is just… protective,” I said, trying to explain. “She doesn’t know what to expect, and when she said not to trust you… I think it rattled me.”

Mihai nodded thoughtfully.