Updated Oct 23, 2025 • ~9 min read
SEB’S POV
The call came at seven AM on a Tuesday.
I was feeding Celeste, Lina was in the shower, and everything felt almost normal. Almost peaceful.
Then my phone rang. Officer Callum Rivers from Immigration.
“Mr. Santoro, I have news about your green card application.”
My heart stopped. “Okay.”
“I’m calling to inform you that your application has been reviewed by the board. Given the circumstances—the initial fraud, the ongoing legal complications, the evidence of manipulation—they’ve made a decision.”
I couldn’t breathe. “And?”
“Your application is being denied. You have sixty days to arrange your affairs and leave the country voluntarily. If you don’t, we’ll initiate deportation proceedings.”
The bottle slipped from my hand. Formula spilled across the floor.
“There has to be a mistake. We submitted everything. The truth. Documentation. Proof the marriage is real—”
“The board acknowledges your marriage may be genuine now. But the initial fraud, combined with the attempted adoption that appears to be immigration-motivated, has led them to conclude you’re not eligible for citizenship at this time.”
“The adoption isn’t immigration-motivated. Those emails were forged—”
“That’s a matter for the courts. But from an immigration standpoint, the pattern of behavior is concerning. I’m sorry, Mr. Santoro. The decision is final.”
“Can we appeal?”
“You can try. But appeals take years. And you’d have to do it from Italy.”
He hung up.
I sat there on the floor, Celeste in my arms, formula soaking into my jeans, and felt my world end.
Sixty days. I had sixty days with my family before they took me away.
LINA’S POV
“No.”
That was all I could say when Seb told me. Just “no” over and over while he held me and I fell apart.
“This isn’t happening. They can’t do this. We proved everything. The marriage is real. Damian was behind the emails. We have evidence—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Seb said, his voice hollow. “The board made their decision.”
“Then we appeal. We fight. We—”
“From Italy. While you’re here with Celeste. For years, Lina. They said years.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
“Yes. We already discussed this. If you go, we go.”
“That was before. Before the adoption was denied. Before Jasper decided to stay involved in Celeste’s life.” He pulled away, pacing. “Lina, if you take her to Italy, Jasper can file for custody. He’s the biological father. He has rights.”
“We have a co-parenting agreement—”
“Which assumes we’re in the country. If we’re not, a judge could rule in his favor. Award him primary custody.”
“Then he comes to Italy too.”
“Lina, listen to yourself! You’re talking about uprooting everyone’s lives. Leaving your home, your business, your friends. All because I made a mistake six months ago.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. It was survival.”
“It was fraud. And now I’m paying for it.” He stopped pacing, looked at me. “But you don’t have to.”
Something in his voice scared me. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying maybe… maybe it’s time to let me go.”
“No. Seb, no—”
“Listen. If I leave, if we stay separated, you can still adopt Celeste. Raise her here. Give her the life she deserves. And I can work on getting back legally. The right way. However long it takes.”
“That could be years!”
“I know.”
“You’d miss everything. Her first words. First steps. Birthdays. Everything.”
“I know,” he said again, and his voice broke. “But she’d be safe. With you. In a stable home. Not being dragged across the world because of my mistakes.”
“Our mistakes. We made these choices together.”
“But I’m the one being deported. You don’t have to follow me into exile.”
“Yes, I do. Because I love you. Because you’re my husband. Because—”
“Because what if it doesn’t work?” He was shouting now. “What if you give up everything, move to Italy, and I still can’t get back? What if we’re stuck there for years? What if Celeste grows up resenting us for taking her away from the only country she knows?”
“Or what if she grows up knowing her parents loved each other enough to stay together no matter what?”
“That’s very romantic. But Lina, I’m trying to be practical—”
“I don’t want practical! I want you! I want our family together, even if it’s messy and complicated and requires moving across an ocean!”
We stood there, both breathing hard, both crying.
“I can’t ask you to give up your life,” Seb said quietly.
“You’re not asking. I’m choosing. There’s a difference.”
SEB’S POV
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
I kept thinking about Lina’s words. About choice. About what it meant to choose someone even when it cost everything.
At two AM, I found myself in Celeste’s nursery, watching her sleep.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry I’m putting you through this. You deserve better than a father who can’t stay in his own daughter’s country.”
She slept on, peaceful, unaware her world was about to be turned upside down.
“If your mom brings you to Italy, I promise I’ll make it worth it. I’ll show you where I grew up. Teach you Italian. Make sure you know both sides of your heritage.” My voice cracked. “And if she doesn’t—if she chooses to stay here because it’s better for you—I’ll understand. I’ll love you from across the ocean. I’ll video call every day. I’ll be the best long-distance father I can be.”
“Stop talking like you’re already gone.”
I turned. Lina stood in the doorway in her pajamas.
“I’m trying to prepare—”
“For what? For giving up? For walking away?” She crossed to me. “Seb, I know you’re scared. I’m terrified too. But we don’t get to make decisions for each other out of fear.”
“I’m trying to protect you—”
“By leaving? By choosing for me that it’s better if we’re apart?” She took my face in her hands. “Let me make my own choice. And I choose you. I choose us. Even if it’s hard. Even if it means moving. Even if it takes years to get back.”
“What about Celeste?”
“She needs her father more than she needs a specific zip code.”
“What about Jasper?”
“We’ll figure it out. Summers. Video calls. Whatever works. But Seb, she needs you there. Not sending packages from Italy. Not on a screen. Actually there.”
“You’d really leave everything?”
“For you? Without hesitation.” She smiled through tears. “You chose me in that coffee shop. You chose me when you found out about the baby. You chose me every single day since. Let me choose you back.”
I pulled her into my arms, holding tight.
“I’m scared,” I admitted.
“Me too. But we’ll be scared together.”
“In Italy.”
“In Italy. For however long it takes.”
LINA’S POV
The next morning, we started planning.
Natalia helped us navigate the legal complexities. Jasper agreed to a modified custody arrangement—summers and holidays in the US, video calls weekly, and he’d visit Italy when he could.
“This is insane,” he said. “You’re moving to another country.”
“We’re doing what we have to,” I said.
“I’m sorry. For all of this. If I hadn’t filed that custody case, none of this would have happened.”
“If you hadn’t filed that custody case, we wouldn’t have fought to prove our marriage was real. In a weird way, you did us a favor.”
He smiled sadly. “Some favor. Getting your husband deported.”
“The system did that. Not you.”
Over the next two weeks, we sold furniture. Packed our lives into boxes. Said goodbye to friends and the life we’d built.
Stella cried when we told her. “I’m going to lose my best friend.”
“You’re not losing me. I’m just going to be in a different time zone.” I hugged her. “And you’ll visit. We’ll video call constantly. Nothing really changes except geography.”
“Everything changes.”
She was right. Everything was changing.
But some things stayed the same.
SEB’S POV
Three days before we were supposed to leave, Natalia called.
“Don’t pack another thing,” she said.
“Why?”
“Damian Thornton was arrested this morning. The police connected him to the forged emails, the blog leaks, everything. He’s being charged with multiple felonies.”
“That’s good news, but how does it help us?”
“I filed an emergency motion with the immigration board. Argued that your application was denied based on fraudulent evidence. That you’re a victim, not a criminal.” She paused. “They’re reviewing the decision.”
“How long will that take?”
“Usually? Months. But I called in every favor I have. They’re expediting it. We should know by tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. One day before our flight to Italy.
“What are the chances they reverse it?” I asked.
“Honestly? I don’t know. But it’s better than nothing.”
That night, Lina and I lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
“What if they say yes?” she asked.
“Then we stay. We rebuild our life here.”
“And if they say no?”
“Then we get on that plane and start over in Italy.”
“Either way, we’re together.”
“Either way,” I agreed.
The call came at eight AM.
Officer Rivers. Again.
“Mr. Santoro, I have an update.”
I put it on speaker so Lina could hear.
“The board has reviewed the new evidence. Given that the primary reasons for denial were based on forged documents and the actions of a third party, they’re overturning their decision.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Your green card application is approved. You’re no longer facing deportation.”
“I’m… I can stay?”
“You can stay. Welcome to the United States, Mr. Santoro. Officially.”
After he hung up, Lina and I sat in stunned silence.
“We get to stay,” she whispered.
“We get to stay.”
“In our apartment. Our home.”
“With our daughter. Our life.”
We laughed. We cried. We called everyone we knew and told them the news.
And that afternoon, we canceled our flight to Italy.
Not because we were giving up on each other.
But because we didn’t have to choose between love and home anymore.
We could have both.
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