Chapter 3

Nicola Taylor

“Where are we going?” I asked, following him through his gigantic house. “You know it's already 11 PM. Arabella shouldn’t be up so late.”

“She’s with Ms. Kinsley, who tucks her in bed and stays there till she falls asleep,” he replied. I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to ask why he didn’t do it himself. Who am I to judge a person’s parenting style?

“Are we in your bedroom? This is highly inappropriate. I need to leave,” I said, but he just shut the door behind us.

“Relax, I just need to talk to you,” he said, gesturing to the bed. I shook my head, my eyes falling on the pictures of his late wife. Her jewelry, clothes, all her belongings were still in the room.

This man is heartbroken.

“Alright,” I said, sitting on the bed. For some reason, I felt comfortable. I looked him in the eyes as he stood two feet away from me.

“Marry me.”

I choked on my spit, coughing as soon as I heard the words come out of his mouth. “Is this… (cough cough)… a joke?” I said as he patted my back to help me.

“No. My parents have been forcing me to get married again for Arabella’s sake, and I didn’t want to because what if I picked the wrong woman and she doesn’t treat Arabella well? For the first time, my daughter finished her food, spoke the way a child should, and had fun. You make her happy, and she might actually grow up to have a good childhood with you in the picture,” he explained. I stood up, staring at him with wide eyes as if he had gone crazy.

“Cole, I still hate you. I was being professional for the sake of my job and your daughter’s well-being. I would die before I marry the man who tormented me my whole life. Secondly, I want to get married for love, not because you need someone for your daughter,” I yelled at him angrily, expecting him to get angry too, but he remained calm.

“Married for love? You’re thirty years old. Are you dating anyone?” he asked, making my anger rise. “I’m asking you to consider it for Arabella’s sake. She needs someone like you in her life.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside me. “Cole, this is insane. You can’t just propose marriage out of nowhere because of your daughter. There are other ways to support her without dragging me into your life.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing my words. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I don’t expect you to say yes immediately. But please, think about it. I have never seen her so comfortable around someone.”

“What’s my first name? Do you remember?” I asked him. He closed his eyes, clearly knowing he was going to mess this up. “Cole, it’s sweet that you care so much about your daughter, but I refuse to marry a man who is still in love with his late wife. I feel for you, I really do. But you will find a good woman who will love Arabella. This isn’t the way,” I told him as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“What do you want? I will do anything. I need you to marry me,” he said in despair, making me huff sadly as I rubbed his back, trying to make him feel better.

“Cole, I don’t think you are the person you used to be, but I still don’t want to marry you, and I am never going to say yes. If you need my help with Bella, I am here for you. But I can’t do anything more than that. Also, my name is Nicola,” I told him as I sat next to him, not knowing how to help a widower.

“I didn’t want a child, but I loved Courtney, and she really wanted children, so I agreed because why wouldn’t I love something that’s half her? But I told her I didn’t know how to raise a child, and she told me she would take care of everything. She was around for Arabella for barely a year before she passed away in an accident. Now I love Arabella more than life itself, but I don’t know how to raise her. She is always so unhappy. I don’t know what to do,” he said, his voice turning hoarse, making my heart clench.

This is so sad.

I sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “Cole, I can see you’re trying your best. And I can help with advice and guidance, but marriage isn’t the answer here.”

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and hope. “If it wasn’t for Arabella, I wouldn’t really have a reason to live you know.”

“Then start by spending more time with her. Show her that she matters to you. Let her see that she’s your priority,” I said gently. “You don’t need to be perfect, Cole. You just need to be there.”

He nodded, absorbing my words. “You’re right, and I need you to tell me where I go wrong. Please marry me.”

“Okay, you’ve gone insane,” I said with a huff, smacking his arm hard in anger.

“Nicola.” My heart stopped as I stared into his green eyes. “I am sorry for everything I ever did to you, and I will do anything to make up for it.” Electricity coursed through my veins as I felt him envelop my small hand in his big one on my lap.

The heat of his hand seeped into my thigh, making it hard to breathe. “Please take me home,” I said, my voice deep as I tried to shake off the lightheadedness I felt.

“Will you consider my offer?” he asked, and for some reason, I couldn’t say no.

I nodded, a huge grin spreading across his face. He stood up from the bed and pulled me up swiftly. His touch was firm yet gentle, sending shivers down my spine.

“Come on, I’ll drop you home,” he said, his hand resting on the small of my back, leading me out.

The drive home was filled with an electric silence. I could feel the tension between us, thick and undeniable. His hand occasionally brushed against mine, sending jolts of electricity through my body each time.

When we reached my place, he turned off the engine and looked at me. “Thank you for today. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said softly, his eyes locking with mine.

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. “Goodnight, Cole,” I said, opening the door to step out.

“Goodnight, Nicola,” he replied, his voice a deep, husky whisper that sent another shiver down my spine.

As I walked to my front door, I could feel his eyes on me, the tension still palpable even with the distance between us. I closed the door behind me, leaning against it as I tried to steady my racing heart.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.