Chapter 0002

Nicola Taylor

"Let go of his hair, Arabella. No, don’t do that," I say urgently, finally freeing Tim's hair from Bella's grasp as I lift her up to calm her down. My assistant teacher rushes to Tim’s side to check on him.

I carry Bella out of the classroom, her fits continuing in my arms. I sit down on a bench outside, placing her on my lap. Her face is flushed with anger, her gaze fixed angrily on the ground.

"Baby—" I begin, but she cuts me off abruptly.

"Punish me, I don’t care. I don’t want to hear more lectures!" she screams, startling me with the intensity of her outburst.

"I’m not going to punish you," I say gently, but Bella refuses to look up. "But I can tell you’re hurt and feeling bad, right?" I ask, trying to reach her.

She nods angrily.

"So if you know how bad it feels when you’re hurt, why would you want someone else to feel that way? Tim is crying inside because you hurt him. He feels bad now too. Does that make you feel better?" I ask, stroking her hair gently.

She shakes her head no, finally relaxing in my arms. The tension slowly eases, and Bella leans into me, her anger giving way to remorse.

"Bella," I begin again softly, "it's okay to feel upset, but hurting others isn't the way to handle it. You're a kind and smart girl, and I know you can find better ways to express your feelings."

Bella's gaze flickers up at me, her eyes still brimming with frustration but also a hint of vulnerability. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, her voice wavering, “He kept throwing my crayons away.”

"Next time, he or anyone troubles you. You can come to me.” I reply gently, tightening my embrace around her.

Bella nods slightly, her anger dissipating further. She leans into me, seeking comfort, and I hold her close, feeling the weight of the moment settle between us. The tension from earlier seems to melt away as we sit together on the bench, the sounds of the school day continuing around us.

After a few moments, Bella lifts her head, her expression softer now. "Can we go back inside?" she asks quietly.

"Of course," I say with a reassuring smile, brushing a stray hair from her face. "Let's go back in and see how we can make things right with Tim, okay?" I tell her as we walk back to the class.

As the clock strikes 2 o'clock and I'm preparing to leave for the day, the principal's assistant intercepts me, summoning me to her office. I enter hesitantly, and she gestures for me to take a seat.

"Nicola, this is strike three. Tim’s parents are going to be furious. Go and talk to her father once. We might have to remove her otherwise, and that would cause our school a lot of loss. Figure out a way to discipline this child. This cannot keep happening," she asserts firmly.

"But Tim also troubles her a lot. Many parents have complained about Tim troubling their kids too," I counter, hoping to explain the context, but her expression remains unmoved.

"Yes, but physical violence? In my school? Go and talk to her father at once," she insists again, her tone brooking no argument.

"Wait, he has to come here. Why would I go there?" I protest, reluctance coloring my voice at the thought of facing my old bully.

"He's a billionaire. They don’t come to schools. We go to them. Any more questions?" she replies briskly, already anticipating my objections. "The school chauffeur will pick you up from the house and drop you there, don’t worry. I just got off the phone with Mr. Harrington; he said he'll be home by 6. You can go there by 7. It shouldn't take more than half an hour, in my estimation."

"Do I have a choice?" I ask, though I already know the answer, frustration simmering as I resign myself to the task ahead.

As much as I dreaded it, there was no avoiding the meeting with Cole Harrington, especially after the incident involving Bella and Tim. Reluctantly, I agreed to the principal's assistant's plan, knowing that the repercussions of not resolving this could be severe for both Bella and the school.

The drive to the Harrington residence was smooth but felt like an eternity. Thoughts raced through my mind—memories of high school bullying, the fear of confronting Cole Harrington again, and the weight of responsibility for Bella's behavior.

I don’t think I ever want to have kids.

Arriving at the sprawling estate, I was greeted by an imposing mansion surrounded by manicured lawns. The chauffeur escorted me to the front door, where I was met by a butler who led me to a tastefully decorated sitting room.

Wow, and I am still struggling to pay my car loan on time.

I sat nervously, waiting for Mr. Harrington to arrive. The clock ticked by slowly, each minute stretching into what felt like an hour. Finally, at precisely 7 o'clock, Cole Harrington entered the room.

He was just as I remembered—his damn brown unruly hair tousled, hinting that he had just showered. He wore a plain white t-shirt that accentuated his muscular arms and broad chest, paired with black pants. His aura exuded authority, filling the space around him effortlessly. Our eyes met briefly, and in that fleeting moment, I caught a flicker of recognition before he composed himself with practiced ease.

"Ms. Taylor," he said, his voice measured but polite, "can I offer you some coffee or water?"

"Oh, it's fine, I'm good, Mr. Harrington," I replied, trying to maintain my composure despite my nervousness. Being here, around Cole, made me distinctly uncomfortable. All I wanted was to go home.

He took a seat opposite me, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence hung heavy between us.

Finally, Cole broke the silence. "I understand there was an incident involving Bella and a boy," he began, his tone businesslike yet tinged with concern.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I gathered my thoughts. "Yes, Mr. Harrington. Bella has been struggling, and it's led to some unfortunate conflicts at school… again," I explained carefully, choosing my words to convey the seriousness of the situation without directly accusing his daughter.

Cole listened intently, his expression inscrutable. "I see," he murmured after a moment. "But she mentioned that Tim keeps troubling her. As a father, I think I would prefer it if she defends herself."

"That's true, but the school aims to avoid physical violence, and—" I began, only to be interrupted by a cute giggle.

"Miss Taylor!" Bella exclaimed, bursting into the room and running straight into my arms. I couldn't help but smile as she settled onto my lap. "What are you doing here?" she asked happily, hugging me tightly.

Cole’s demeanor softened slightly as he watched Bella's affectionate interaction with me.

"I came to talk to your dad about school," I answered Bella with a gentle smile, glancing up at Cole.

Bella's face lit up. "Oh, Dad I promised Miss Taylor I won’t repeat it again and I will her if someone bothers me instead of hitting them." she told her father sweetly, “am I still in trouble?”

I chuckled softly, reassuring her. "No, sweetie, we're just talking about how we can make sure everyone gets along at school."

Bella seemed satisfied with that answer, and she hugged me again before looking up at me, "Can you stay and play with me and have dinner and have ice cream with me?" she asked eagerly.

"Oh honey, I don’t think that’s possible. I have to leave after I am done talking to—" I stopped as I saw her eyes filling with tears, which soon started falling down her chubby cheeks.

"But I will be n-nice and I-I will b-behave," she said, her voice trembling as she cried, wiping her tears away with her small hands.

"Can you stay for some time? Bella could use some time around you," Cole asked, and the desperation in his voice was audible. I felt bad for making the assumption that he was a bad father. He seemed like he was trying to do his best.

"Sure," I said without a second thought, making Bella jump in happiness.

"Yay! I am going to bring all my toys, Miss Taylor. Wait here," she exclaimed, running towards her room, but Cole stopped her by picking her up with one hand.

"But now that Miss Taylor is staying, you have to promise me a few things. You will eat all your food for the rest of the week? No pouting and complaining." he said, and she happily nodded her head before running upstairs to her room.

As Bella disappeared from sight, Cole and I were left in an unexpected and slightly awkward silence. He cleared his throat, looking slightly relieved. "Thank you for agreeing to stay. Bella... I feel like she needs a woman. I feel like even though she doesn’t remember her mother, she feels something is missing.”

"It's no problem," I replied, still processing the turn of events. "She's a sweet girl, and I don’t mind helping in any way I can."

Cole nodded, his expression softening. "She really likes you. It's been hard for her, losing her mother and adjusting to me as well.” My stomach drops as I look at the wedding ring on his finger. How could I not see this? Bella isn’t struggling because she misses her mother but Bella is struggling because her father is too grief stricken to be there for her all the time.

"Yeah, I understand. I guess I'll stay for an hour and then I have to leave because the chauffeur has to go home too," I told him as we stood awkwardly in the living room.

"Please stay for dinner. I'll drop you home. You can ask him to leave," he said, and I looked at him, unsure of what to say.

I liked his daughter and felt bad for him, but I didn't want to be alone with him.

"Are you sure?" I finally asked, trying to buy myself a moment to think. "I don't want to impose."

"You're not imposing," Cole said firmly, his eyes earnest. "Bella would love it, and... well, it would give us a chance to discuss more about her situation."

I hesitated, but Bella's earlier excitement and the genuine concern in Cole's voice swayed me. "Okay, I'll stay," I agreed, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Cole's expression softened with relief. "Thank you. I'll let the chauffeur know."

We heard Bella's excited footsteps before we saw her, and she reappeared, arms full of toys. "Miss Taylor, look! I brought my favorite dolls and cars," she announced, spreading her collection on the floor.

I joined her, engaging with her toys and making her laugh, while Cole watched us with a mixture of gratitude and something else—something warmer, softer, that made me feel a bit unsettled yet intrigued.

Dinner followed soon after, a simple but delicious meal prepared by the household staff. Bella was on her best behavior, her earlier outburst seemingly forgotten. Bella chatted animatedly, her joy infectious as Cole couldn’t take his eyes off his daughter.

After dinner, we indulged in Bella's much-anticipated ice cream. As she devoured her treat, Cole and I exchanged a few glances, the initial tension between us slowly giving way to a tentative understanding.

As the evening drew to a close, Bella's energy began to wane. She hugged me tightly, her earlier tears a distant memory. "Thank you for staying, Miss Taylor. Today was the best."

I said goodbye to Bella, who couldn't stop hugging me before she went back to her room, leaving me alone with her father.

"I ordered an Uber, actually. You don't have to—" I began, but he didn't respond immediately. He stared at me for a moment, then glanced at the clock, which showed it was 11 PM.

"Can I talk to you in private for a minute?" he asked, the seriousness in his voice both scaring and intriguing me.

"Sure," I said, my curiosity piqued and a knot forming in my stomach.