Chapter 9
Anna
“Good morning, class,” I greeted as I stepped inside. The children were already seated, legs swinging beneath tiny chairs, backpacks tucked away with varying levels of success.
“Good morning, Miss Mathews,” they chimed in, some louder than others.
I smiled, scanning the room out of habit, and that’s when I noticed the empty chair.
Before I could comment on it, the door swung open.
In hopped Amy, cheeks flushed with excitement, a wide grin on her face. Her father followed closely behind, carrying a large box decorated with balloons and cartoon characters—party packs, by the look of it.
“Good morning, Amy,” I said warmly. “Is it your birthday today?”
“Yes, Miss!” she announced proudly. “I’m five years old.”
“Well, happy birthday,” I said, bending down to her level and giving her a gentle hug. She smelled faintly of strawberries and cake batter.
I straightened and turned to her father. “Good morning, sir. I’ll take that,” I said, reaching for the box.
He handed it over, and I placed it on my desk before turning back to him. “Thank you. I’ll hand these out to the class later.”
“Sure,” he said with a polite nod. “I’ll get going then.”
“Sir?” I called just as he turned toward the door.
He paused and looked back. “Yes?”
“Please call me Ricco,” he said with a small, friendly smile, as if correcting himself before I could.
“If you insist,” I replied lightly. Then, almost as an afterthought, “Will I be seeing you at my wedding on Saturday?”
His expression shifted, subtle, but noticeable.
“Oh… no,” he said. “Amy will be staying with her mom over the weekend. She’ll be the one accompanying her.”
“Oh,” I said, the surprise slipping out before I could stop it.
He noticed immediately and gave a small, understanding shrug. “I don’t think my ex-wife would want me under the same roof as her,” he added calmly.
“I’m so sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No worries at all,” he replied. “But thank you for the invitation. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” I said sincerely.
He gave Amy a quick wave before leaving. She waved back enthusiastically, then skipped to her seat as if nothing in the world could dim her excitement.
As the door closed behind him, I took a breath, smiling softly before turning back to the class.
“Alright,” I said, clapping my hands once. “Let’s start our day, and later, we’ll celebrate someone very special.”
Amy beamed.
“Okay everyone,” I said. “Grab your aprons. Today we’re painting something nice, your favourite animal.”
A beat of silence… then…
“Yaaay!” the class erupted, chairs scraping as little bodies scrambled into place.
Aprons went on crooked. Paint cups clinked. Brushes dipped eagerly into colour. Within minutes, the room settled into that familiar kindergarten hush, broken only by the soft scratch of brushes and the occasional hum of concentration.
I was wiping my hands on a paper towel when a sharp little voice cut through the calm.
“What is that?”
I looked up.
Amy had leaned halfway out of her seat, peering at the paper next to her with open scrutiny.
“It doesn’t even look like an animal,” she continued, unimpressed. “You can’t draw.”
Isabel’s lower lip trembled, but she lifted her page defensively. “It’s a cat,” she said, quietly but firmly.
Amy scoffed. “That does not look like a cat. Look at my drawing.”
She held hers up proudly—a very confident, very pink creature that looked suspiciously like it could be anything at all.
Before I could step in, Lara leaned over from the other side of the table, studying Isabel’s picture seriously.
“It does look like a cat,” she said, nodding once. “Cats can look different. Never mind her, Isabel.”
Then, without another word, she turned back to her own painting, utterly unbothered.
I hid a smile.
“That’s enough,” I said firmly. “Eyes on your own papers, girls. We don’t compare art in this class. Everyone’s animals are perfect because they made them.”
Amy huffed but sat back down. Isabel relaxed. And Lara kept painting, calm as ever, already acting like she’d been in charge her whole life.
I shook my head fondly.
Some personalities, I thought, don’t need time to develop. They arrive fully formed.
“Okay, everyone,” I said, clapping my hands. “You should all be finished by now. Let’s gather together and sing for Amy.”
Chairs scraped back as the children hurried to form a small, uneven circle. A few were already bouncing on their toes, barely able to contain themselves.
“One… two… three.”
They burst into the birthday song, loud and off-key and completely sincere. Amy stood in the middle, her cheeks glowing, her smile stretching wider with every line. She clasped her hands in front of her, soaking it all in like it was the best moment of her life.
When the song ended, Lara stepped forward without hesitation and wrapped her arms around Amy in a quick, confident hug. For a second, Amy looked surprised, then she hugged her back. The rest of the class followed, one after another, little arms piling in until it became a giggling group cuddle.
My heart swelled at the sight.
“All right, little ones,” I said once the laughter settled. “Line up nicely and come collect your party packs from Amy. And don’t forget to say thank you.”
A neat-ish queue formed. Each child accepted their treat with wide eyes and thank-yous, Amy handing them out with proud seriousness, like the hostess of an important event.
When the last pack was gone and backpacks were slung over tiny shoulders, I gathered their attention one final time.
“Okay, my loves,” I said softly. “Tomorrow I won’t be here. I have a few last errands to run before the big day. But Miss Smith will be with you instead.”
A chorus of disappointed groans followed.
“I know,” I smiled. “But I do hope to see all of you at my wedding.”
“Of course, Miss!” several of them chimed at once.
One by one, parents arrived to collect them, the classroom slowly emptying until only silence remained. I straightened a stack of papers, savouring the calm.
When I turned toward the door, I found Michael leaning casually against the frame, arms crossed, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“You’re early,” I said.
“Took the rest of the day off,” he replied. “We have a wedding to prepare for.”
I laughed quietly. “I can’t believe how fast time flew.”
“And in two days,” he added, stepping closer cupping my cheeks and kissing me, “you’ll be Mrs. Miller.”
I smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go home.”
Hand in hand, we walked out together.
On the drive home, I turned toward Michael.
“I need to stop by the boutique. The bridesmaids are doing their final fittings and collecting their dresses.”
He nodded easily. “What about yours?”
“It’s done,” I said, smiling. “Just not there. My sister made it.”
He glanced at me, clearly intrigued. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”
Then, after a beat, “Do you need to meet them now?”
“Yes. I told them I’d come straight after work.”
“Okay,” he said, pulling into traffic. “Let’s go.”
By the time we arrived, the boutique was already buzzing. Garment bags hung from hooks, and the girls were gathered near the fitting rooms, half-dressed and laughing as the stylist made last-minute adjustments.
Nancy wasn’t there. She made her own maid-of-honour dress. Asking her to create everyone’s would’ve been impossible now that she had a full-time job. I was grateful she even managed one.
I took them in, my smile widening.
“Wow,” I said honestly. “The orange looks incredible on all three of you.”
“We thought so too,” Chloe said, turning slightly to admire herself in the mirror.
Michael settled onto one of the sofas near the wall, watching quietly while pretending not to listen, though I knew better.
I was standing near the fitting rooms when Veronica stepped closer, her voice lower than usual.
“I just wanted to apologise,” she said. “I’ve been… a bit mean lately.”
She hesitated, then added, “I think I was jealous. And I shouldn’t have let that affect our friendship. We’ve been friends for too long for that.”
I looked at her, surprised but touched.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I understand.”
Behind her, I caught Chloe and Tatum exchanging knowing smiles, clearly relieved.
When I glanced over at Michael, I noticed his eyebrow lift, just slightly, as if filing the moment away.
The tension in the room softened, replaced by something warmer. Lighter.
While the girls remained busy with garment bags and final instructions, Michael suddenly pulled me onto his lap.
“Michael,” I whispered, glancing around. “What are you doing? This is a public space.”
He smiled, completely unapologetic. “A public space for couples in love,” he said softly. “Look around, nothing but wedding dresses and bridal nerves. We fit right in.”
“People are staring,” I murmured.
“Let them,” he replied, pressing a warm kiss to my temple as his arm settled comfortably around my waist. “I don’t mind if the world knows you’re mine.”
I tried, and failed not to smile.
“So,” he said quietly, his voice just for me now. “What are we doing tonight?”
“Sleeping at my dad’s,” I answered.
He stiffened. “What?”
Then groaned dramatically. “That’s going to be torture.”
I laughed. “Why?”
“I’ve had a taste of what it’s like waking up next to my wife every morning for two whole weeks,” he said, lowering his voice. “And now you want to break the routine?”
“Only two nights until the wedding,” I teased. “Have some patience.”
He sighed, resting his forehead against mine. “I’ll try. But I can’t wait to wake up next to you for the rest of my life.”
Before I could reply, the girls approached, dresses carefully packed and faces glowing.
“We’re all set,” Chloe said. “We’ll get dressed at your place on the wedding morning.”
“My dad’s place,” I corrected. “Remember, I already moved out.”
“Oh, right,” Chloe laughed. “See you Saturday. Try to rest, okay? And don’t overdo it.”
“I will,” I said, hugging each of them in turn.
As they left, Michael leaned closer. “Sleep with me tonight,” he said quietly. “I’ll drop you off early at your dad’s tomorrow morning. You’ll have the whole day to yourself, no rushing, no stress.”
I hesitated for half a second, then smiled.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll text Nancy.”
He grinned like he’d just won something precious, and honestly, so did I.