"I like it." He nodded and reached out, but then suddenly pulled his hand back. With the caution of a miniature adult, he asked, "Does it have peanuts? Dad says I'm allergic to peanuts."
A bittersweet ache bloomed in my chest. Even his allergies matched mine.
I smiled and shook my head. "It's safe. No peanuts. Because I'm allergic to peanuts too."
Only then did he accept the chocolate, nibbling it in small bites. Watching him eat, my heart turned to mush.
"Is it usually just you and your dad at home?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though I was hanging on every word.
Olei stopped chewing. His eyes dimmed. "Just Dad. And lots of bodyguards."
What about Vanessa? Didn't she live with them? But I didn't push. None of this was my business. As long as Olei wasn't being mistreated by Vanessa, that was enough.
"Is your dad good to you?" I finally asked the question that worried me most.
"Dad..." Olei frowned, as if searching for the right words. "Dad's really scary. He doesn't smile. Everyone's afraid of him. I'm a little afraid, too."
My nails dug into my palms. That bastard. Was he abusing my child?
"But Dad only looks scary. When I'm sick, he takes care of me. He's gentle then." Olei's voice softened.
Seeing how understanding he was, my heart broke all over again.
"Olei." I reached out and gently stroked his soft, dark brown hair. "Remember what I'm telling you. No matter how scary your dad seems, you're a child who deserves to be loved. If... if you're ever unhappy at home, or scared, you can always come to me. Okay?"
Olei nodded, looking up at me. While he finished his chocolate, I saved my contact information in his phone watch.
"Alright, head back to class now. Don't be late for your next lesson." Even though I wanted to keep him with me longer, I made myself say it.
I watched his small figure disappear through the office door, my heart swelling with gratitude—my child was within reach, and I could see him almost every day. The thought made me feel lighter than I had in years.
My phone buzzed on the desk. I glanced at the screen. Julian.
"Hey, Julian." I sat back in my chair and answered, unable to hide the brightness in my voice.
"Hey, Anthea." His voice carried just the right note of warmth. "How was your first day? The little monsters didn't give you too much trouble, did they?"
"Not bad." I laughed softly, relaxing into the chair. "Most of the kids are sweet. Though at this age, their world can be pretty cruelsometimes. There was a situation today—one kid was getting bullied by some classmates."
"You helped him, didn't you?" Julian said with certainty, as if he could see right through me over the phone. "So the lucky little guy's okay now?"
"Of course." Even though I would have stepped in for any child, being praised just for helping my own son felt strangely embarrassing. My cheeks warmed.
My eyes drifted to the empty cup Olei had used. "But some of these kids are so premature. It breaks your heart. Like the bullied one—he was clearly hurt, but he just stayed quiet and wouldn't cry. You know? A child's silence is worse than tears."
Silence on the other end. Julian seemed to sense my shift in mood.
"Anthea, you're a good teacher," he said gently. "That kid's lucky to have you. But don't carry all the weight yourself, okay? It's just a job. You just got back to the States. Give yourself time to adjust."
"I know. Thank you, Julian." I meant it, then deliberately changed the subject. "So, how are things in London? Going smoothly? I heard it was a tough case."
"Better than expected. The client's ex-husband was a piece of work. But we caught him in a critical mistake. An hour ago, we won."
"Congratulations, Julian, Esquire." I smiled. "I knew you'd pull it off."
"We won, but I've been miserable." His tone carried an appealing hint of complaint. "London's weather is a disaster. It's been raining for days—damp and cold, gets into your bones. So all I've been thinking about is getting back to New York. And..." He paused, his voice dropping slightly. "And seeing you again."
My heartbeat skipped. I gripped the phone tighter. This polite flirtation, completely non-aggressive, still sent a long-forgotten flutter through me.
