**The Puppy**
Emily and her mother lived alone. Of course, Emily had a father, but he was of no use to them. She hadn’t asked questions about him yet. In school, children might brag about whose parents were cooler, but in nursery, toys mattered more than the presence—or absence—of a father.
Olivia had decided it was better if Emily didn’t know. She had fallen hopelessly in love with the man who would become Emily’s father, only for him to announce, when she told him about her pregnancy, that he was married. He had problems with his wife, he said, but he couldn’t leave—her father was his boss. If he did, he’d be left penniless, and surely Olivia didn’t want that? He suggested she “get rid of the child” before it was too late, since she wouldn’t get a penny in child support. And if she chose to go through with it anyway—well, she’d regret it.
She didn’t push. She vanished from his life and raised Emily alone. Emily turned out sweet, and that was enough.
Olivia worked as a primary school teacher while five-year-old Emily went to nursery. They didn’t need anyone else.
After New Year’s, a new P.E. teacher arrived—tall, fit, always smiling. Most of the teaching staff were single women, and they wasted no time circling him like vultures. Only Olivia kept her distance, never laughing at his jokes. Maybe that was why he noticed her.
One day, as she stepped out of the school gates, a Land Rover pulled up beside her. The P.E. teacher stepped out and swung the passenger door open with a grin.
“Hop in,” he said.
“It’s not far, I can walk,” Olivia fumbled.
“Easier to ride than walk, even if it’s close,” he reasoned.
She hesitated but got in. He shut the door, slid into the driver’s seat, and asked for her address.
“I don’t know. Just the nursery number,” she admitted, flushing.
“What nursery?” He frowned.
“Where my daughter goes,” Olivia explained.
“You have a kid? How old?” He’d already switched to informal terms.
“Emily. She’s five.” Olivia grabbed the door handle. “I should go—”
“Wait. Let’s drive.” He turned the key.
Olivia shut the door. Fine. He could drop her at the nursery. Nothing would come of this anyway. Why would a man want a woman “with baggage” when there were plenty of single, childless ones around?
“If you’re not in a hurry…” she sighed.
“Not at all. No wife, no kids waiting.” He offered it freely, sparing her the questions.
“Why’s that? Terrible temper? Women can’t stand you? Or did one break your heart so badly you’re afraid to commit?”
“Feisty. Didn’t expect that from you. There’ve been loves and heartbreaks. Never made it to marriage—not always my fault. Just never worked out. And my temper? Nobody’s perfect, Miss Olivia Taylor. You’re not what you seem either.”
“Regretting the lift yet? Turn here,” she said abruptly.
The car stopped outside the nursery.
“I’ll wait,” he said as she climbed out.
She lingered.
“Don’t. We live close. I don’t want Emily asking questions. Understand, Daniel Wright?” She fixed him with the same stern look she gave confused first-graders. “Don’t wait.” She shut the door and walked off.
She left him sitting there, lost in thought, engine idling before he finally drove away. Ten minutes later, when Olivia emerged with Emily, she sighed—equal parts relief and disappointment. Of course. A woman with a child wasn’t what he wanted. Fine. *We don’t need him either,* she thought.
But the next day, Daniel was waiting at the school gates again.
“Thought I’d run off when I found out about Emily? Nope. Get in. Nursery?” he asked casually.
Olivia smiled and nodded. When she brought Emily to the car, the girl studied Daniel with the same wary look Olivia had given him the day before, then glanced up at her mother.
“This is Mr. Wright, my colleague. He works at our school. Come on, get in,” Olivia said, forcing a cheerfulness she didn’t feel.
Emily didn’t bounce with excitement. She climbed into the back seat in silence, staring out the window.
“Where to?” Daniel asked, turning to her.
“Not too far. No child seat—we could get fined,” Olivia answered for her.
“How about the arcade? Too cold for the park. Emily, sound good?” Daniel asked, loud and bright.
Emily didn’t answer. The window held her attention like nothing else in the world mattered. Daniel smirked and drove off.
At school, conversations halted when Olivia entered the staff room. When Daniel walked in, colleagues hurried out with knowing smirks.
He didn’t rush things. Twice, he left after dinner. The third time, he stayed until morning. Olivia slept fitfully, waking to check the clock—terrified Emily would walk in on them.
“Relax. She’s smart. She’ll adjust,” Daniel murmured at dawn, pulling Olivia close.
She slipped free and got up. On weekdays, Emily slept like a log—today, of course, she woke early. By the time Emily entered the kitchen after washing up, Olivia was flipping pancakes while Daniel sat at the table.
“Hello,” Emily said, surprised, looking to her mother for an explanation.
“Breakfast’s ready. Sit.” Olivia smiled—first at Daniel, then at Emily—and brought the pan to the table.
She served Daniel first. Emily noticed.
“Enjoy,” Olivia said, pouring tea. “How many sugars?”
“Two.” Daniel watched Emily. “Bet I can finish these faster than you.”
“Why?” Emily eyed him.
“Just for fun.” He faltered. “Real men take challenges head-on. Ready?” He forked a bite, chewing noisily.
Emily ate slowly, indifferent to winning. Olivia was torn—proud her daughter couldn’t be goaded, but stung that Daniel left her cold.
“Your mum said your birthday’s coming up. What do you want? A Transformer? Remote-control car?” Daniel tried another angle.
“I want a puppy,” Emily said.
“Robotic ones are for babies,” Daniel scoffed.
“A real one.” Emily gave him a look reserved for clueless adults.
“We’ve talked about this. Puppies need attention—not like cats. They chew things, make messes, need walks. We’re out all day,” Olivia cut in. “When you’re older—”
“Then I don’t want anything.” Emily’s disappointment was plain.
“Finish up. We’ll go to the shops. Maybe you’ll see something else,” Daniel said, swallowing the last bite.
March ended bitterly. Snow had melted under the sun, but now icy winds hurled needle-sharp flurries at them as they headed to the mall. Olivia browsed clothes—Emily outgrew everything by spring—while Daniel played toy expert. Emily barely glanced at robots or cars. Only a sleek Transformer sparked her interest—until Olivia pulled her away to try on a coat.
They left with bags—one large, holding a box. Daniel guessed it was the Transformer.
As they crossed the car park, a flurry of snow hit. Something small and shaggy darted at their feet. Daniel cursed.
“Did you see that? Could’ve stepped on it,” he muttered.
Emily spotted the shivering, mud-streaked lump cowering by Daniel’s shoes.
“Piss off.” He kicked it, sending the puppy sprawling with a yelp.
Emily lunged, scooping it up, glaring at Daniel with hatred.
“You—jerk!” she screamed.
“Emily! Apologise right now!” Olivia demanded.
Emily clung to the trembling pup, unrepentant.
“She’s filthy. Might be sick. Put her down!” Olivia insisted.
Emily’s glare said *never.*
“She’ll freeze. We’ll clean her. I’ll clean up after her.” Her lips wobbled.
“Your mum’s right. What if she’s diseased? Next weekend, we’ll get a healthy one from a breeder,” Daniel said, handing the bags to Olivia. “Give her here.”
Emily clutched the pup tighter, spun, and ran—straight into a reversing car.
“Emily!” Olivia screamed, frozen.
The car clipped her, not hard, but Emily sat on the tarmac, tears streaming, still gripping the puppy.
“Where does it hurt? Let her go—you could’ve been killed!” Olivia wiped her daughter’s face.
“Watch your kid, lady,” the driver snapped. “Not my fault—blind spot!”
“Nobody’s blaming you,” Daniel said, steering them to the pavement. “Drop that mutt. Kid’s spoiled rotten—needs discipline.”
“Enough. Let’s go home,” Olivia said wearily.
“She’s mine. And I’m not going with *him*,”As the puppy nestled into Emily’s arms and licked her cheek, Olivia realized that sometimes happiness was simpler than she’d dared to hope—just a child, a rescued pup, and the quiet peace of knowing they had all they truly needed.
