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.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
Nicola TaylorAs I wrapped up my last class, I started packing up after the assistant teacher took the students out for drop-off. A knock on my classroom door made me look up to see James, one of my fellow teachers, standing there.“Oh, hello! What are you doing here?” I greeted him happily as he entered the room.“Wow, Nicola, you look nice. What's the occasion?” he asked, making me blush at the compliment.“Just felt like it,” I answered shyly, remembering how I stopped dressing up two years ago after my last and final breakup. I had dated a man for seven years, supporting him through medical school on my kindergarten teacher’s salary, only for him to leave me once he got placed.But even though I wasn’t going to marry Cole, I did feel the urge to get back out there. For the first time in years, I felt like dressing up and looking nice, and it did pay off. James noticed.I wore a long black bodycon dress with my winter boots, and I had done my makeup too. I let my hair down for the
Nicola TaylorI slipped into the white ballerina dress for the fifth time, questioning if it was too much. Simple yet undeniably sexy, it revealed just enough cleavage and thigh to captivate a man's attention. Despite my attempts to deny it, I knew deep down I was dressing to impress Cole. I couldn't help but feel attracted to him, a fact that frustrated me to no end.As I applied a touch of light lipstick, I glanced at myself in the mirror. Brown waves cascaded over my shoulders, my makeup was subtle yet enhancing, and the dress hugged my curves in all the right places. "Oh god, this is too much," I muttered to myself, contemplating whether to change yet again.Just then, the doorbell rang. I cursed under my breath. Heat rushed to my face as I headed to the door, hoping Cole would appreciate the effort and not think I was overdressed.My breath caught in my chest as he stood there, the pink and red flowers contrasting beautifully against his navy suit. I smiled nervously, cheeks flu
Nicola Taylor It had been a month since I last saw Cole. I was grateful he respected my wishes and didn’t keep pushing because, deep down, I knew I would have eventually said yes. Arabella had been wonderfully behaved but unusually quiet. Despite my attempts to engage her with games and conversation, her heart just didn’t seem in it. Tonight was my college reunion, an event I dreaded. College wasn't as bad as high school, but I had been voted "most likely to be single," and here I was, still single. The rough predictions had turned out to be surprisingly accurate. The worst thing was that my ex, Finn, was going to be there with his girlfriend I am guessing. But I had to go, I wanted to meet everyone, my teachers and my friends. I was curious as to what everyone is doing in their life. As I got ready, an absurd idea entered my head. Without a second thought, I picked up my phone and called the number I would have avoided if I'd paused to reconsider. “Hey, you said you wanted to ma
Nicola Taylor“How drunk are you?” Cole asks as I try to find a comfortable spot in his lap.“I have a very low tolerance for alcohol. So, I didn’t really drink a lot, but I am drunk,” I confess, playing with his tie before resting my feet up to get more comfortable. Cole’s eyes linger over my legs as he attempts to adjust my flowy dress to cover my thighs, although unsuccessfully.“Can I ask you something?” I poke his cheek, finally drawing his gaze from my legs to my face. “What is it like to have sex with you? In high school, I heard a lot of rumors. But I’m very curious.”His eyes darken, and I see an expression on his face that I can’t quite decipher. “We should get you home,” he says, attempting to lift me up bridal style.“Oh no. Did I cross a line? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just—” I start, feeling on the brink of tears, but Cole chuckles.“You didn’t offend me. I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to say things you’ll regret,” he replies, settling back ag
Nicola TaylorI grunted silently, praying for the almighty to end my suffering as the students' loud chattering echoed in my throbbing head. What was I thinking getting drunk on a work night? The hangover was so bad it felt like someone was hammering a nail into my brain.“Oh, hello, I thought this might help.” Steph appeared with a bottle of Advil in her hand, making me sigh in relief as the children continued playing during break time.“Oh my god, you are an angel. I really needed this, you’ve no idea.” I quickly took two pills, knowing I had to teach in fifteen minutes.“Well, your eyes are red, and you look very tired, so I could tell. What happened? You don’t usually drink,” she asked, grabbing a chair and sitting beside me.“I saw Finn. He was there with that girl. They’re still going strong,” I mumbled sarcastically, and she gave me a look of pity.“It’s not going to work out. Bad people always suffer,” she tried to comfort me, but I shook my head.“No, somehow I help a man bec
Nicola TaylorI snuggled into my bed, pressing the pillow against my ears to drown out the incessant ringing of the alarm. I was exhausted, mentally and physically drained from constantly thinking about Cole and the confusing mix of emotions our recent encounters had stirred up. How did I go from hating this guy who bullied me throughout high school to feeling sorry for him and getting tangled up in his life?With a groan, I sat up and reached for my phone. Without a second thought, I called Steph. “Hey, Nicola, what’s up? You need a ride?” she asked in her usual cheery voice. How on earth could she be so peppy in the morning?“No, I was wondering if you could cover for me. I think I’m coming down with something,” I lied, my voice still thick with sleep. I could hear the concern in her silence before she spoke.“Wow, first day off in years? Of course, I’ll cover for you. Take care, honey! It’s Friday anyway, enjoy the three days off. But you better be back on Monday,” she teased, maki
Nicola TaylorI hummed softly as the hot water cascaded over my tired muscles, the steam enveloping me in a soothing embrace. The sweet scent of my strawberry body wash filled the air as I lathered it onto my skin, followed by the familiar fragrance of my strawberry shampoo. Yes, I was obsessed with strawberries. Quickly brushing my teeth and taking some Advil for my headache, I threw on a basic tee and shorts, added a touch of makeup to look somewhat human, and tidied up the house a bit. I wondered if he had left, considering how quiet it had been.“You’re still here,” I said, genuinely surprised to find him standing exactly where he was when I had slammed the door shut.“This is nothing. I’ve waited hours for people,” he bragged as he walked past me into the house.People? He means his wife.“Well, as you can see, I’m completely fine. Now you can leave. Thank you for checking up on me,” I said, standing near the door, holding it open.“Close the door, Nicola,” he said, making hims