Chapter 13
Audrey’s POV:
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.
I crouched down to his eye level, carefully choosing my words.
“Noah, why do you want me to become your mommy?”
Noah tilted his head, seeming confused by the question.
He looked up at me with his little face.“I like you.”
Warmth flooded through me, mixed with a subtle ache.
I reached out and gently straightened his slightly rumpled shirt collar, saying softly.
“Noah, I don’t plan to be your mom. As your teacher, I like you very much too. But liking someone doesn’t necessarily mean becoming their mommy. A mommy is a very special existence.”
I carefully continued my explanation in terms a four–year–old could understand.
“A mommy
a very special role, like… like the primary color when painting. It runs through the entire artwork, giving the piece life and soul.”
Noah listened intently, his gaze never leaving my face.
However, as I explained, the light in his eyes gradually dimmed, replaced by unmistakable disappointment.
Just then, the classroom door was gently pushed open.
Caspar Thornton walked in carrying a bag of breakfast and an elegantly wrapped gift box.
He wore a perfectly tailored navy custom suit, his presence commanding and impossible to ignore.
However, his expression clearly showed he was not in the best of moods.
The word “mommy” seemed to hit him like invisible lightning. His eyes suddenly turned cold, his jawline hardened, as if he was suppressing rage.
He placed the breakfast and box on a nearby table.
Then he turned to me, his voice cold as ice. “Ms. Lane, could I have a word with you?”
I felt a chill crawl up my spine. I smiled at Noah and said.
“Noah, I’ll be right back. Why don’t you draw something while you wait?”
Noah nodded, but his eyes showed unease as he looked between his father and me, as if worried about something.
In a corner of the gallery hallway, away from the classroom but still within sight of Noah, Caspar lowered his voice, the fury in his eyes almost burning me,
1/3
8:04 pm PM
PMC
Chapter 13
“I thought you understood that the topic of Noah’s mother is absolutely off–limits.”
His voice was low but full of menace: ‘You shouldn’t bring up his mother in front of Noah, Ms. Lane.”
My instinct was to back down, but when I remembered Noah’s longing eyes, a protective instinct and courage surged within me.
“Why can’t Noah’s mother be mentioned?‘ I asked quietly, trying to control the tremor in my voice,
Caspar’s gaze grew even colder, his lips curving into a mocking smile.
“It seems I’ve been too respectful toward you, Ms. Lane, making you forget your place. You’re just Noah’s art teacher, not a family counselor. My parenting methods don’t need an outsider sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”
I looked directly at this most powerful financial mogul in New York, my voice calm but firm.
‘Mr. Thornton, while I don’t know what happened between you and Noah’s mother, Noah has the right to know about his mother.”
I paused, then continued.
“You might own half of Wall Street, but you don’t seem to be winning any ‘Father of the Year‘ awards. You don’t understand your own son–he’s starving for maternal love, which is every child’s basic need.”
I gestured toward the classroom.
“Have you ever noticed that there’s always a female figure in his drawings? That represents his lack of and longing for maternal love.”
Caspar seemed caught off guard that someone would dare challenge him.
Surprise flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by anger. He was about to retort when we suddenly heard hurried footsteps.
Noah ran out of the classroom and stood in front of me, his small body positioned between us.
He stubbornly glared at his father, his eyes full of accusation, as if silently declaring that Caspar was a bully picking on me.
Seeing Noah’s appearance, Caspar’s expression immediately changed.
The fury in his eyes was extinguished like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on it, replaced by restraint.
He took a deep breath, clearly not wanting to lose his cool in front of his son.
His gaze moved back and forth between Noah and me, his mouth pulling into a forced smile that failed to hide the hurt in his eyes.
“Looks like my son has already made his choice,” he said coldly, keeping his voice extremely low. “Enjoy your art class.”
He turned and left, his steps firm and cold, his retreating figure radiating an indescribable loneliness.
I crouched down and gently hugged Noah: “Thank you, Noah. But you don’t need to protect me like that.”
Noah seemed to find it easier to talk to me.
2/3
1:04 pm P M
Chapter 13
He made you sad.”
Four simple words that struck me directly in the heart.
I felt simultaneously touched by his protective instinct and guilty for creating tension between father and son.
I brought Noah back to the classroom and saw the breakfast Caspar had left behind, along with the exquisite art supplies that came with a card–a gift specifically prepared for me.
This made my feelings about Caspar even more complicated.
On one hand, his care for Noah was obvious–the fact that he’d gone out of his way to prepare gifts and breakfast for Noah’s teacher proved that.
On the other hand, his extreme reaction to the topic of ‘mommy” left me completely puzzled.
Noah’s gaze followed the direction of his father’s departure through the window, his eyes revealing complex emotions, mixing guilt and attachment.
“Noah,” I said gently, sitting beside him, “your daddy loves you very much. Sometimes grown–ups have complicated feelings that are hard to explain.”
He looked up at me with those impossibly dark eyes.
“Will you stay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Comments
3
Write Comments
SHARE
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
