The Puppy
Lily and her mum lived alone. Lily had a father, of course—she just didn’t need him. For now, she hadn’t asked questions. In school, kids cared whose parents were the coolest, but in nursery, toys mattered more than the presence or absence of a dad.
Emma had decided it was better if Lily never knew how madly she’d fallen for what would soon become her father—only for him to announce, when told about the pregnancy, that he was married. Yes, he had problems with his wife, but leaving wasn’t an option—her father was his boss. If anything happened, he’d be left penniless, and Emma doubted he’d be much use to her then. Better to get rid of the child while she still could, he’d advised, because he wouldn’t pay a penny in support. And if she insisted? Well, she’d regret it…
She never pushed. She vanished from his life and raised Lily alone. And Lily turned out lovely, which was enough.
Emma worked as a primary school teacher, and five-year-old Lily went to nursery. They didn’t need anyone else.
After New Year, a new P.E. instructor joined the school. Tall, fit, always smiling. Every single woman on staff—and there were plenty—started angling for his attention. Only Emma kept her distance, never laughed at his jokes. Maybe that was why he noticed her in the first place.
One afternoon, as she stepped through the school gates, an SUV pulled up beside her. The P.E. teacher got out and swung open the passenger door.
“Hop in,” he grinned, nodding inside.
“Oh, I don’t have far to go,” Emma said, flustered.
“Still, better than walking, even if it’s just round the corner,” he pointed out reasonably.
She hesitated but slipped into the seat. He shut the door, started the engine, and asked for her address.
“I don’t actually know it. Just the nursery number.” She fiddled with her scarf.
“Which nursery?” He looked puzzled.
“The one my daughter goes to,” Emma explained quickly.
“You’ve got a kid? How old?” For some reason, he’d switched to first names already.
“Lily. She’s five.” Emma grabbed the door handle. “Maybe I’ll walk after all—”
“Hold on. Let’s go.” He turned the key.
Emma shut the door. It wouldn’t hurt to get a lift to pick up Lily. It wasn’t like anything could happen between them anyway. What man wanted a “package deal” when there were plenty of single, child-free women around?
“Well, if you’re not in a rush…” She sighed.
“Not at all. No wife, no kids waiting for me.” He offered the information unprompted, saving her the questions.
“How come? Terrible temper? Women can’t stand you? Or did someone break your heart so badly you’re scared to commit?” Emma asked.
“Feisty. You hide it well.” He smirked. “Been there, done that—love, heartbreak. Never made it to the wedding, and not always my fault. Just never worked out. As for temper… no one’s perfect, Miss Emma. And you’re not as meek as you look.”
“Regretting giving me a lift yet? Oh, turn into this car park, please,” she added quickly.
The SUV stopped outside the nursery gates.
“I’ll wait,” the P.E. teacher said as Emma stepped out.
She lingered by the car. “Don’t bother. We live close. I don’t want Lily asking questions. Get it, James?” She gave him the same stern look she reserved for confused Year Ones. “Don’t wait.” She shut the door and walked off.
She left, but James Whitmore sat there for minutes, thinking. Then he started the engine and drove away. When Emma emerged ten minutes later, hand in hand with Lily, she exhaled—relieved, but a little disappointed. Of course. A woman with a child wasn’t what he wanted. Fine. “We don’t need him either,” she told herself.
Yet the next day, James was waiting at the school gates again.
“Bet you thought I bolted when I heard about your daughter. Guess again. Get in. Nursery?” he asked casually.
Emma smiled and nodded. When she brought Lily to the car, the girl studied James with the same sceptical look her mum had worn the day before, then glanced up at Emma.
“This is Mr. Whitmore. He works at my school. Don’t just stand there—hop in,” Emma said, forcing cheerfulness to mask her awkwardness.
Lily didn’t bounce with joy or scramble inside. With solemn focus, she climbed into the back and stared out the window.
“Where to?” James asked, turning to her.
“Uh, not too far. No child seat—we could get fined,” Emma answered for her.
“How about the arcade? Too cold for the park. Lily, sound good?” James asked, overly bright.
Lily didn’t look away from the window, as though nothing else in the world mattered. James smirked and pulled away.
At school, whispers followed Emma into the staff room. And whenever James walked in, colleagues scattered, exchanging knowing smirks.
He didn’t rush things. Waited patiently. Twice, after dinner at Emma’s, he left. The third time, he stayed till morning. Emma slept fitfully, waking to check the digital clock—terrified Lily might burst in and catch them.
“Come on, she’s smart. Let her get used to it,” James murmured at dawn, pulling Emma close.
She slipped free and got up. On weekdays, Lily slept like a log, but today—of course—she was awake early. When the girl walked into the kitchen after washing up, Emma was flipping pancakes, and James sat at the table.
“Hello?” Lily blinked, looking to her mum for an explanation.
“All clean? Sit down, then.” Emma smiled first at James, then Lily, and brought the pan to the table.
She served James first, then Lily—a detail the girl didn’t miss.
“Enjoy,” Emma said, pouring tea. “How many sugars?” she asked James.
“Two.” James watched Lily. “So, race you to finish your pancakes?”
“Why?” Lily frowned.
“For fun.” James faltered. “Real men take challenges head-on. Ready?” He forked a bite, slurped his tea loudly.
Lily chewed slowly, making no effort to compete. Emma was proud she didn’t give in to dares—but sad, too. James wasn’t winning her over.
“Your mum said your birthday’s soon. What’ll it be? Action figure? Remote-control car? Any ideas?” James tried another angle.
“I want a puppy.”
“Robotic one? That’s kid stuff,” James said dismissively.
“A real one.” Lily gave him a look reserved for clueless adults.
“We’ve talked about this,” Emma cut in. “Puppies need attention. They chew, make messes, need walks. We’re out all day, love. When you’re older—”
“Then I don’t want anything.” Lily’s disappointment was plain.
“Finish up. We’ll hit the shops—maybe you’ll see something else,” James said, swallowing his last bite.
March ended with an icy snap. The thaw had nearly cleared the snow when another flurry hit, wind whipping stinging flakes into faces.
They headed to the shopping centre. Emma browsed clothes—Lily outgrew everything, shoes especially, which cost nearly as much as adult sizes. She hunted for bargains.
Meanwhile, James played toy expert, showing Lily robots and cars. She barely glanced until he held up a model transformer. For a second, her eyes lit up—but Emma whisked her off to try coats.
Leaving the shops, they carried bags—one large, holding that transformer box.
As they reached the car park, another flurry hit. Something small and furry darted underfoot. James cursed.
“Did you see that?” he demanded. “Nearly squashed the thing.”
At his feet, Lily spotted a shivering, muddy fluffball, tail tucked.
“Piss off,” James muttered, nudging it with his shoe. The puppy yelped, skidding toward the tyres.
Lily lunged, scooping it up and glaring at James.
“You—you’re horrible!” she shouted.
“Lily! Apologise now!” Emma snapped.
Clutching the trembling pup, Lily refused.
“She’s right—it’s filthy, probably sick. Put it down!” Emma insisted.
But Lily’s grip tightened. Emma knew—she wouldn’t let go.
“He’ll freeze. We’ll wash him. I’ll clean up after him,” Lily whispered, lips trembling.
“Your mum’s got a point. What if he’s got something? Next weekend, we’ll get a proper pup from the breeder,” James said, handing Emma the bags. “Give him here.” He reached out.
Lily spun and bolted down the row—just as a car reversed.
“LLily tightened her grip on the shivering puppy, her tears mingling with the icy wind, and in that moment, Emma knew—no matter how lonely the road ahead might be, some loves were worth holding onto, even if they came with muddy paws and chewed-up shoes.
