A Pup’s Journey

**The Puppy**

Lily and her mum lived alone. Her father? Well, he existed, but he didn’t matter. Lily hadn’t asked about him yet—in nursery, toys were more important than which parents you had.

Emma had decided it was better Lily didn’t know the truth—that she’d fallen for the man who would become her father, only for him to confess, when she told him about the pregnancy, that he was married. His wife’s father was his boss, he said. If he left her, he’d be ruined. And did Emma really want a man with nothing to his name? He suggested she “take care of it” before it was too late. There’d be no child support—just trouble if she pushed.

She vanished from his life without a fight, raised Lily alone. And Lily turned out kind. That was enough.

Emma taught Year Two. Five-year-old Lily went to nursery. They needed no one else.

After New Year’s, the school hired a new PE teacher—tall, fit, always smiling. Most of the female staff, single and eager, flirted and laughed at his jokes. Emma didn’t. Maybe that was why he noticed her.

One afternoon, as she left the gates, a Range Rover pulled up beside her. The PE teacher, James Hartley, stepped out and opened the passenger door.

“Need a lift?” he asked, tilting his head toward the seat.

“It’s not far,” Emma said, flustered.

“Still better than walking.”

She hesitated, then climbed in. He shut the door, started the engine. “Where to?”

“I don’t know the address. Just the nursery number.”

“Nursery?”

“Where my daughter goes.”

“You’ve got a kid?” He’d already switched to casual *you*.

“Lily. She’s five.” Emma reached for the handle. “I’ll walk.”

“Wait.” He turned the key. “Let’s go.”

She let go of the door. Fine. He could drop her off. It wasn’t like this would lead anywhere. Why would a man want a woman with baggage when there were plenty free and childless?

“If you’re not in a rush…” Emma sighed.

“Nowhere to be. No wife, no kids,” he offered before she could ask.

“Why’s that? Terrible temper? Or did some woman break your heart?”

“Feisty. Didn’t see that coming.” He chuckled. “Had my share of love and heartbreak. Never made it down the aisle—not always my fault. And my temper’s no worse than yours, *Miss Dawson*.”

“Regretting the lift yet? Turn here.”

The car stopped outside the nursery.

“I’ll wait,” James said as she got out.

She lingered. “Don’t. We live close. I don’t want Lily asking questions. Understood, *Mr. Hartley*?” Her tone was firm, like she was scolding a stubborn pupil. “Don’t wait.” She shut the door and walked away.

James sat there a moment, thinking. Then he drove off. When Emma emerged ten minutes later, hand in Lily’s, she exhaled—relieved, but a little disappointed. Of course. A woman with a kid wasn’t what he wanted. Fine. *We don’t need him either*, she thought.

But the next day, James was waiting again.

“Thought I ran off when I heard about Lily? Wrong.” He grinned. “Nursery?”

She nodded, smiling. When she led Lily to the car, the girl studied James with the same sceptical look Emma had given him, then glanced up at her mother.

“This is Mr. Hartley. He works at my school. Get in.” Emma forced cheerfulness, masking her discomfort.

Lily didn’t squeal or bolt to the car. She climbed silently into the back and stared out the window.

“Where to?” James turned to her.

“Not far. No child seat—we’ll get fined,” Emma answered for her.

“How about the arcade? Too cold for the park. Lily, good with that?”

No reply. She kept staring, as if the world outside held all the answers. James smirked and drove off.

At school, whispers trailed Emma. When James entered the staff room, colleagues scurried out, smirking.

He took his time, patient. Twice, he left after dinner. The third time, he stayed till morning. Emma slept fitfully, checking the clock—terrified Lily would catch them.

“Relax. Kid’s clever. She’ll adjust,” James murmured at dawn, pulling Emma close.

She slipped free. On weekdays, Lily slept late. Today, of course, she was up early. When she walked into the kitchen after washing up, Emma was flipping pancakes. James sat at the table.

“Hello,” Lily said, surprised, looking to her mother for explanation.

“Breakfast,” Emma said brightly, serving James first—something Lily noted immediately.

“Two sugars,” James said when she asked, watching Lily. “Race you with the pancakes?”

“Why?”

“Just for fun. Real men take challenges.” He took a noisy bite.

Lily chewed slowly, indifferent to winning. Emma was proud but sad—Lily didn’t like him.

“Mum said your birthday’s coming. What do you want? Transformer? RC car?”

“A puppy.”

“Robotic one?”

“A *real* one.” Her tone dripped disdain.

“We’ve talked about this,” Emma cut in. “Puppies need care. We’re out all day. When you’re older—”

“Then I don’t want anything.”

“Finish up. We’ll go shopping. Maybe you’ll see something,” James said.

Late March brought an icy relapse. Snow had melted, but now wind lashed them as they left the mall, arms full. A small, shivering bundle darted at their feet.

“Bloody hell—” James cursed.

Lily gasped. A filthy, trembling puppy cowered near his shoes.

“Shoo!” James nudged it away.

Lily lunged, scooping it up, glaring. “You’re *horrible*!”

“Lily! Apologise!”

She clutched the dog tighter.

“It’s dirty. Might be sick,” Emma urged.

“No! He’s freezing! I’ll clean up after him!”

“We’ll get a *healthy* one next weekend,” James said, reaching for it.

Lily spun and ran—straight into a reversing car.

“LILY!” Emma screamed.

The bumper clipped her. She sat on the tarmac, still gripping the whimpering pup, tears streaming.

“Are you hurt? *Let it go*—you nearly got hit!”

The driver argued innocence. James dismissed him.

“Drop that mutt. Kid’s spoiled. Needs discipline,” James growled.

“Stop. Let’s go home,” Emma snapped.

“I’m keeping him. And I’m *not* getting in with *him*.” Lily glared.

“Watch your mouth!” James barked.

“Enough! *He’s my son!*” Emma shouted.

James drove them home in silence. At the door, she told him to leave.

“You’ll regret this,” he hissed before peeling away.

Inside, they bathed the pup. Clean, he was fluffy and sweet. The vet found nothing wrong.

“You saved him. He’ll love you forever,” the vet said, shaking Lily’s hand.

But Emma fretted. “What do we do tomorrow? We’re both gone all day.”

“We’ll put him in the bathroom.”

“And let him howl?”

“He’s smart. It’ll be fine.”

That evening, James arrived with roses.

“I overreacted. Sorry.”

“No, James. This won’t work. Go.”

“Who else’ll want you *with her*?” he sneered.

She shoved him out, slammed the door. In the living room, Lily played with the puppy.

“Mum! He licked me!” Her joy was pure, radiant.

The pup yawned, curled up.

“Was that *him*?” Lily asked.

“Yes. He won’t come back.”

“Good. We have Smiley.”

“Who?”

“That’s his name! Look, he *is* smiling!”

Emma watched her happy child and wondered when *her* turn would come. But not with James. He’d never love another man’s child.

Yet if Lily was happy—maybe that was enough.

Rate article
A Pup’s Journey