Chapter 54: Daddy-mommy
Bella nearly stumbled as she rushed through the school’s gates, her breath ragged from both fear and the hurried cab ride. The receptionist directed her down the hall to the infirmary, and with every step, her chest tightened.
When she finally pushed the door open, her eyes landed on the small figure perched at the edge of a narrow bed.
Timothy.
His tiny legs dangled, his shoes scuffed, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. A faint bruise colored his temple, and his knee was scraped raw, but he was upright and breathing. That was all Bella needed.
"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered, rushing to his side. She dropped her bag to the floor and wrapped him into her arms, pulling him close, pressing her lips against his hair. "Mommy’s here."
He leaned into her hug, his little body stiff for only a second before he melted into her warmth. "I fell, Mommy," he mumbled against her blouse.
"I know, baby. I know." Bella pulled back just enough to look at his face, her hands framing his cheeks as if she could shield him from every scrape and bruise in the world. "Are you hurting? Does it still hurt?"
Timothy shook his head bravely, though his lips wobbled. "Not much."
The nurse stepped forward, offering a clipboard. "He’ll be fine, Miss Howells. Just some scrapes and a little bruise. We’ve cleaned the wound, but keep an eye on him for any dizziness or nausea. Children bounce back quickly, but they sometimes need extra comfort."
Bella signed the papers with a shaky hand and nodded her thanks. The moment the nurse left them alone, she pulled Timothy closer, smoothing his hair. "You scared me, sweetheart. Don’t ever do that again."
"I didn’t mean to fall," Timothy said in a small voice. "I was playing. Then—" He paused, his brows furrowing as if he were sorting through thoughts too big for his little head. "Mommy?"
"Yes, love?"
His wide, innocent gray eyes lifted to hers. "Why don’t I have a daddy? Will I ever have a daddy?"
Immediately, Bella froze. For a moment, she thought she hadn’t heard him right. But the question hung in the air, sharp and heavy, and Timothy was still looking at her with that searching gaze that cut deeper than anything Jake could ever say to her.
Her lips parted, but no words came. "W-what do you mean, Timothy? Why are you asking me that?" she finally managed to ask after regaining her composure.
He fiddled with the edge of his shirt, his voice dropping lower. "Because... when I was playing, I told my friends I didn’t have a daddy. And they laughed at me. They said everybody has a daddy. I said I didn’t, and they kept laughing at me. I was in a hurry to come down and stop them but then I fell."
Tears pricked Bella’s eyes, hot and unbidden. She swallowed hard, her throat thick. "Oh, Timmy..." She brushed a thumb across his cheek. "Why did you tell them that? Do you... do you not like Mommy being your mommy and daddy?"
He blinked, startled. "You’re my daddy, too?" he asked innocently and Bella nodded.
Then slowly, his lips curled into a shy smile. "I do like mommy being my daddy. I like it mommy." His small arms wrapped around her waist, clinging tightly. "You’re the best mommy and daddy ever."
Bella’s heart splintered. She hugged him back, pressing her cheek against his soft hair. "Then don’t you ever say you don’t have a daddy again. Do you understand me, baby?"
He pulled back slightly, confused. "But... I don’t."
"Yes, you do," Bella whispered fiercely, her hand trembling as she cupped his small face. "I’m your daddy and your mommy. Both. I’m everything you need, Timothy. Don’t you forget that."
His face lit up, as only a child’s could. "Really? So I have a daddy now? You’re my daddy too?" he asked again.
Bella forced a smile, though her chest ached with the weight of it. "Yes, baby. You do. I’m your daddy too. No one said I couldn’t be."
Immediately, Timothy beamed, his little voice bubbling with excitement. "I’m going to tell them tomorrow! I’ll say I have the best daddy and mommy in one person."
He laughed, that sweet, innocent laugh that always melted her, and Bella hugged him again, hiding her face in his shoulder so he wouldn’t see her tears.
Her little boy was happy. That should have been enough. But deep inside, sadness and guilt gnawed at her. Would she ever be able to give him the privilege of having a real father? Someone to catch him before he fell, someone to stand tall when his friends laughed?
Her mind betrayed her, conjuring the image of Jake—his cold gray eyes, his stern mouth, the way he’d looked at her earlier with unexpected softness. What would he say if he ever found out Timothy was his child? What would he do? Would he be furious at her for keeping the truth from him? Would he claim Timothy as his own? Or would he reject him?
The thought terrified her as much as it tempted her.
She shook her head quickly, pressing another kiss to Timothy’s forehead as if she could silence the storm inside her. "No," she muttered under her breath. "I can’t tell him. I won’t."
She would rather marry someone else—a stranger, anyone—than risk telling Jake about her son and exposing him to whatever chaos that truth would bring.
Bella straightened, forcing her tears away, and smiled down at her little boy who looked up at her with absolute trust. "Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home. Mommy—Daddy—will make you something special tonight."
Timothy giggled at the word, clapping his small hands. "Okay, Daddy-Mommy!"
His joy was a balm, even if it carved deeper wounds in her heart. Bella held his hand tightly as they walked out of the infirmary together, her steps steady, her resolve stronger than ever.
No one—not Jake, not anyone—could take this fragile world she had built with Timothy away from her.