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What does this mean for Rendal and me? We've been friends, co-parents in a way, brought together by our daughters' friendship. But now? My stomach does a little flip. Excitementbubbles up inside me, but it's quickly followed by a wave of anxiety.
I watch Penelope across the room, her curly pigtails bouncing as she concentrates on her drawing. She looks so happy, so carefree. What if this doesn't work out? What if Rendal decides he doesn't want this after all? The thought of disappointing Penelope, of disrupting the beautiful friendship she's formed with Zola, makes my chest tighten.
But then I remember the way Rendal looked at me after that kiss. His blue eyes were so warm, so full of affection. It felt...right. Like pieces falling into place.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. This is new territory for both of us. Single parents, with our own baggage and fears. But maybe, just maybe, we can navigate this together.
"Miss Chloe, can you help me with my scissors?" A little voice pulls me from my reverie.
"Of course, sweetie," I say, moving to help. As I guide small hands with safety scissors, I can't help but smile. I have to focus on this right now.
I glance at the clock on the wall and my heart sinks. 6:30 PM. How did it get so late? I was supposed to meet Rendal and the girls at the park an hour ago. Guilt washes over me as I realize I've been so caught up in work that I completely lost track of time.
Honestly, I've been burying myself in my work, staying late so often that I'm sure Penelope hasn't even noticed yet that I should be home. I've been letting myself focus on lesson plans, grading papers, and organizing the upcoming graduation, but it's really just to keep my mind busy. To stop questioning everything.
I scramble for my phone, buried under a pile of colorful construction paper and glitter-covered graduation caps. Myfingers fly across the screen as I type out a quick message to Rendal.
"Sorry, work ran late. Can we reschedule?"
I hit send and let out a frustrated sigh. This isn't like me. I'm usually so on top of things, especially when it comes to plans with Rendal and the kids. Penelope is still with her sitter, and I know she's going to be disappointed. But lately, it feels like there aren't enough hours in the day.
The kindergarten spelling bee is coming up fast, and I want everything to be perfect for my little students. It's a big milestone, after all. But as I look around at the chaos of my classroom - half-finished decorations, stacks of tiny certificates waiting to be filled out, and glitter seemingly everywhere - I can't help but wonder if I'm taking on too much.
My phone buzzes with Rendal's reply. "No worries. I understand. Everything okay?"
His understanding tone only makes me feel worse. I can picture Zola and Penelope's faces falling when they realized I wasn't coming. And Rendal, probably trying to cheer them up and explain why I couldn't make it.
I start typing a response, trying to explain, but the words feel inadequate. I'm not sure how to tell him what I've been feeling, or why I've been avoiding him.
Instead, I simply write, "Just swamped with school prep. Rain check for this weekend?"
As I wait for his reply, I lean back in my chair and run a hand through my hair. The classroom feels too quiet now, empty of the usual chatter and laughter. I miss Rendal. I miss Zola. But I still feel something holding me back.
I stare at my phone, my thumb hovering over Rendal's name in my contacts. Another missed outing. Another apology I need to make. The guilt gnaws at me, but I can't seem to break this cycle I've fallen into.
"Mommy, are we going to see Zola and Mr. Rendal today?" Penelope's hopeful voice cuts through my thoughts as she comes into my classroom.
I turn to face her, my heart sinking at the expectant look in her eyes. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Mommy has to stay late at school again. Maybe next time, okay?"
Her little face falls, and I feel like the worst mother in the world. "But you said that last time," she mumbles, turning away.
I want to explain, to make her understand, but how do you tell a six-year-old that her mother is scared of getting hurt again? That I'm letting my fears push away someone who could be wonderful for both of us?
As the days pass, the excuses pile up. A parent-teacher conference runs long, and I miss our planned picnic. A field trip requires extra preparation, forcing me to cancel our movie night. A staff meeting eats into my evening, and I have to raincheck on a trip to the zoo.
Each missed meet-up adds to my stress. I can sense the growing tension between Rendal and me, even through our brief text exchanges. His messages are becoming shorter, less frequent. The warmth that used to radiate from his words is fading, replaced by a polite distance that breaks my heart.
I throw myself into work, convincing myself that it's necessary. But deep down, I know I'm using it as a shield, a way to avoid confronting my feelings.
One evening, as I'm hunched over my desk, buried in a sea of paperwork, my phone buzzes. It's Rendal.
Chloe, we need to talk. Can we meet tomorrow?
My stomach drops. This is it. He's probably had enough of my constant cancellations and excuses. I've pushed him away, just like I feared I would. But isn't this what I wanted? To protect myself? To protect Penelope?
Then why does the thought of losing him hurt so much?
But I force myself to answer.
