After that, Mister H became a permanent resident in your life- all thanks to Lua.

Every afternoon, without fail.

You’d pick her up from school, and she’d come bursting out of the classroom like a tiny, overexcited tornado.

"Mummy! Guess what happened today!"

And then it would begin.

"Mister H said my drawing was super-duper good, like an artist!" "Mister H helped Tommy when he cried and then Tommy stopped crying." "Mister H can stack blocks this high- like taller than me!" "Mister H says I’m very res-pon-ible because I put the pencils back."

It didn’t matter how your day had gone, whether work had been exhausting, whether you’d skipped lunch again, whether your head was pounding from everything you were trying to juggle- the moment she grabbed your hand and started talking, you listened.

Even if you didn’t always respond with more than a tired smile and a "that’s nice, sweetheart."

"Mister H says sharing is caring," she told you one afternoon, holding your hand as you walked home. "So I shared my crackers with Lily even though I really wanted them."

"That was kind of you," you said, looking both ways on the road before crossing

"I know" she nodded proudly. "Mister H said so"

✎

You started to build a picture of him without ever seeing his face.

Young, probably, from the way she talked about him. Energetic. Patient. The kind of person who didn’t mind repeating instructions twelve times or tying shoelaces or wiping tears.

"He smells nice" she added one day, out of nowhere.

You blinked. "He… what?"

"Like soap," she said, nodding decisively. "And a little bit like the outside."

You weren’t entirely sure what "the outside" smelled like, but you let it go.

✎

"Mummy," she said one night, while you were helping her into her pajamas, "I’m gonna marry Mister H."

You paused mid-button, looking up to meet her eyes "Oh yeah?"

"Yep," she said, popping the "p" with confidence. "When I’m big"

"And what do you think Mister H will say about that?"

She frowned like it was a silly question. "He’ll say okay"

You huffed a quiet laugh. "I’m sure he will"

"And you can come over," she added generously. "But you have to knock first"

"How kind of you to allow me into your future home."

She beamed. "I know"

✎

It kept going.

Days turned into weeks, and Mister H somehow became the most talked-about person in your household.

Sometimes it was big things.

"Mister H read us a story and did all the voices and he made the dragon sound so real-"

Other times, it was small.

"Mister H tied my shoe ‘cause it was floppy"

"Mister H says my name nice"

"Mister H picked me to hold the door"

You didn’t realize how much attention you were paying until one afternoon, you were running late.

Work held you back, traffic had been a nightmare. By the time you rushed through the school gates, slightly out of breath and already apologising in your head, most of the kids had gone.

Your daughter was sitting on a little bench outside the classroom, swinging her legs.

And beside her-

A man.

You slowed instinctively.

He was crouched slightly so he was more at her level, talking to her with an easy, patient expression. When she said something- fast, animated- he laughed, soft and warm.

You couldn’t hear the words.

But you knew.

That had to be him.

Mister H.

Before you could get closer, your daughter spotted you.

"Mummy!" she shouted, jumping off the bench and running straight at you.

You barely had time to brace before she crashed into your legs.

"Hi, baby," you said, catching your breath as you hugged her. "Sorry I’m late"

"It’s okay," she said quickly. "I was with Mister H"

Of course you were.

You glanced up-

But he’d already stood, giving you a small, polite wave before ducking back into the classroom to gather something.

You didn’t even get a proper look.

And somehow, that made it worse.

✎

By the time parent-teacher afternoon came around, it felt like you were about to meet a minor celebrity.

At least, in your daughter’s world.

"You have to be nice" she told you that morning, standing on a chair while you tried to brush her hair into something presentable.

"I’m always nice" you said with a frown, worried that she thought of you unkind.

She squinted at you in the mirror, clearly unconvinced. "No, like… extra nice"

"I’ll try my best" you muttered, gently tugging a knot free.

"And don’t be weird" she added.

You paused. "Define weird, bug"

"Like when you talk to the lady at the shop and then you keep talking"

"I’m making conversation." You tried to reason with her.

"You talk too much" she said bluntly.

You stared at her reflection. "Wow. Alright."

"And don’t call him Mister H," she went on, very serious now. "Only we say that"

"Oh, there are rules?"

"Yep" She nodded, blinking really hard.

"Good to know."

✎

The sun was setting as you pulled up to the school.

Lua was buzzing in her seat, kicking her legs as she rambled, making you smile.

You got out, bringing your bag as you rounded the car, opening her door and unbuckling her from her car seat.

"Are you excited?" You asked her, beaming yourself as she nodded excitedly.

"Uh huh! I wanna show you Mister The Frog!"

You hummed, lifting her up and placing her on the ground.

"That’s the class pet, right?"

She nodded "But it’s not actually a frog, mama, it’s a hamster"

"Right, I remember you telling me that now" you recalled as you examined her.

She had insisted she picked out her own clothes, opting for a yellow sweater underneath her blue overalls, hair in pigtails with little ribbons.

You had asked her why she had picked those out when she presented them to you, only to get giggles and a shrug in response.

Pink dusted her cheeks as she lifted her hand for you, making grabby hands as she bounced on her feet, pointing to the school.

"Mama, mama, let’s gooo" she yelled as soon as you took her hand, practically dragging you inside the gates.

The halls were cold, walls decorated in messy art and crafts, a big sign by the entrance in bubble writing, reading;

MEET THE TEACHER

Lua was bouncing off the walls in excitement, waving to the kids who passed, their parents on either side of them, holding hands and conversing.

"It’s this classroom here, mummy!" her giggly voice cut your thoughts as you looked away from the passing families.

The door was open, the sign on the front confirming it was the right classroom.

Mr S. Harrington.

You peeked your head in the crack, noting the empty room, the back of whom you assume was Mister H turned to you from his desk, before you could knock, Lua squealed out, running in.

He turned around at the noise, his face breaking out into a grin as he watched her run to him with her arms wide open.

Not a friendly smile.

Not a forced smile.

A genuine one, smile creases easing onto his cheeks as he chuckled, hoisting her up with a groan as she crashed into him.

"I’m glad you came, Loo!" He whooped, swiftly placing her down after a few too many giggles.

He looked up at you, pushing up his glasses with a breathy huff.

"You must be mum" He stated, his tongue running along his bottom lip, nodding to himself as he assessed you.

You sucked in a breath, blinking as you took him in.

His hair perfectly framed his face, falling perfectly in volumised strands, moles adorned his skin in a Greek God kind of way.

That’s why she likes him so much, you thought to yourself.

"This is my mummy!" Lua beamed proudly, cuddling up to your leg as you stood, almost frozen.

"Heard a lot about you" He said, holding out his hand for you to shake.

You did, gulping down a lump as his hand swallowed yours entirely, his warm soft hands gentle against yours before he pulled away.

"I could say the same, she always has stories about what she and Mister H get up to" You composed yourself, ignoring the little smack on your thigh from Lua at the use of "Mister H"

"Well, I’d love to show you around the classroom and her work"

"That’d be great!"

✎

After the tour of the class, he sat you down at one of the small tables, squishing into the tiny kids chairs, opening the folder.

He paused, looking around.

"So, are we waiting on anyone, or do you want me to go through it with you?"

You tilted your head "Who would we be waiting on?"

He blinked, clearing his throat "Well, is her father in the bathroom or outside?"

You sighed, pressing your lips into a thin line before shaking your head, "Oh, no...It’s just us"

He nodded understandingly, but you still went on.

"Just her and I...me and her...no daddy, huh?" you breathed, trying to stop your tongue with a humourless chuckle.

He frowned, a furrow etching on his brows as he looked between you and Lua.

"Oh...Oh...but in the family portraits she drew a man...?"

You blanked, thinking back to the drawing so you could answer, only to be cut off by your little girl.

"That was you, Mister H!"

You looked back up at him.

He looked back at you.

And then-

His ears went pink.

"Oh," he said again, this time a little more flustered. "I-uh-okay."

You pressed your lips together, fighting a smile.

"She just talks about you a lot," you said, a little apologetic, a little amused. "You’ve made quite the impression"

"I- yeah, I mean-" He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing under his breath. "That’s-wow."

Lia made a tiny embarrassed noise and hid her face completely now.

He crouched slightly, just enough to catch her attention without crowding her.

"Hey," he said gently. "That’s okay"

She peeked at him through her fingers.

"I’m honored," he added, a small, warm smile tugging at his mouth. "Really"

That earned him a quiet giggle.

And just like that, the tension melted.

You watched the two of them for a moment.

The way he handled it, careful and kind, not making it a big deal, not brushing it off either.

Just… meeting her where she was.

"She’s a really great kid" he said, glancing up at you again, sincerity clear in his expression.

Something in your chest pulled tight.

"Yeah," you said softly. "She is"

There was a small pause.

Not awkward.

Just… full.

Lia leaned into your side again, but this time she wasn’t hiding, just staying close, her fingers curling into your sleeve.

"Mummy" she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"I told you he was nice."

You let out a quiet breath, your gaze flicking back to him.

He was already looking at you.

A little curious.

A little amused.

"Yeah," you said, a small smile forming despite yourself "You did"

Still, as he started talking about your daughter, about how kind she was, how she always helped clean up, how she insisted on sharing her crayons, you found yourself only half-listening.

Because now you understood.

Completely, undeniably understood…

Why your daughter had come home on the very first day and said, I love Mister H.