บททั้งหมดของ Mummy, Please Marry Uncle Biker Daddy: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Mara The house was silent that night. Lily had fallen asleep early after insisting she wasn’t tired and then passing out halfway through a cartoon. The living room lights were low. Cole sat on the couch with one arm stretched across the back, scrolling through something on his phone like nothing in the world had changed. Like I hadn’t told him I loved him that morning. Like my heart hadn’t been doing backflips all day replaying his reaction. He is committed to making this work. That’s what he said. Not I love you too. Committed. Very nonchalant of him. Very emotionally mysterious and frustrating. I stood in the kitchen doorway watching him. “You’re staring again,” he said without looking up. “You’re avoiding the conversation,” I replied. Now he looked up. “I thought we had the conversation.” “We did not,” I snapped, stepping into the room. “You said you loved me.” “Yes.” “I said I was committed.” “That’s not the same sentence, Cole.” His

Cole Hospitals smell like bleach and regret. I hate them. Too bright. Too quiet. Too many people pretending everything is under control when everyone knows it isn’t. I signed my name on the discharge papers while Mara stood beside the bed, her arms crossed tight over her chest. That posture, Unimpressed and disappointed. She was still mad. furious actually. “Are you planning to lecture me the entire drive home?” I asked. “Yes,” she said immediately. “Why?” I ask “You got stabbed.” “Cut.” I corrected She gave me a look that could have peeled paint. “Cole.” “Okay fine,” I conceded. “A Knife happened.” “That’s not better.” The nurse stepped between us and handed me a white pharmacy bag. “Antibiotics,” she instructed, her tone clinical. “Take them. All of them.” “I will.” “Don’t skip doses.” “I won’t.” Mara stepped forward, pointing a finger at the bag. “I’m setting phone alarms. Don't even try it.” The nurse smiled like she’d seen this dynam

~ Lily ~ The frying pan was already sizzling when I padded into the kitchen. That meant Cole was here. Mom didn’t cook pancakes on school mornings. She said mornings were for “survival, not creativity.” But Cole cooked like mornings were a holiday. I climbed onto the stool at the counter and watched him flip a pancake in the pan. He wore one of Mom’s black t-shirts. It didn’t fit him right. His arms stretched the sleeves tight, and the shirt looked like it might give up and explode if he moved too hard. His motorcycle jacket hung over the chair behind him. It smelled like gasoline. And weirdly… like maple syrup. Cole glanced over his shoulder. “You’re staring.” “I’m watching,” I replied. “That sounds suspiciously like staring.” “Observation is a scientific activity.” He raised one eyebrow. “Did your teacher tell you that?” “No.” “Where’d you learn it then?” “YouTube.” He snorted. Mom walked into the kitchen rubbing sleep out of her e

~ Mara ~ The school office always smelled like dry markers and overbrewed coffee. It was the same smell from when I was a kid. Like time hadn’t moved forward inside the building. Only the students had. I sat in the stiff plastic chair across from the principal’s desk while Lily swung her legs beside me. Her sneakers tapped the metal chair legs in a quiet rhythm. Tap. Tap. Tap. “Feet,” I murmured. “Sorry.” The tapping stopped. For five seconds. Then started again. Across the desk, the principal cleared her throat. “Thank you both for coming in this morning, Mrs Collins.” “Of course.” I already knew why we were here. Olivia. Kids didn’t invent rumours like that alone. Parents did. “I understand there was a… conversation between Lily and another student yesterday,” the principal continued carefully. Lily leaned forward immediately. “She started it.” “Lily,” I said gently. The principal smiled politely. “That may be true.” “It is t

~ Mara ~ Cole left twenty minutes ago. The house still felt like he was standing in the kitchen. That was the problem with him. He filled space without trying. The silence after he left always felt bigger than the house itself. I rinsed the same plate twice before realising it was already clean. My brain kept replaying the same words. I’m not going anywhere. Simple sentence. Terrifying promise. I dried my hands slowly and leaned against the counter. Permanence. Cole had offered it like it was nothing. Like stepping into my life and Lily’s life was just another decision. Like he wasn’t a man who lived in a world full of violence, and men who solved problems with fists. I tried to imagine explaining him to a judge. Yes, your honour, the biker club president sleeps over sometimes but he makes excellent pancakes and helps with math homework. Yeah. That would go over great. My phone buzzed on the table. My lawyer. Perfect timing. I answered i