After some time, Rachel and I both finished our drawings, though neither of us had revealed them yet.
"Let's make Mumma the judge," Rachel announced with an excited grin. "And the winner will get a prize!"
I chuckled. "Sounds fair to me."
"Mumma, can you please come here?"
Bella glanced up from her laptop, instantly worried. "What is it, baby? Is something hurting?"
Rachel shook her head, curls bouncing. "No, we made drawings, and we want you to say which one is the best!"
Bella's lips curved. "Oh… okay then."
Rachel eagerly held up her drawing first—a bright landscape filled with mountains, a winding river, and clusters of trees. The proud sparkle in her eyes was impossible to miss.
"Wow!" Bella said, smiling wide. "You did such a beautiful job, baby."
"Really? So… will I win?"
Bella laughed softly. "Let me see the other team's drawing first."
She turned toward me, and I handed her my sketch of a rose. Yes—a mafia king can draw. Hard to believe, maybe, but it's true. I learned it from my mother, who's far more talented than I'll ever be.
"Wow," Bella murmured again, this time with a note of surprise.
"How is it?" I asked, watching her reaction.
"You actually know how to sketch."
I shrugged. "Just a hobby of mine."
Rachel gasped, leaning over the sketch. "Wow, Mr. Handsome! Your drawing is so pretty—like my mumma's!"
"You know sketching too?" I asked, honestly impressed.
Bella smiled. "Yes. It's always been something I love to do. Just a hobby… but it makes me feel peaceful."
"I guess we share that in common," I said.
"It seems like it," she agreed, her smile faint but genuine.
Rachel huffed playfully. "Then I'm not the winner. Here, Mr. Handsome—you can have the prize."
She handed me a chocolate, lips pouted dramatically. Who could possibly take candy from that little face? I was just about to give it back when Bella swooped in.
"Don't you want a prize too, baby?" she asked.
"Will I get one too?" Rachel's eyes gleamed with sudden hope. Kids really could switch moods faster than a light.
Bella nodded, smiling softly.
"But I didn't win," Rachel said, shoulders drooping again.
Bella gently took her tiny hands. "It's a participation prize, baby."
"Does everyone who participates get a prize?"
"Winning and losing are just parts of life," Bella explained in her calm, motherly tone. "The important thing is trying your best. Even if you lose, you still worked hard and learned something—and that's already a kind of success. Someday, your effort will earn you the real prize. Always remember that, okay?"
Rachel's eyes lit up again. "Okay, Mumma!"
Bella kissed her forehead, proud and affectionate. She'd explained such a big lesson in the simplest way possible. She really was an amazing mother.
"Then enjoy your prize," I said, handing my chocolate to Bella.
She blinked at me. "What about you?"
"I'm on a diet," I said with a smirk. "You can eat it."
"Thanks," she murmured, amused.
I glanced at my watch—it was getting late, and I had a meeting soon. "I should leave now."
"Okay," Bella replied softly.
"Bye, Mr. Handsome!" Rachel chirped.
"Bye, cutie. I'll see you tomorrow."
On the way to my car, I couldn't stop smiling. Playing with Rachel was fun… but teasing Bella was something else entirely. She looked adorable when she blushed—and the way she fit perfectly in my arms today… well, that was something I couldn't forget. And no, the chocolate wasn't about the diet. Not completely.
****
Bella's POV
It had been five days since Rachel's surgery, and Lucas hadn't missed a single visit. He really meant it when he said he'd come every day. Rachel adored him now—honestly, even I'd gotten used to seeing him around.
He'd gone downstairs to grab coffee, and I was lost in thought when a gentle knock sounded at the door.
"I bought you coffee, Bella," he said as he stepped in.
"Thank you," I replied, taking it from him.
That easily—yes, I'd stopped arguing about his gifts. He wouldn't listen anyway. He stood there, sipping his own cup, while I took a careful sip of mine—only to nearly choke a second later when Rachel spoke up.
"Mr. Handsome, will you marry me?"
I froze. A five-year-old girl, sitting among her toys, had just proposed to a grown man. I sputtered at the thought of having a son in law older than me and ended up spitting the coffee—unfortunately right onto Lucas's coat.
(For the record, the author does not promote child marriage.)
"Are you okay, Mr. Handsome?" Rachel gasped.
I looked up, horrified. His once-immaculate coat now wore a fresh coffee stain. My face heated instantly. "Oh God, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—I'll clean it, quick, or the stain will set!"
I moved to help him, but he caught my wrist lightly.
"It's fine," he said, calm as ever. "Just a small stain. I'll handle it."
Then he disappeared into the washroom, leaving me mortified.
I turned to Rachel, whispering, "Baby, why did you ask him to marry you?"
"Because he's handsome. And he buys me gifts," she answered simply.
I groaned. "Sweetheart, you can't just marry someone because he's handsome."
"Of course I can!"
"Baby, you should marry someone with a good heart too, right?"
"But he has a good heart," she argued, her tiny brows furrowing. "He's caring too. Isn't he, Mumma?"
I sighed. "He is, but he's a lot older than you. Like… more than two decades older."
"What's decades?"
"It means ten years. He's even older than me."
Rachel puffed her cheeks. "But Mumma, age doesn't matter in love."
I nearly choked again. From where she is learning such things. "If you married him, he'd go to jail!"
"Why, Mumma?"
"Because you're five, and child marriage is a crime, baby. When you grow up, you can marry someone you love, okay?"
Rachel frowned stubbornly. "But he's good…"
"Can't you understand?" I said, exasperated but trying not to laugh. "He's an old man!"