Six years ago, Dylan Caldwell was left behind by the love of his life without no clue as to why. It hurt for a long time, but now he has this little ray of sunshine and happiness in his life. His daughter Isabella.
Between being a partner at a firm...
I have a little present for you guys at the end of the chapter :):) Enjoy!
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Approximately fifteen days ago, Dylan recieved an e-mail with a cute motif from Isabella's pre-school. At first, he thought these e-mails were preciously detailed with virtual letter blocks, flowers and rubber ducks. He remembered thinking that he made a good choice of enrolling Izzy to the school and that he found a place who would go the extra mile for the children.
Later, he found out that this was total and utter bullshit and that the same pleasantly structured e-mails were nothing more than a ploy to imply a false sense of security and that while you're distracted by the thought of spring or a nice warm bubblebath they're telling you what disgusting and infectous disease your child is bringing home to you from their germ-infested cesspool.
First e-mail? Lice infestation. Dylan got a nervous tick and the need to shave his head when he looked back at the "Pest-ageddon of 2015", then again he also reminisced about the fond memory of him and his daughter sitting comfortably next to the fire of their burnt bedsheets. He recalled Isabella asking if they could make s'mores, but the visual picture of grilling marshmallows upon the flames containing hundreds of dead creepy crawlers made Dylan visibly shudder and quash the idea immediately.
While deciding on whether or not he should open the e-mail, Dylan felt this strained tension between his shoulder blades moving up to his neck and to the base of his skull earning himself quite the annoying headache. When he finally got around to opening the e-mail he sighed relievingly. It turned out to be a warning sent to all parents regarding the flu-season and figuring out that he was off the hook, the headache immediately dispersed.
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That is, until he went to pick up his daughter three days later and witnessed as she sneezed all the way from the gate to the parking lot, but that was not the problem. He's handled a sick Isabella countless of times before, and he is well aware that it is stated in the parent job-description. The problem was the incessant visits from his parents, Melissa and Noah.
After he had arrived home from the pediatrician with Isabella and a bottle of prescriptioned antibiotics he noticed a familiar silver and black Range Rover Evoque parked at his driveway and audibly groaned. Stepping out of his car and carrying a dozed off Isabella, he then spotted a grinning man-child sitting on the porch swing in his patio.
