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Behind the wedding veil,The Dairy of April

Chapter 11 / 60

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11:Where Hearts Feel at Home

Behind the wedding veil,The Dairy of April

Where Hearts Feel at Home

‎(Ophelia's POV)

‎Saturday mornings had always belonged to the children.

‎No matter how busy life became, Ophelia never missed a visit to St. Anne's Children's Home. It had become more than a place to volunteer; it had become a promise she made to herself after April's death.

‎If she couldn't save her sister...

‎She would spend the rest of her life making sure someone else's child smiled.

‎She parked outside the cheerful cream-colored building just before ten o'clock.

‎The back seat of her SUV was filled with sketchbooks, watercolor paints, crayons, puzzles, storybooks, and cartons of juice.

‎The security guard smiled the moment he saw her.

‎"Good morning, Miss Ophelia."

‎She smiled back warmly.

‎"Good morning, Mr. Musa. How have the children been?"

‎"They've been asking if today is Saturday since Wednesday."

‎She laughed.

‎"I guess I came just in time."

‎As soon as she stepped through the gate, a chorus of excited voices erupted.

‎"Miss Ophelia!"

‎"There she is!"

‎"Teacher is here!"

‎Tiny feet raced toward her from every direction.

‎Before she could even put her bags down, three little girls wrapped themselves around her legs while two boys fought over who would carry the box of crayons.

‎"Easy, easy," she laughed. "If all of you hug me at once, I'll fall over."

‎Seven-year-old Zara folded her tiny arms dramatically.

‎"You promised you'd teach me how to paint butterflies."

‎"I remember."

‎"And Joshua said butterflies are boring."

‎Joshua shrugged proudly.

‎"Dinosaurs are cooler."

‎"Oh?" Ophelia teased. "Then today we'll paint dinosaur butterflies."

‎Joshua frowned.

‎"Those exist?"

‎"They do... in my classroom."

‎The children burst into laughter.

‎One by one, they helped carry the supplies inside.

‎Watching them reminded Ophelia why she loved this place.

‎Here, no one cared about wealth, status, or appearances.

‎The children only cared that she came back.

‎That she kept her promises.

‎And she always did.

‎Nearly an hour later, the recreation hall had transformed into a sea of color.

‎Paint palettes covered the tables.

‎Children giggled as they splashed bright blues, sunny yellows, and deep reds onto blank canvases.

‎Ophelia moved from table to table, encouraging each child.

‎"I love your rainbow."

‎"That's a very brave lion."

‎"Look at those flowers! They're beautiful."

‎As she bent to help a little boy hold his paintbrush correctly, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

‎"I knew I'd find you surrounded by art."

‎Her hand froze.

‎That voice...

‎She turned slowly.

‎Standing near the doorway, dressed casually in dark jeans and a navy shirt, was Ethan.

‎In one hand he carried two large cartons labeled Educational Supplies. In the other was a football tucked beneath his arm.

‎For a second, neither of them spoke.

‎Then Ophelia smiled.

‎"You."

‎He grinned.

‎"You sound disappointed."

‎"I was going to say surprised."

‎"I'll accept that."

‎Before she could say another word, half the children rushed toward him.

‎"Mister Ethan!"

‎"You came!"

‎"Did you bring the football?"

‎He laughed as they tugged at his sleeves.

‎"I did. But only if everyone finishes today's activities."

‎A loud chorus of groans filled the room.

‎Ophelia raised an eyebrow.

‎"They listen to you?"

‎"They pretend to."

‎She couldn't help smiling.

‎"So you volunteer here too?"

‎"Twice a month," he replied. "Mostly sports, homework, and occasionally fixing whatever they've accidentally broken."

‎"Which is often," one of the caregivers added with a chuckle.

‎The children immediately protested.

‎"It wasn't us!"

‎"The window broke itself!"

‎"The football slipped!"

‎Ethan leaned closer to Ophelia.

‎"I'll translate."

‎"They definitely broke the window."

‎She burst into laughter.

‎The rest of the afternoon passed effortlessly.

‎While Ophelia taught painting, Ethan organized games outside.

‎Every now and then their eyes met through the windows.

‎She caught him cheering as a little boy scored a goal.

‎He caught her clapping proudly when a shy girl finished her first painting.

‎It was strange.

‎They had known each other only a short time.

‎Yet being around him felt...

‎Easy.

‎Comfortable.

‎As if silence between them didn't need to be filled.

‎Around lunchtime, the children insisted they eat together.

‎One little girl named Grace looked between Ethan and Ophelia before asking loudly,

‎"Are you two married?"

‎The entire room went silent.

‎Ethan nearly choked on his water.

‎Ophelia blinked in surprise.

‎Then everyone laughed.

‎"No, sweetheart," Ophelia said gently.

‎Grace tilted her head.

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