Page 2 of Claiming My Nemesis

I shrugged, trying to play it off, but her words hit home. The preschool had become my sanctuary—a place where I could focus all my energy and love without worrying about the messiness of adult relationships. “I just want to make sure they have the best experience possible. This outing is going to be fun for them.”

Jess smiled knowingly. “And for you, too. I’ve seen the way your face lights up when you’re with them. You’re in your element.”

“Guilty as charged,” I admitted with a laugh. “There’s just something about watching them discover new things. It reminds me that the world is still full of wonder, even when life gets complicated.”

Jess nodded, finishing off her coffee. “Well, I’m looking forward to it. Plus, I get to spend the day with Jude, and he’s been talking about this nonstop. He’s convinced he can eat more scoops of chocolate than anyone else.”

“That sounds about right,” I said, smiling at the thought of Jude trying to outdo the other kids. “Just make sure he doesn’t eat so much that he gets sick.”

Jess laughed. “I’ll do my best, but no promises. You know how determined he can be.”

Jess’s kitchen, warm and quiet just moments ago, was suddenly alive with energy as we moved with practiced efficiency to tidy up the dishes. The soft hum of the dishwasher filled the space, blending seamlessly with the sounds of the morning outside—the chirping of birds, the distant buzz of a lawnmower, and the world slowly waking up around us.

“Jude, don’t forget your backpack!”

"I've got it, Mom!" Jude’s voice echoed back from somewhere down the hall, full of the boundless energy that only a four-year-old could muster.

I couldn’t help but smile as I watched Jess move through her morning routine with ease. There was a rhythm to it, a practiced choreography that spoke to the countless mornings she’d spent balancing motherhood, being a wife, and volunteering at the school.

It was moments like these that reminded me why she was my best friend—no matter how hectic things got, she always managed to keep her sense of humor intact. There was a lightness in her step, a confidence in the way she handled the chaos that made me both admire her and feel a pang of envy.

I found myself thinking back to when we first met years ago—when I was fresh out of college and taking my first steps into the teaching world. Jess had been the one to show me the ropes, guiding me through the maze of lesson plans, parent-teacher conferences, and the million little things that come with shaping young minds. She had a way of making everything seem less daunting, and over time, she became my rock, especially after Jason.

Jason. The name still stung, even now, though I’d gotten good at burying those feelings. It had been over a year since our breakup, but the wounds were still hidden beneath the surface. I could still picture his smile, the way he used to look at me like I was the only person in the world that mattered. But that was before the lies and before I found out that I was just another part of his carefully curated image, a box to be checked on his way to success.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the present. Today wasn’t about the past; it was about the kids, about giving them the best experience possible. They deserved my full attention, not the ghosts of relationships past.

“Okay,” I said, checking my list for the third time, “I’ve got the permission slips and enough sunscreen to last a week. I think we’re good to go.”

Jess peeked over my shoulder, giving the list a quick once-over. “You’re as organized as ever—you’ve got this down to a science.”

I laughed, shrugging off the compliment. “It’s all about preparation. You never know what’s going to happen when you’re dealing with a group of four-year-olds.”

Jess grinned. “Well, with you in charge, I’m sure it’ll be smooth sailing.”

Just then, Jude came barreling into the room, his backpack slung over one shoulder and his shoes untied. “I’m ready!” he announced, clearly eager to get going.

Jess chuckled, reaching down to tie his laces. “You might want to double-knot these, buddy. We don’t want you tripping on your own feet before we even get there.”

As she worked, I did a quick mental inventory, noting the first aid kit, wet wipes, and mini bottles of water were in the cupboard at school. This wasn’t my first field trip with the kids, and it wouldn’t be my last, but I knew better than to underestimate the potential for chaos. Still, I couldn’t help but feel the thrill of it all. Bright Horizons had been my sanctuary, my creation. I’d poured my heart and soul into this place, and seeing it thrive brought me a sense of fulfillment I hadn’t found anywhere else.

“Alright,” I said, clapping my hands together as Jude stood up, “let’s get this show on the road. I’ll meet you guys at the school.”

Jess gave me a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll be right behind you.”

We headed out to our cars, the morning sun peeking through the leafy neighborhood. As I slid into the driver’s seat, I took adeep breath, letting the calm before the storm settle over me. It was going to be a good day—I could feel it in my bones.

As I pulled out of the driveway, I caught a glimpse of Jess and Jude in my rearview mirror, both of them animatedly chatting, no doubt about the day ahead. Moments like these made me grateful for the life I’d built, surrounded by people who truly cared about me and the work I did.

The drive to the school was short, but it gave me just enough time to mentally run through the day’s itinerary one more time. We’d start with getting in line and taking the short walk to the ice cream shop. Then, after everyone had their fill of sweet treats, we’d head back to the school for some outdoor playtime before calling it a day. Simple, straightforward, and hopefully, incident-free.

I pulled into the parking lot at Bright Horizons Preschool, where a handful of parents were already dropping off their kids. The sight of the familiar building, with its colorful mural and welcoming front doors, filled me with a sense of pride. Every brushstroke on that mural, every piece of furniture inside, had been carefully chosen to create a nurturing environment where children could learn and grow.

As I stepped out of the car, I noticed Betsy, one of my assistants, greeting a parent dropping off her daughter, Lily. Betsy, with her short brown hair and kind smile, knelt down to Lily’s level, taking her hand gently.

“Good morning, Lily!” Betsy said cheerfully. “Are you ready for our big adventure today?”

Lily nodded; her eyes wide. “I’m gonna get strawberry ice cream!”

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