I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 427 Single father

Alina, who was sitting beside Dante on the edge of the bed, couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the way her mother tried to sound stern and kind at the same time.

"Don’t laugh, Lina," Amelia said at once, fixing her with a very serious expression. "I am being extremely serious right now." The seriousness, paired with her exaggerated frown and half-bald head, made it even funnier.

Dante blinked once, then straightened slightly, answering with calm honesty. "It’s fine," he said. "I am the principal of the kindergarten where Alina works. I also own a company that supplies raw materials to pharmaceutical and medical companies, mainly medicinal plants and related resources."

Amelia’s eyes widened slowly.

"Woah," she breathed, then leaned back against her pillow. "So you’re the boss of a company and a principal?" She turned her head toward Alina at once, pride blooming across her face. "Your aunt told me you got a job in a kindergarten, Lina. I was already so proud." Then her gaze flicked back to Dante. "So... Lina works under you?"

Alina felt her cheeks warm. "Yes, Mom," she said softly. "He’s my boss."

Amelia hummed thoughtfully, eyes moving between them, sharp despite her gentle tone. "Hmm. So you’re her boss, and now you’re her boyfriend too." She paused, then nodded to herself. "Interesting."

Dante didn’t flinch. "I keep my professional and personal life separate," he said evenly. "At work, she is my teacher. Outside, she is Alina."

Amelia studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "Good. That’s good." She reached out and patted Alina’s hand. "My daughter is soft, but she’s not weak. I don’t want her feeling small anywhere."

"I would never make her feel that way," Dante said at once, his voice firm without being loud. "She is... important."

Alina lowered her head shyly, her heart doing that familiar, unsteady thing.

Amelia caught it. She smiled faintly, then looked back at Dante with a gentler expression. "Alright," she said.

She shifted slightly against the pillows, adjusting the blanket over her knees, her eyes bright and curious as she looked at Dante again. There was no sharp judgment in her gaze, only calm attentiveness.

"Tell me more about you, young man," she said cheerfully, waving her hand in a loose, easy motion. "I don’t really have questions prepared. My mind is half empty most days," she added with a small laugh. "I forget things unless I truly want to remember them, so don’t feel pressured. You can tell me anything. Whatever comes to mind."

Dante inhaled slowly, grounding himself. He wasn’t used to this kind of conversation, the kind that wasn’t about power or responsibility, but about simply being seen. "I... have two babies," he said quietly.

Amelia’s brows drew together at once, not in disapproval but surprise. "Two?" she repeated, then tilted her head slightly. "So you’re a single father?"

"Yes," he answered simply.

She nodded, the expression on her face changing into something deeply familiar, something Alina recognized immediately. "I understand the difficulty of single parents," Amelia said softly. "Raising a child alone means you never rest. Even when you sleep, half your heart stays awake."

Alina felt her throat tighten. She lowered her gaze, blinking hard as her eyes filled with tears.

Amelia noticed at once. "Lina," she said gently, reaching out. "Don’t cry."

But Dante had noticed too. He glanced at Alina, then back at Amelia. "She knows," he said. "She sees everything."

Amelia smiled faintly. "Of course she does. She’s my daughter." She looked at Dante again. "I raised Alina alone after her father passed. I worked, cooked, cleaned, worried about money, worried about her future, worried about whether I was doing enough." She chuckled softly. "Most days, I didn’t even know if I was doing things right."

Dante listened without interrupting.

"But children don’t need perfection," Amelia continued. "They need presence. They need someone who stays." Her eyes softened. "If you stayed for those babies... then I already know you’re not a bad man."

Dante’s jaw tightened slightly. "They’re not... easy," he admitted. "They’re sensitive. Emotional. One is too mature for his age, the other hides his fears behind silence. I make mistakes. I lose patience sometimes." His voice lowered. "But I never thought of leaving them. Not once."

Amelia exhaled slowly, as if something inside her eased. "That’s enough," she said. "That thought alone is enough."

Alina wiped her cheeks quietly, her heart swelling painfully. She looked at her mother, then at Dante, and in that moment she felt the strange overlap of her past and her present, woven together in the same room.

Amelia reached for Dante’s hand without hesitation, her grip light but steady. "Then I won’t question your past," she said. "Single parents don’t need interrogation. They need understanding."

Dante blinked, clearly taken aback, then nodded once. "Thank you," he said, warmth settling in his heart.

Amelia smiled, warm, tired, and sincere. "Looks like you and I... we already speak the same language."

And he smiled.

"Yeah... sure," Dante said, the corner of his lips lifting naturally this time, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.

"How old are the babies?" Amelia asked, leaning forward with sudden interest, as if the thought had only just landed properly.

"One is two years old, and the other is four," he replied, the smile staying, softer now, almost instinctive whenever he spoke about them.

"That’s so young," Amelia breathed, her eyes widening in honest shock. "So little... you’ve been carrying a lot on your shoulders."

Before Dante could respond, a small, hesitant voice cut through the room.

"Dad...?"

The door creaked open, slow and careful, and Sable stepped inside, clutching a wrapped candy in both hands. He froze the moment he saw the unfamiliar woman sitting on the bed, her head almost bald, her eyes gentle but curious, with Alina and Dante beside her on the edge of the bed. To him, it looked exactly like one of those serious adult talks he wasn’t supposed to interrupt.

His eyes widened, and he instinctively took a tiny step back.

"I—I’m sorry..." he said nervously, his voice small and polite. "Did I disturb?"