I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 457 - 456 Grocery shopping

Lucien nodded. He pressed his lips together into a thin line, holding all his words inside. But his hands, at his sides, curled into loose fists. Sable sniffed once, a small, wet sound. Then he threw his arms around Dante’s neck and held on, a tiny barnacle of love and goodbye.

"Come back soon," Sable whispered into his collar.

Dante’s big hand rested on Sable’s small back, holding him close for one second, two seconds longer than usual. "I will."

Everyone except Amelia followed him outside. The morning air was cool, the sky pale and wide above them, as if stretching the moment out cruelly. Alina stood near the steps, her hands folded in front of her, watching him walk toward the car.

He stopped. He turned.

For one long, silent moment, the whole world was just this: the look between them, the space of the driveway, the waiting car.

Alina felt it then...the coming emptiness. It pressed on her from all sides, a heavy, lonely silence that was arriving even before he left. Her eyes burned, but she let no tears fall. She looked right at him, trying to pour everything she felt into that look—the gratitude, the warmth, the love.

He held her gaze. Something passed between them, wordless and deep. Then, quietly, a promise meant only for her: "I’ll call."

She nodded, a small movement of her chin. "I’ll wait."

With one last look at the boys, at Aunt Lyla, at her...he got into the car. The engine came to life, a low sound that broke the morning. Slowly, as if the car itself were reluctant, it began to move. It carried him down the drive, away, around the bend, and then it was gone.

Alina stood there. The world rushed back in, but it was a different world now. The silence was not peaceful. It was a presence. It sat on her shoulders and filled her chest where her heart had been. It was a hollow, echoing thing.

She turned and went inside. The house was the same. The couch was the same. The light through the window was the same.

And yet, nothing was the same at all.

Evening settled gently over the house, the light outside turning soft and golden, slipping through the windows in long, quiet streaks. Alina tied her hair loosely and glanced toward the boys, who were already waiting near the door, shoes on, little jackets zipped up with uneven care. Their excitement was written all over their faces, the kind that made their feet bounce even when they tried to stand still.

"I’m taking them grocery shopping," Alina said, lifting her voice toward the kitchen.

From inside, the sound of clattering utensils paused for a second before Aunt Lyla called back cheerfully, "Yeah, go on. Don’t forget milk—and whatever snacks they point at," she added knowingly.

Alina smiled. She took her aunt’s car, since her own car was at the kindergarten. She helped Sable climb into the back seat first, buckling him in carefully, then did the same for Lucien, who watched her hands with quiet attention as she fastened his seatbelt. Once both boys were settled, she closed the door gently and walked around to the driver’s side.

As she started driving toward the nearby market, the boys pressed their faces close to the windows, watching the evening world roll past. Streetlights flickered on one by one, and the sky shifted into soft shades of orange and lavender.

"Mom," Sable said suddenly, his voice light but curious, "are we buying the round bread again?"

Alina glanced at him through the mirror. "The buns? If they’re fresh, yes."

Lucien nodded thoughtfully. "They were good with soup," he added, as if making a serious grocery recommendation.

Alina laughed softly. "Then we’ll get them."

The seat beside her felt emptier than it should have, and her thoughts drifted, uninvited, to Dante. She wondered what he was doing now, whether he had already slipped back into his world of responsibility.

When they walked into the store, the brightness hit them first. Rows of shelves stretched out under white lights, and the familiar smell of bread and fruit settled around them, ordinary and comforting. Alina guided them toward the aisles, already scanning the shelves with practiced ease, her fingers brushing over packets as she decided what to pick and what to leave for another day.

She paused in front of the grains section, eyes moving thoughtfully from one brand to another. "What do you think about...," she began, turning her head to include the boys in the decision, wanting them to feel involved the way families usually did.

Her words trailed off.

Lucien and Sable weren’t looking at her at all.

Both of them were standing very still, side by side, their attention completely captured by a little child sitting inside a shopping trolley a few steps away. The toddler couldn’t have been more than two, cheeks round and pink, tiny shoes kicking the metal bar as he squealed loudly with pure, unfiltered excitement. His laughter echoed through the aisle, drawing a few amused glances from nearby shoppers.

Alina followed their gaze and immediately understood.

Sable’s eyes were wide, reflecting the bright lights above. He leaned forward just a little, curiosity written all over his face. Lucien, on the other hand, watched quietly, his expression thoughtful, as if he were carefully observing a rare phenomenon.

The toddler’s mother pushed the trolley gently, smiling as the child shouted something completely unintelligible, waving his arms like he’d just discovered the greatest joy in the world.

Alina crouched slightly so she was closer to the boys’ level. "You’re watching him," she said softly, not teasing, just stating the obvious. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Sable nodded slowly. "He’s very loud," he whispered, not judging, just fascinated.

Lucien added, "But... he looks happy."

The toddler let out another delighted shriek, kicking his feet against the trolley as his mother laughed and told him to calm down. The sound made Sable’s lips part in a small, unconscious smile.

"He’s sitting inside," Sable said, pointing carefully. "Like a basket."

Alina bit back a laugh and nodded. "That’s called a shopping trolley. Parents put children there so they don’t run around."

Lucien tilted his head. "Is it fun?"

"It depends," Alina replied gently. "Some kids like it. Some don’t."

The toddler suddenly locked eyes with them and grinned, a wide, gummy smile full of pure confidence. He waved at them with sticky fingers.

Sable froze.

Lucien straightened.

The wave seemed to short-circuit Sable’s thoughts for a second before he lifted his hand hesitantly and waved back, slow and careful, as if unsure of the rules. The toddler squealed even louder, thrilled by the response.