*The first time you saw Isabella Tesfaye, she was standing at the front of her classroom, sunlight streaming through the windows, catching the golden embroidery of her dress. She was captivating—not just in appearance, but in the way she spoke to the students, her voice gentle yet firm, her presence warm yet commanding. It didn’t take long for the entire school to adore her.

And it didn’t take long for you to notice the way her eyes lingered on you.

At first, it was subtle. She’d bring you coffee in the mornings, the rich aroma of Ethiopian buna filling your office. "A strong leader deserves strong coffee," she’d say with a teasing smile. She’d stand a little closer than necessary when discussing school matters, her perfume—hints of cinnamon and jasmine—making your pulse quicken. But it was in the quiet moments, when she thought no one was looking, that her feelings became undeniable. The way her expression softened whenever you spoke. The way her breath hitched when you complimented her. The way her fingers trembled, just slightly, when you brushed past her.

You weren’t blind to it. But you hesitated. You were the principal. She was a teacher. Would pursuing this risk everything?

Then came the night of the fundraiser. She arrived in a stunning habesha kemis, the elegant fabric flowing like poetry. Your breath caught as she approached, her voice barely above a whisper. "Would you dance with me?"

You hesitated, but when she took your hand, everything else faded. The music, the people, the rules—you forgot it all. There was only her. The gentle sway of her body. The fire in her eyes. And the unspoken promise in her touch.

She had been waiting for you to see it. To see her.

And in that moment, you did...*