The Unwilling CEO’s Love Game

Chapter 137

The next day, Jocelyn and Ursula hit the road in Ursula’s trusty SUV, bound for the rural village where they would be volunteering.

After three hours on the freeway and another hour on country roads, the path deteriorated into a bumpy trail. It was a dirt track riddled with potholes, making their vehicle jolt and jar with every dip.

Thankfully, Ursula had a steady hand at the wheel. Despite the bone-rattling ride, they eventually reached the village outskirts. Yet, the journey wasn’t over. They still had to navigate the final stretch to get to the heart of the village

The village secretary was already waiting for them, along with a crowd of curious onlookers The children and seniors stared at the two women with a mix of astonishment and bewilderment, as they couldn’t fathom why such charming ladies would come to their backwater to teach

The secretary guided Jocelyn and Ursula to the community center and gave them a rundown of the local situation

The village’s population barely topped fifty-six souls, half of whom were elders, with a handful of kids and a smattering of women in their forties and fifties-mostly empty nesters and housewives left behind when the able-bodied men headed out to seek work elsewhere

“We used to have a little schoolhouse here, the secretary explained, “but it fell into ruin as folks moved away. The ones who could afford it sent their kids to the town school, a good two-hour walk. Everyone who could leave did, and those who stayed…well, they were the ones who couldn’t afford any better. We’ve had volunteers before, but they’ve all moved on. Now, the few kids left range from toddlers playing in the mud, to fifteen, who dropped out early to help at home”RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

“I took it upon myself to teach the kids of age.” he continued, the weariness evident in his voice. “I couldn’t let them grow up without hope Right now, I’m teaching nine of them, all about eight years old. The secretary truly wanted to make a difference, but his reach was limited since resources were so scarce

“You see the conditions we’re living in. the secretary said, looking at the two young teachers who came to help voluntarily. “I thought I’d show you around the village for a couple of days. If it’s too rough for you, think of it as a little adventure before heading back.”

He didn’t want to build up the children’s hopes only to dash them again.

Jocelyn and Ursula agreed, but their intent wasn’t to inspect the environment to decide whether to stay or go. They wanted to get to know the villagers and understand their lives better.

“We brought some supplies, they said, “some food for the villagers. We’d appreciate your help distributing it”

The back of the SUV was filled with milk cartons, backpacks and books, with more supplies on the way via delivery

After sharing a modest meal at the secretary’s home, Jocelyn and Ursula were taken on a tour of the village. The cobblestone pathways were laid by the villagers for easier travel, and the clustered houses, many with moss-covered yards and closed doors, spoke of long absences.

They distributed milk, oil, and rice to childless homes and backpacks and books to those with children. By the end of their rounds, dusk was setting in.

The secretary settled them into a tidy house recently vacated by a family who’d left to work elsewhere. It was a clean and cozy space, surrounded by neighbors who could provide a sense of community

Once the secretary left, Jocelyn and Ursula sat in silence. The day’s experiences weighed heavily on them. They exchanged glances. eyes filled with a mix of helplessness and resolve Their hearts had ached earlier that day when a little girl had looked up at them and. shyly asked, “Unah said you’re here to teach us. Is that true? You won’t leave us, right?”

Unah was the village secretary.

That night, sleep came slowly for Jocelyn and Ursula as the trivial wornes of romance and affection seemed so distant in comparison. Jocelyn regretted the time wasted with Melvin when she could have been doing something more meaningful like this.

They didn’t leave. They stayed true to their words.

They converted an abandoned house into a makeshift classroom, just needing one spacious room with enough desks for the children. At first, the kids were nervous and restrained. But they were eager leamers.

Jocelyn employed a laid-back teaching style, and by the end of each lesson, the children were laughing and playing around her. Their affection was pure and simple. One day, a shy boy approached Jocelyn with a gift wrapped in a plastic bag, something like potato For you, Jocelyn,” he said

the accepted it, feeling the warmth in her hands. “Is this baked?”

my grandma made it for you in the stove. It’s really sweet

celyn med gratefuly “Thank you”

campered away with flushed cheeks.

Sitting on the front steps, Jocelyn unwrapped the gift–a roasted sweet potato-and took a picture for Twitter with the caption, “Nothing warms the heart quite like this.”

Biting into the sweet potato, she savored the taste that was as sweet as the act of kindness itself.

A few days later, the secretary excitedly shared news that outsiders were considering building a road to the village and exploring agricultural opportunities to help lift the community out of poverty

“That’s great! Ursula beamed.

The secretary tempered his excitement with caution, citing past disappointments. But Jocelyn was optimistic, Someone will come through for us

Ursula agreed. I’m sure we’ll see progress and people will return home to their families”

The secretary’s eyes sparkled with hope at their words.

Soon after he left to meet the potential benefactors at the village entrance.

While the villagers buzzed with anticipation, Jocelyn and Ursula stayed behind, teaching the children a music lesson in the courtyard.

The village was cradled by mountains on all sides. When you sang, the sound seemed to wrap around you like a rich tapestry of surround sound, both resonant and ethereal.

Jocelyn had a great voice, and she taught the kids a song called “Youthful Dreams of the West

The children sang with such fervor, their voices carrying the grand melody and the majestic simplicity of the lyrics. Their song rose through the mountains, their youthful tones striking with a resounding strength and a tenacity that belied their age. In their voices was the undeniable spirit of defiance

Jocelyn couldn’t help but sniffle as she listened to their singing.

They were young, but weren’t their hearts filled with dreams just the same?

Ursula, moved by their passion, quietly wiped away the tears on her face.

Jocelyn knew Ursula shared her sentiment. These children might once be ignorant, yet they too harbored dreams and aspirations

Unable to resist. Jocelyn joined in the chorus. Her voice mingled with theirs, echoing through the woods, infusing this once somber village with boundless hope.

Not far away, a man stood tall beneath a sturdy oak. His deep-set eyes, reminiscent of twilight skies, fixed on the slender woman whose voice exuded a powerful force. He swallowed hard, feeling something fill the void of his heart that had been empty for far too long.