A Christmas back home

Before we grow up

The door creaked open and I peeked inside. The distance between the train station and the house was not alot but it drained me beyond comprehension. The house smelled like cinnamon and pine, the familiar scent of Christmas wrapping me in warmth the moment I stepped through the front door, confusion crossed my mind. Twinkling lights framed the windows, and soft holiday music played in the background. It got me surprised but soon my aunt came into view fussing in the kitchen. "I am home",

My aunt welcomed me and guided me towards the dining table where she had prepared my favorite hot chocolate and cookies. "So, how was the trip?" she asked, "It was tiring, aunty, but the minute I stepped foot in the town, it felt okay, I guess." And yet, as I set my bag down by the old wooden bench, a memory tugged at me, pulling me back to a time when things were simpler, when love was unspoken but was always felt.

Before we grew up, me, Ash and him, there were moments when we snuck out, skipped our homework and played in the front yard. You were usually with the boys while I waited peacefully reading my romance novels, waiting for the girls or just watching you without realizing what I was doing, but, I remember one afternoon, we slipped while the adults slept and ran barefoot through the fields behind the old barn. I felt freedom, I wanted to run and never stop, but with you... I wasn't sure. My sundress was stained with grass, and my hair whipped in the wind as I tried to keep up with your long strides. "Come on!" you called over your shoulder, a rare grin lighting up your face. "You’re too slow!"

"Slow? You wish!" I shouted back, determination fueling my legs. Ash laughed, effortlessly keeping pace with him. He turned back toward me, his golden-brown hair glinting in the sunlight. "He’s just trying to show off, you know," he teased, rolling his eyes dramatically. "I know," I replied.

We reached the top of the hill, breathless and laughing, just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. The sky was ablaze with streaks of orange and pink, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. Then, out of nowhere, you tossed a handful of wildflowers at me. "There," you said with mock seriousness. "Now you match the sunset."

I burst out laughing, holding the flowers close to my chest. "You’re ridiculous," I said, but my heart swelled at the small gesture. It wasn’t a grand romantic thing, but it was just enough to make my day.

I tried to keep them on the corner shelf between the books, somewhere hidden, just for myself. No one else could touch them. They were my secret little piece of happiness. But one day, I went into the room and noticed that the area was sparkling clean. My flowers were gone.

“Hey! What happened to the flowers?” I called out, my voice a little sharper than I intended.

Mum came into the room, looking slightly puzzled. “What flowers?”

I held my breath, glancing at the empty shelf. "The ones I left right here. Where did they go?"

She smiled, a little sheepish. “Oh, I thought they were just some old thing. I cleaned up. Did you need them?”

I tried to keep my frustration in check, but I could feel it building up inside me. “We collected it for my project, Mum. You can’t just move things without asking.”

She raised an eyebrow at 'we,' but didn’t say anything at first. Then, seeing the genuine distress on my face, she softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize they were so important. I thought you’d never even notice.”

I sighed. "It’s just... they were special to me. I don’t know why it feels like this big deal."

Mum reached out, giving me a small hug. “I understand now. Won’t happen again.”

That should have been the end of it, but somehow, a few days later, it wasn’t. At the house get-together, I found myself glancing at the shelf again, only to see someone had moved my flowers yet again. This time, it wasn’t Mum—it was the housemaid.

“Who touched my flowers?” I asked, frustration creeping into my voice.

The housemaid froze, her hands still holding the cleaning cloth. "I'm sorry, I didn’t know they were important to you."

I felt my face flush. “It's fine, it’s just... I don’t know why I care so much about them. But please don’t move them again.”

She nodded quickly. “Of course, I won’t.”

When the house was quiet again, I sat down in the room, staring at the shelf. It was one of those moments where everything felt too much, and I realized, with a little bit of embarrassment, that I was overreacting.

Then, out of nowhere, you appeared at the door, leaning against the frame with that lovely dark hair of yours. “You okay honey?”

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, I guess. Mum, It’s silly, huh?”

“Yeah, but you care. Doesn’t make it silly.”

I raised an eyebrow. "You don’t get it, do you?"

“Nope,” you shrugged. "But, hey, they’re your flowers. You want me to get you more?"

I smiled, warmth spreading through me. "You don’t have to do that. But, uh, maybe just... don’t mess with my flowers next time."

You gave me that lovely grin. “Deal.”

And even though you never said much, even though you didn’t always get it, I knew somehow you understood. In your own loving way, your eyes always sparkled when you saw Theo. Maybe it was your wish that came true. Life happened and we all grew.