𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 | 𝐝.𝐦

𝟏𝟑

Kaimana Valencia | December 1995

The only drawback of going back to Kaimana's cottage house for holidays was that one memory—actually, it wasn't even considered a memory.

More like...protection yet again. Though this protection stunt came first.

But the only drawback of going back home was the fact that on Christmas day, thirteen years ago, Kaimana did something she could never take back.

The damage was permanent.

And she didn't regret it.

The only thing she disliked about it was the fact that now that she had Zaiyah, and this would be her first Christmas with Kaimana and Kaimana's father, the thing she did thirteen years ago would entwine itself with the first holiday Zaiyah would ever have.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Why didn't Kaimana pick a different day? Why did it have to be December twenty-fifth? It couldn't have been the twenty-third? Or the twenty-sixth?

Oh, well, just as long as Kaimana and her father didn't mention it—like they hadn't for the past thirteen years—everything would be just fine.

On Christmas morning, Kaimana woke up due to the babbles coming from the crib to her left. Kaimana had her own bedroom in the cottage home with a double bed too.

The four walls were a pastel blue and when she had gotten home, she noticed her father had painted big fluffy clouds on the blue walls to add some pizazz.

Unlike her dorm at Hogwarts, her bedframe and furniture in her room at home was all white. White dresser, white night table, white bed frame, white closet, white crib. Her floor was a carpet, like most of the floor in her cottage home.

Her cottage home was cozy and warm and home-y. Just the way she liked it.

"Merry Christmas, my love," Kaimana crooned, and scooped her baby up to give her the usual morning smooches.

Zaiyah was jaunty and giggly this morning with her baby-toothed smile. And somehow, Kaimana sensed that she knew it was her first Christmas and her first holiday. So she was excited about it.

Zaiyah tried to say something; the words mama and yes making their way into her sentence.

Kaimana nodded, and said, "Yes, it is your first Christmas with Mama and Lolo, isn't it?" She kissed her baby's head again, breathing in her natural lovely scent of baby, before going to dress her and herself for the beautiful day.

Once Kaimana finished, she picked Zaiyah up from her crib and held her on her hip. She stared out the window in her bedroom. She had a view of the frozen pond behind their cottage house.

Her cottage house was located in a forest, far, far away from everyone else. And it was still snowing. Snowflakes sprinkled down from the blue sky, and Kaimana could just smell Christmas.

That scent of Christmas. You'd have to smell it to know it.

Kaimana felt Zaiyah's chubby baby hand gently press to her cheek, and she smiled wider. She leaned into her baby's touch, placing her hand over her small one.

"I love you, my baby." Kaimana turned her head to press her lips to Zaiyah's palm. "I love you endlessly."

Zaiyah responded by leaning in and pressing her wet lips to her mum's nose.

Kaiman found that ever since Zaiyah was able to control her own movements, she did that kiss on the nose gesture every time Kaiman told her that she loved her.

Kaimana saw it as an I love you in Zaiyah's language.

"Merry Christmas, love." Stephen, Kaimana's father, kissed her head when she walked into the kitchen before kissing Zaiyah's cheek. "Merry Christmas, my favourite granddaughter."

"Your only granddaughter," Kaimana clarified with a cheeky smile, putting Zaiyah in her high-chair at the table. "Merry Christmas, Dad."

The smell of sweets and warmth clogged every sense Kaimana had, causing her to smile to stay on sincerely.

Her father had decorated the house before she got home. The kitchen table had a Christmas cloth over it and the Christmas tree was lit and blanketed in ribbon and ornaments and lights. The stairs out on the porch had lights and decorated garland, along with the stairs inside.

The front door had a wreath, and Kaimana's stocking was by the fireplace. Her father had also made one for Zaiyah, and it was hung by the fireplace, next to her mum's.

It smelled and felt like Christmas.

Stephen chuckled and walked from the stove with a pan full of scrambled eggs. "Kai, sweets, get the plates and utensils." He scraped the eggs into a serving dish at the table.

The table had muffins and sugar cookies on a holiday dish. There were slices of fried spam and eggs in another, a bowl of white rice and cut calamansi, and hot chocolate in their traditional holiday mugs.

This was probably Kaimana's favourite meal.

Kaimana buckled Zaiyah in before grabbing said items. She set places for two and grabbed the plastic baby plate for Zaiyah. The small family gathered at the table and ate breakfast.

Kaimana scooped some rice onto Zaiyah's plate, where it rested on the built-in table from her high-chair, sprinkling just a bit of calamansi over it.

Kaimana and her father talked about her studies, his work, his health, Zaiyah, pretty much everything. They caught up.

Stephen seemed genuinely happy now. He wasn't wearing a mask in front of his daughter, trying to make it look like he was okay. He seemed sincerely happy with life.

And not once did they mention what happened in this house, thirteen years ago.

This was going to be a good Christmas.