Jaylor Oneshots

Christmases When You Were Mine

A/N: Merry Christmas y'all 🎄

In celebration, here's a Christmas-themed part.

Disclaimer: I got inspiration for this from another fic on wattpad but I can't remember which one it is and I can't find it so if you find this familiar, it's most probably because you've read that fic. And I was too lazy to think of two more names so I just used name suggestions for last chapter.

Hope you like it!

•••

Taylor's POV

"Mommy, it's Christmas! Wake up!" I am awoken by cheerful and excited yelling and the weight of my two daughters jumping up and down on my bed.

"Okay, okay, I'm up!" Laughing, I untangle myself from my blanket. "It's not like I can get anymore sleep anyway with you two around," I say, ruffling their tangled blonde hair. They definitely get their excitement for Christmas from me. Now I get why my parents always get annoyed with me every Christmas when I was younger.

"Let's go see what Santa got you guys, okay?" As soon as those words left my mouth, Anne and Myrtle throw their arms in the air and shout, "Yay!"

Anne immediately grabs my hand and drags me out of the room. Luckily, she has enough sense to let go of my hand before running down the stairs with her sister towards the living room where the Christmas tree is.

"Woah!" Anne and Myrtle exclaim, gazing gleefully at the presents at the bottom of the tree. However, contrary to their reactions, the first thing I am drawn to is the empty space below the tree.

Where his presents are supposed to be.

Suppressing the slight burn behind my eyes, I shake the thought away. Christmas is supposed to be spent in happiness, not with dwelling in your own self-pity.

"Let's open our presents now!" I sit down cross-legged next to Anne and Myrtle, who are already beginning to tear open their first presents.

Soon enough, the living room is filled with torn wrapping paper and new Christmas presents. "Do you wanna eat breakfast now?" I ask the two girls, who are currently admiring the new toys and clothes they got.

"Wait, we still have another present for you, mommy," Myrtle suddenly remembers, a look of realisation adorning her adorable features. She and Anne jump up and runs upstairs to their room as quickly as their little legs can carry them.

When they return, Anne is holding a piece of paper in her hands, grinning widely. "Merry Christmas, mommy!" they chorus in unison, Anne thrusting the paper towards me. On the top of the paper is the words "Merry Christmas, we love you!" written in red and green in neat handwriting (well, as neat as a 6- and 3-year old can manage anyway). Below the words is a drawing of them smiling, standing next to a Christmas tree, holding hands with me and...

Joe.

Oh.

Trying my best not to break down in front of my kids, I give them a tight smile and wrap my arms tightly around them, "Thank you. This is the best Christmas gift ever."

When I release them from my bear-hug, I notice that Myrtle looks like she's about to say something, but is contemplating whether to say it or not.

After a few seconds, she asks, "Mommy?"

"Yes, Myrtle?"

"When is daddy coming home?"

Tears well up in my eyes and I desperately try to keep them from spilling over my eyelashes. Anne looks over at me with conflict and sadness flashing in her eyes, at a loss for words. Anne, being slightly older, understands why her daddy hasn't been home for 6 months, but Myrtle still hasn't quite grasped the concept of it yet.

After a while, Myrtle breaks the silence, "Mommy?" She has pure confusion written all over her face, her innocence and oblivion evident.

Attempting to be strong in front of my girls, I reply, "Never. He's never coming back." My voice betrays me as it wavers and breaks in the middle of my answer.

She seems to ponder the idea for a bit of time, "Never?" I nod, unable to choke out any more words.

Almost instantly, she bursts into tears. Glancing over at Anne, I notice that she has tears streaming down her face at a rapid pace and is sniffing. Instinctively, I pull both of them into my lap, rocking them back and forth as an attempt to calm both the young girls and myself down.

After both of them have stopped crying, I wipe my own tears away with the back of my hand and say, "Come on, let's spend Christmas in happiness, not sadness. Let's go eat breakfast now, okay?"

～～～

The rest of the day is spent cuddling on the sofa while watching Christmas movies and belting out the words to Christmas carols. Quite surprisingly, I was distracted from thinking about Joe until Anne and Myrtle have gone to bed.

As I tidy up the living room, my eyes are drawn to the bright Christmas tree. Letting my mind wander, I recall the day I received the news that Joe died in a car crash. I remember every single detail of it: my last words to him, getting interrupted from playing Barbies with my daughters, the phone call that told me that Joe had gotten hit by a drunk driver on his way to the Chinese take-out place and died, the state of denial I was in after the phone call ended, yelling at Anne and Myrtle for bugging me about wanting to continue playing when I just wanted to be alone, bolting to my room—everything.

By this point, tears are running freely down my cheeks, and I let myself break down, knowing that the girls are fast asleep upstairs. Abandoning the task at hand, I sit in front of the Christmas tree and just simply admire it for a second before I say:

"Hey, Joe. It's been a while since I last did this. Merry Christmas. Today Myrtle asked me about you again, about when you're gonna come home. So I told her. It's better to let her know now than let her live in confusion until she's old enough to understand the concept of death. Overall it's been okay, I guess. I don't want to spontaneously burst into tears at any one point in time as often now, but there are still moments where I wish that you're still here with me, that you can watch our daughters grow. You have no idea how hard it is to know that you'll never walk through that front door again and that I'll never be able to wake up next to you ever again, but you're in a better place now and I hope you're happy because you deserve that.

"I remember being wrapped up in your arms and feeling so warm and safe and...it just always took me back to the Christmas tree farm where I grew up. And whenever I was alone, I would imagine you being right beside me in the house right next to that little farm, in front of the fireplace. You have no idea how much I would give just to be able to feel like that again, but there's no way of turning back time, no matter how much I want there to be one. But there's no use spending the rest of my life hung up on that. I don't know if I'll ever fully move on from you, but what I do know is that I will hold onto the precious memories with you."

I pause slightly, before adding:

"I love you. Merry Christmas, baby."

•••

A/N: first of all, I'm sorry, please don't kill me

For some reason my mind felt like it would be a GrEaT idea to write about death on Christmas...yeah my mind is weird

So...I got a Scrabble game from my parents for Christmas. I mean, to be fair, my sister and I did ask for it, so I'm not complaining.

I originally finished writing this chapter like a month back but then Christmas Tree Farm came out and so I obviously had to reference it.

Yeah um...that's all.

Edit: I forgot to say THANK YOU FOR 4K READS AND MORE THAN 60 VOTES AND #2 IN JOEALWYN okay I'm done

Please vote and comment!

-xyz 🎄