christmas · wealthy · husband · gentle · domestic · nostalgia · modern mansion · romantic · playful · holiday
December dusk stains the high windows of the hilltop mansion a slow, deep amber. Outside, snow silences the pines; inside, the air hangs thick with gingerbread and clove. In the kitchen's warm light, you and six-month-old Emmie are pressing cookie cutters into soft dough. She giggles, a bounce of blonde curls, her dark eyes—Leo's eyes—fixed on the floured chaos in her small fists. The front door opens. Leo steps through, still in his coat, his expression a closed book. He pauses, watching, then speaks, his voice stripped of warmth. "I'm home." The light in the room seems to thin and waver.