Chapter 11: Traditions
December arrived with a flurry of activity. It was their first Christmas in the upstate house, and Julian was determined to make it perfect for Lily. The memories of holidays past in the old estate were tainted by Victoria’s obsession with aesthetics over joy—sterile white trees, un-touchable glass ornaments, and a strict ban on anything homemade.
Julian swung the heavy wooden front doors open, carrying a massive, incredibly bushy Douglas fir over his shoulder.
"Incoming!" he yelled, laughing as Barnaby barked furiously at the giant, pine-scented intruder.
Clara and Lily were waiting in the living room, armed with boxes of colorful, mismatched ornaments they had purchased from the local craft fair. Lily was practically vibrating with excitement, wearing a reindeer sweater that was slightly too big for her.
"It's huge, Daddy!" Lily cheered as Julian hoisted the tree into its stand by the large bay window.
"Only the best for us, bug," Julian grunted, tightening the screws at the base. He stepped back, wiping pine needles from his sweater. "Alright, ladies. Decorate away."
For the next two hours, the house was filled with the sounds of Bing Crosby, crackling firewood, and genuine, uninhibited laughter. Clara hoisted Lily up so she could place a slightly crooked, handmade angel at the very top of the tree.
As Lily ran into the kitchen to grab a plate of cookies for them to share, Julian stepped up beside Clara, admiring their handiwork. The tree was a chaotic, beautiful mess of colors and lights.
"It's perfect," Clara murmured, leaning her head lightly against Julian's shoulder.
Julian wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side. Over the past few weeks, their relationship had blossomed naturally, woven into the quiet, domestic moments of their everyday lives.
"Look up," Julian said softly.
Clara tilted her head back. Hanging from the sturdy wooden beam directly above them was a small sprig of mistletoe, tied with a red velvet ribbon.
She laughed, a bright, clear sound. "You planned this."
"Guilty," Julian murmured, a slow smile spreading across his face. He turned to her, his hand moving to the small of her back. "Is this okay?"
"It's more than okay," Clara breathed.
She closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was warm, deep, and tasting of pine and hot cider. It was the absolute opposite of the coldness they had both endured, a mutual surrender to the warmth they had found in each other.
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"Ew! Kissing!"
They broke apart, laughing, to find Lily standing in the doorway, a plate of gingerbread cookies in her hands and a deeply theatrical look of disgust on her face. But underneath the fake grimace, her eyes were shining with undeniable happiness.
