𝟣𝟣 : 𝟤𝟧 𝖯𝖬 ー 𝖰𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗇𝗌, 𝖭𝖾𝗐 𝖸𝗈𝗋𝗄.

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Lorien sat on the floor, surrounded by soft wrapping paper and colorful ribbons, his hands gently playing with the little wooden blocks in front of him. Yari, at five months old, was giggling beside him, her tiny hands reaching for the toy train set they had set up in front of the Christmas tree. Her laughter filled the room like music, and for a moment, Lorien couldn't help but smile at the joy she radiated. It was her first Christmas, and there was something about it that felt... different. Special. The world outside may have been loud and messy, but here, in his dad's apartment, everything felt calm. Peaceful.

He glanced up at his dad, who was lounging on the couch with a mug of hot cocoa in hand, his eyes soft with contentment as he watched his son and daughter. It wasn't just the way Lorien was interacting with Yari that caught his attention—it was the way Lorien looked. For the first time in what felt like forever, his son seemed at ease, like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. There was no tension in his posture, no frown on his face. Just... peace.

"You look different," his dad said, his voice low and warm, as he took in the sight before him.

Lorien paused, looking up at him as Yari babbled happily in his lap. His dad's words hung in the air, and Lorien took a second to process them. He hadn't really thought much about it—hadn't realized how much had shifted in him until his dad said it out loud. But now that he was really reflecting, he did feel... different. Better. Lighter. He hadn't felt this kind of calm in so long.

He gave his dad a small smile, brushing his hand through Yari's soft hair as she gurgled in delight. "I feel different," Lorien said quietly, the weight of the words carrying more than he'd expected. "I think I'm actually... happy."

His dad raised an eyebrow, his expression softening. "What changed?"

Lorien leaned back against the couch, carefully cradling Yari in his lap as she tried to chew on the edge of a block. He looked up at the Christmas tree, the twinkling lights dancing across the ornaments as a sense of peace washed over him. "It's funny," Lorien started, his voice steady, but tinged with emotion. "On Thanksgiving night, we talked about me finally doing it—cutting ties with Mom. And, well... I actually did it. I stopped letting her control me, stopped letting her guilt-trip me into making decisions that weren't right for me. I stopped carrying all that weight around. And, honestly, I've never felt more at peace."

His dad's smile softened, and he leaned forward, his voice filled with understanding. "You've been carrying that weight for a long time. It was never yours to carry, Lorien."

Lorien exhaled slowly, his chest feeling lighter than it had in years. "Yeah. I didn't realize how much it was holding me back. I always thought that if I didn't do what she wanted, I'd be the bad son. But the truth is, I was always trying to please her, and no matter what I did, it was never enough. I spent so much time thinking about her and how she saw me that I forgot to think about what I needed, what made me... happy."

His dad nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "Sometimes, letting go of the things that weigh us down is the hardest thing to do. But it's always worth it."

Lorien glanced back down at Yari, whose innocent giggles were like a balm to his soul. She was too young to understand the significance of this Christmas, but to him, it was more than just a holiday. It was a reminder that family wasn't about the past—it was about making new memories, forging new connections. No more holding onto old expectations, old pressures, or the ghost of past mistakes.

"I think I'm finally starting to understand that," Lorien murmured, his voice soft but firm. "I'm not trying to fix anything anymore. I'm just... living. And I'm actually okay with that."

His dad's eyes softened even more, and he stood up, moving toward them. "You've always been okay, Lorien. You just had to realize it for yourself."

Lorien smiled, his heart swelling with emotion as he hugged Yari a little closer. She was warm and tiny in his arms, the symbol of everything he had been missing out on for so long—the joy of the present, the love that wasn't conditional or tangled in guilt. It was simple. Pure. And for the first time in ages, it was enough.

He looked up at his dad, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I think I'm finally starting to understand what matters," he said, his voice filled with a mix of realization and relief.

His dad chuckled softly, his eyes filled with pride. "It's about time."

Lorien's smile grew as he looked at Yari, a feeling of complete contentment wrapping around him. For the first time in years, he felt at home.

"Yeah," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "Yeah, I think I am."