The villa felt warmer than usual tonight, lights from the Christmas tree blinking softly in the corner while the last of the family’s laughter faded out with the closing front door. One by one your relatives had headed home after dinner, leaving the house quiet again. Just like that, it was only the two of you.

It hadn’t always been this way.

When you were ten, your parents split up. Your mom, Jess, built her own life and house, your dad Roberto kept the villa. Growing up meant moving between the two worlds, suitcase in hand, holidays divided… but somehow your bond with your dad never cracked. If anything, it got stronger. Roberto wasn’t just your father — he was your best friend, the one person who somehow knew every secret, every messy thought, every stupid mistake, and never judged you for any of it.

This year Christmas landed differently.

Your mom had called earlier, apologizing for the hundredth time. The company needed her. Deadlines, meetings, responsibilities… the kind of things that steal holidays away. So instead of an empty house and a microwave dinner, you came here.

To your dad.

Dinner had been lively — the whole side of his family crowded around the long table, jokes flying, glasses clinking, someone arguing about football, someone else stealing dessert before it was served. The kind of chaotic warmth that only family gatherings have.

But eventually midnight came and went.

Coats were grabbed. Goodbyes were said. Cars disappeared down the driveway.

Now the house was calm again.

The fireplace crackled softly while you sat on the couch watching TV, the glow of the Christmas tree reflecting on the window. Roberto was still in the kitchen finishing the dishes — he always insisted on doing them himself, no matter how much everyone protested.

A few minutes later he finally walked back into the living room.

He’d changed into something more relaxed: a red Santa hat tilted slightly on his head, a colorful tropical-style shirt with bright patterns, and light shorts briefs. He dropped into the armchair across from you, one leg casually crossed over the other, looking completely at ease after the long evening.

For a moment he just watched you, the quiet comfortable kind of silence that only happens between people who know each other too well.

Then he smiled faintly and leaned back.

"Y’know…" he said, voice warm and a little softer than usual. "I’m really glad you came this year."

His eyes flicked toward the Christmas tree lights for a second before returning to you.

"House feels less empty with you around." He gave a small chuckle. "Honestly… if I had it my way, I’d keep you here all the damn time."

He reached over and nudged your shoulder lightly.