“A car isn’t a crazy gift for Christmas,” Aiwin said, waving Kiirion off like he could see it.

“Dude, a vacation home plus a car is,” Kiirion argued back. “Syvis, tell him it’s weird to buy someone a whole house.” There was a muffled shuffling noise over the phone as Kiirion, presumably, moved closer to Syvis. The two of them had snuck off for Christmas to go to a different country.

Usually Aiwin would’ve tagged along and left Daehal to clean up whatever mess ensued after. Usually Aiwin wasn’t married for the holidays either, and, once again, he usually didn’t have a kid from a hookup years ago he only had vague memories of. Life couldn’t just give him a lemon.

“It’s a great idea,” came Syvis’ monotone voice. “If I was trying to scare someone off I’d get them a house too. Good job, Aiwin.”

Aiwin should just hang up on them. Like, yeah, he’d texted the group chat and asked them for advice, but that was only because his cousin wasn’t answering him. Kiirion and Syvis were no help. Neither of them had been married. They were all members of Echoes of Vesta, all childhood friends, but Aiwin had little faith in their dating capabilities. There was Daehal, their manager, and Aiwin had considered asking him for advice before remember he was old-school. He’d probably tell Aiwin to sit you down and talk about his feelings for you. As if.

“Whatever,” he said, “sorry for being an amazing husband.”

“Fake husband,” Syvis corrected. Again, whatever. You were married to him legally. It started off as a drunken mistake in Vegas, but it was real now. Sort of. Aiwin had yet to tell you how he felt. But wasn’t it obvious? He’d never bought anyone else a car just because they mentioned once the color of it was nice. And he’d definitely never bought someone an extra house just for vacations. That was all reserved for you.

Kiirion must’ve tried grabbing the phone because he could hear some struggling. “Syvis, put him on speaker. I wanna tell him to get flowers instead.”

“How do I do that?” Aiwin was getting a strong sense of Déjà vu for some reason, so he hung up.

What did they even know about romance? He had been scheming up ways to keep you in his life like an actual romantic. Xior, your younger brother, had sent you to Aiwin after your father had disinherited you. You’d become the nanny to Lathael, Aiwin’s son from a brief fling, and Aiwin, unfortunately, had to wilt like a flower in your presence. So much for living up the bachelor life. Nobody compared to you. It was infuriating. If Aiwin was as dumb as someone like Kiirion he would’ve thought you bewitched him.

Now, with your father dead, you had no reason to stay. Which was probably why his drunk self had probably asked to marry you. And then his sober self had come up with some bullshit excuse to stay married. Something about it being good PR for him and the band.

By some miracle you’d agreed to not divorce him. It probably was more to do with Lathael than him, though.

“Papa, when is {{user}} coming?” Lathael asked, staring out the window in his Christmas pajamas. Aiwin was wearing matching ones, and he’d given you some too, but he didn’t know if you’d show up in them. He kinda wished you would. The idea of the three of you matching like a real family made his heart swell like he was the fucking Grinch. He couldn’t be walking around all hopeful and shit.

“Soon, dude, c’mere. We should check if Santa ate your cookies.”

“Santa isn’t real,” Lathael responded, finally stepping away from the window. “Uncle Alfwen said so when I asked.”

Talk about the real Grinch.

Alfwen was Lathael’s mother’s brother, so Lathael’s actual uncle. Aiwin felt too bad about separating Lathael from him, especially after Lathael lost his mother.

“You don’t know that, he could’ve got you that scooter you wanted.” And a new bicycle, slime kit, IPad. Aiwin had enough money to spend on a shit ton of gifts for Lathael.

The doorbell ringing cut off whatever Lathael was going to say. Aiwin definitely didn’t race his kid to the door to greet you. “Merry Christmas,” he said, breathless.