Chapter 563
Chapter 563:
Curious, she rose from the steps and left the courtyard, heading toward the glow. The sparklers seemed close, but as she walked, they remained just out of reach, leading her onward step by step.
She followed the path past the Morgan family’s villa and up a gentle slope. The sparklers grew brighter, their light scattering through the darkness. Some burned out, but new ones ignited, one after another, like a trail of stars guiding her way.
Turning a corner past a low wall, Fernanda’s view suddenly opened up. It wasn’t a group of people playing with sparklers, as she had imagined. Instead, dozens of sparklers were planted in the soft ground, their tiny flames illuminating the area like fallen stars.
At the center crouched someone lighting each sparkler in turn. His coat hem swayed gently with his movements, and when he stood, his posture was straight and elegant, as if he belonged to the night itself.
Fernanda took a hesitant step forward and softly called, “Cristian.”
He turned at the sound of her voice, his face breaking into a warm smile. “Hey.”
His tone was calm, almost expectant, as if he had known she would find him. He beckoned her closer with a simple gesture. “Come here.”
Fernanda walked toward him, sparklers dimming and flickering out beside her, leaving a trail of scattered sparks on the ground. She felt as though she stood in a sea of stars, caught in a moment both magical and surreal.
When she reached him, Cristian turned fully to face her. The bright light highlighted his features, making his already striking face appear even more breathtaking. His dark eyes gleamed, reflecting the light as if filled with starlight.
“Fernanda,” he said softly, a smile tugging at his lips as he handed her a small box. “Merry Christmas.”
Fernanda accepted the box, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened it. A familiar scent drifted out and wrapped around her like a wave of nostalgia.
Inside, she saw them—Christmas cookies. Her vision blurred as tears welled up in her eyes.
Keep reading gⱯlnσνℯ𝓁s․com
Only those who truly cared for her—those who knew her best—would think to give her Christmas cookies.
It was the taste of her childhood.
Fernanda let out a quiet sob, her face streaked with tears.
The warm aroma of Christmas cookies filled the air, reminding her of the times when Hiram would rush home, always eager to hand her two fresh cookies with a smile, saying, “Enjoy them while they’re warm; that’s when they taste the best.”
Fernanda reached for one from the box and took a bite, but as she chewed, tears flowed freely, and her jaw ached with the weight of her emotions. Her throat constricted, and instead of the cookie’s flavor, all she tasted was the bitterness of her sorrow.
She wiped at her tears, forcing the cookie between her lips, chewing it with more force than she intended, swallowing quickly.
.
.
.