They Regretted Locking Me Out on Christmas

When I saw the characters on the screen, I put my phone away and responded with just one word:

[Okay.]

Before I could even turn around, the villa door was suddenly flung open.

Yara rushed out like a gust of wind, tiptoeing as she peered into the trash can.

Inside was the limited-edition Elsa doll she had been talking about for half a year — the one I had searched all over the city to buy for her.

“Why did you throw away my present? That’s mine!”

Her face flushed bright red with anger, but when she saw the stains on the edge of the bin, she hesitated and did not dare to reach in.

Instead, she stomped her little shoes and burst into tears.

“You’re so stingy! Bad daddy!

“Uncle Jones gave me a Burberry dress the moment he arrived. What about you? You didn’t even open the door, and now you’re throwing away my gift. You did it on purpose!”

The dress she was wearing had sloppy stitching. It was clearly a knockoff.

However, I did not expose it. I just watched her quietly as she raged.

“Yara, is that any way to talk to your father?”

Carson stepped forward with a gentle smile.

“Melvin, don’t blame the child. I’m actually allergic to sweat, so Yara was just worried I’d feel uncomfortable.”

Lily came out right after him, frowning at me.

“Alright, Melvin. It’s Christmas. You bought an outdated toy, so don’t blame the child for not liking it.

“Yara just prefers trendy things. What’s wrong with that?”

If this had been before, I would have slammed the receipt on the table and told them how difficult it was to get that doll.

I would have exposed the fake dress.

I would have argued. I would have been furious.

However, I would not do that now.

“Uncle Jones, don’t mind him. He’s doing it on purpose. He just can’t stand seeing us happy!

“I wish I could change dads. Uncle Jones, you should be my dad instead!”

She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

That face which was so similar to mine, at least seventy percent in likeness, looked up at me with open defiance.

I still could not understand how the child I had raised with my own hands could harbor such hostility toward me.

However, I no longer wanted to understand.

If they wanted to be a family, then so be it.

I still had things in the house to pack, and my phone was almost out of battery.

I walked past Yara as she clung to Carson and stepped inside.

As we passed each other, the scent of cologne on Carson drifted into my nose.

It was the same brand Lily had bought just a few days earlier.

Back then, she said it was a gift for a client.

So that “client” was right here.

Nevermind. It did not matter anymore.

…

The next morning, I woke up early and made myself a bowl of noodles in the kitchen.

I had just put the noodles in the pot when Yara came out after washing up.

She wrinkled her nose and said in a muffled voice:

“Uncle Jones is taking me to English high tea to make up for Christmas!

“Don’t think that just because you made me breakfast, I’ll forgive you for throwing away my present.

“You’re the only one who likes such greasy stuff!”

I added an egg and did not even look at her.

“I wasn’t planning on making it for you anyway.”

Her expression froze for a split second. Then she grabbed Lily’s hand and said angrily,

“Mommy, I want Uncle Jones to be my dad for my English speech contest today!”