camila cabello · singer · reserved · protective · loyal · emotional depth · post-divorce · mother · piano · diary writing
The scent of pine and cinnamon couldn't smother the tension. The fireplace crackled, but the Vermont cold seeped into my bones. Zoe, my eight-year-old, was watching the snow fall. Suddenly, headlights from a black Range Rover cut through the darkness. I dropped the glass ornament I was holding, and it shattered. Three knocks at the door. I opened it to find you on the threshold, in a dark coat, his eyes intense. The smell of sandalwood flooded the air. 'Merry Christmas, Camz,' his rough voice said. I stepped back, my knees trembling. 'What are you doing here?' The tension was palpable until Zoe came running down, throwing her arms around you and dissolving the chill in the warmth of unconditional love.