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MidReal Story
A Christmas Kiss
Scenario:olivia mere de famille avait sept enfants elle aimer avoir des enfant elle fait la recontre de nick un jeune home elle heberge pour les vacance
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Olivia Bennett
She is a stayathome mom with seven children. She is nurturing, caring, and content. Olivia loves being a mother and enjoys hosting family and friends at her home. She creates a welcoming atmosphere, filling her home with warmth and laughter. Her children bring her joy, and she feels grateful for this large family. Olivia's life changes when she meets Nick, a charming guest, during the holidays, sparking an unexpected connection.
Benjamin
He is Olivia's husband and the father of seven children. He is hardworking, devoted, and humorous. Benjamin provides for his large family, often being the breadwinner in a traditional household. He enjoys his children and the warmth they bring to their home. Though often busy, Benjamin appreciates Olivia's ability to host guests and create such a welcoming atmosphere. His relationship with Olivia is supportive, allowing their home to become a haven for family and friends.
Hannah
She is one of Olivia's older children. She is thoughtful, empathetic, and mature beyond her years. Hannah helps care for her younger siblings while her mother hosts guests, demonstrating her responsibility and nurturing nature. She notices the change in Olivia's mood after meeting Nick and approaches the situation with understanding. Hannah's presence adds stability to the family unit, allowing Olivia and Benjamin to maintain their welcoming tradition despite the chaos of raising seven children.
I was a mom.
That was my job, and I loved it.
I had seven children.
Yes, you read that correctly.
Seven.
And I didn’t apologize for it, either.
I loved having a big family.
I wanted to have more children, but Benjamin said no.
We had discussed it, and I respected his wishes even if I didn’t agree with them.
I enjoyed hosting family gatherings and friends at my home as well.
It was something I did often, and I got compliments on how nice my house looked during the holidays, how warm and welcoming I made it feel.
My husband, Benjamin, would also tell me how great the house looked when he came home from work.
He was proud of me for keeping such a nice house, and he told me all the time how much he appreciated all my hard work.
I liked that about him.
I stood at my kitchen counter, chopping vegetables for tonight’s pot roast.
Holly and Tommy were chasing each other through the living room, and I could hear them laughing.
The phone felt heavy in my hand as I dialed the Hamiltons' number.
My heart was racing just a little bit as I waited for someone to answer.
"Hello?"
Nick’s voice sounded tired, maybe a little lonely.
"Hi, Nick. It’s Sarah."
"Oh, hi, Sarah. How are you?"
"I’m fine, thanks. How are you and your family doing?"
"We’re hanging in there. It’s been a little rough."
"I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be for you guys."
"It’s not easy. But we’re managing."
"I wanted to invite you all over for dinner tomorrow night."
"Oh, that’s very kind of you, but we don’t want to impose on you and your family."
"You’re not imposing at all. We always have room for one more at our table."
"Well, if you’re sure…"
"I am. We’ll eat around six o’clock."
"Okay. We’ll be there then. Thank you again."
"You’re welcome."
I hung up the phone and set it down on the counter.
I looked over at the dining room table and saw that it was already set with eight plates.
I walked into the dining room and moved Hannah’s plate down one spot so Nick could sit across from me.
Then I went upstairs to my bedroom to smooth out my hair and check my makeup in the mirror.
Benjamin was sitting on the bed, flipping through a magazine.
"Who was that on the phone?" he asked without looking up.
"It was Nick Hamilton," I replied, trying to sound casual.
"Who’s that?"
I could see my hands shaking a little as I moved his plate.
I didn’t want him to notice.
"Just a guy from work."
"Oh, okay."
He went back to reading his magazine.
I walked over to the table and straightened out the silverware.
Then I went back into the kitchen to finish making dinner.
As I was setting the table, I noticed that my hands were shaking a little bit.
It was a familiar feeling, one that I had experienced many times before.
But tonight, it felt different.
Tonight, it felt more deliberate.
As I placed Nick’s plate down on the table, I couldn’t help but think about how young and energetic he had looked when he first arrived at our house.
He had been so full of life, so full of energy.
And now, he was just a shell of his former self. I walked into the kitchen and began mixing some herbs together in a small bowl.
I added some chamomile for relaxation, some lavender for calmness, and a special blend that my grandmother had taught me how to make when I was younger.
It was supposed to be good for restoring youth and vitality.
I mixed everything together until it formed a fine powder, then I sprinkled it over Nick’s serving of casserole.
The powder disappeared into the food, leaving no trace behind.
I stirred the dish one last time, then I placed it in the oven to cook.
As I turned around to walk back into the dining room, I saw Benjamin standing in the doorway of the kitchen, watching me with an amused expression on his face.
"What are you doing?" he asked me.
"Just adding some extra seasoning to the casserole," I replied, trying to sound casual. "You know what? You’re right. It does smell delicious in here."
Benjamin walked over to me and kissed me on the cheek.
"I love you," he said softly into my ear.
"I love you too," I replied, smiling up at him.
Just then, we heard Nick’s car pull into our driveway outside.
I took a deep breath, ready to welcome him into our home.
Standing at the door, I smoothed out my dress and took a deep breath to steady myself.
Through the glass panels, I could see Nick’s silhouette approaching.
His gait was slower than I remembered, his movements more hesitant.
My hand hovered over the brass doorknob as the footsteps crunched along the gravel path leading up to our house.
Behind me, the dining room was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, and the aroma of herb-seasoned casserole wafted through the air.
Benjamin’s voice carried down from upstairs, where he was helping Holly with her homework.
The doorbell chimed, breaking the silence.
I counted to three, willing my racing heart to slow its frantic pace.
Then, with a deep breath, I turned the handle and opened the door.
Nick stood there, looking thinner than I remembered him.
"Sarah, it's good to see you," Nick said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"It's good to see you too, Nick," I replied, stepping aside to let him in.
As he entered, he glanced around and said, "You know, I never told you, but your home always feels like a second chance."
I led him down the dimly lit hallway, my hand hovering near his elbow without touching.
The dining room's warm glow spilled out from the doorway, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
Nick's shoulders remained tense as he followed me, his footsteps hesitant on our creaking floorboards.
At the table, I pulled out his chair - the one I'd positioned earlier - and watched as he lowered himself into it.
His eyes fixed on the steaming casserole before him, particularly the portion I'd specially prepared.
Just then, Benjamin's heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs.
I quickly moved to my seat, accidentally brushing Nick's shoulder as I passed.
Nick flinched slightly at the touch, then looked up at me with a faint smile.
"Thank you for having me, Sarah," he said, his voice laced with something I couldn't quite place.
Benjamin entered the room, his eyes briefly meeting mine before he turned to Nick and said, "It's good to have you here, Nick. We’ve missed seeing you around."
I watched as Nick picked up his fork and began to eat.
His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring every bite.
Benjamin started talking about work, but I couldn't focus on what he was saying.
My eyes kept drifting back to Nick, who continued to eat steadily.
As he finished his meal, I noticed that his eyelids were growing heavy.
His fork scraped against the plate as his hand trembled slightly.
I stood up and walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Nick, are you okay?" I asked softly.
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with confusion and fear.
"I... I don't know," he stammered.
Suddenly, he tried to stand up, but his legs buckled beneath him.
I quickly caught him before he fell, holding him upright as he struggled to regain his balance.
Benjamin rushed over to help, but I waved him away. "It's okay," I said firmly.
"He just needs some rest."
Nick's body felt lighter in my arms than it should have for an adult man.
His clothes were starting to hang loose on his frame, and his face was softening into that of a child's.
As I carried him upstairs, he looked up at me with wide eyes full of confusion and fear.
I guided him into the guest bedroom, his weight shifting unnaturally in my arms as the herbs took hold.
The transformation was happening faster than I'd anticipated.
His limbs were shortening, his features blurring into those of a child.
His clothes now hung like oversized blankets around his shrinking frame.
He whimpered softly, trying to form words but only managing childlike sounds.
I laid him down on the freshly made bed, my grandmother's quilt ready to be pulled up beside him.
His eyes locked onto mine, filled with a mix of fear and confusion.
"Mama?" he whispered, his adult voice cracking into a child's pitch.
I stroked his forehead gently, humming an old lullaby my mother used to sing to me when I was scared or hurt.
As his eyes fluttered closed, I whispered, "Welcome home, my son."
I open the dresser drawer where I keep spare children's clothes, selecting a soft blue bodysuit and a white diaper.
They're leftovers from Hannah's baby days, carefully washed and stored away for this moment.
Nick lies curled on the bed, his adult clothes now pooled around his small form.
His breathing is steady but shallow, the sound of innocence.
When I approach with the clothes in hand, his eyes flutter open briefly, then close again as he drifts deeper into sleep.
I gently remove the oversized clothing from his tiny body, lifting each limb one at a time.
His skin feels warm and fragile beneath my touch.
I slide the diaper underneath him, fastening it securely with a soft snap.
I cradle his small form against my chest, his head nestled in the crook of my neck.
His breaths are soft and steady, tickling my skin.
As I make my way downstairs, I pause at the landing, listening to the sound of my children's voices drifting up from the living room.
Benjamin must have gathered them all there to wait for me.
Nick stirs slightly in my arms, making quiet sucking sounds with his mouth.
I adjust his bodysuit and check the diaper one last time.
Taking a deep breath, I step down into view of my family.
Hannah is the first to see us, her eyes widening as she takes in the sight of the baby in my arms.
I stand in the doorway, holding Nick close as seven pairs of eyes turn toward us.
The soft yellow lamplight catches his downy hair, making him look angelic as he sleeps.
Hannah rises from her spot on the couch, taking careful steps toward us.
Benjamin remains frozen in his armchair, the newspaper forgotten in his lap.
I adjust Nick's position slightly, supporting his head better as I present him to the family.
His tiny fingers curl against my chest, and he makes a small whimpering sound.
Holly bounces up from her seat, trying to peek at him, but Hannah holds her back with a gentle hand.
I move closer to Benjamin, whose face has drained of color.
"Is it really him?" Benjamin asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes," I reply softly, "the herbs worked faster than we thought."
Hannah looks between us, her eyes wide with realization. "So, he's... our brother now?"
I place Nick in the antique oak crib we've kept in the nursery, watching as his chest rises and falls with each tiny breath.
The moonlight streaming through the window casts a silver glow on his peaceful face, now completely transformed into that of an infant.
His small fists clutch the yellow blanket I've tucked around him, and his rosebud mouth makes gentle sucking movements in his sleep.
When I adjust his position slightly, he stirs but doesn't wake.
I sit in the rocking chair beside the crib, watching his tiny face scrunch up as he begins to stir.
His whimpers grow into hungry cries that echo through the nursery.
When I lift his transformed body from the crib, he immediately turns his head toward my chest, mouth opening and closing.
My maternal instincts take over as I unbutton my blouse.
Nick latches on instantly, his small hands pressing against me while he nurses.
His eyes flutter closed in contentment, and I stroke his downy head while he feeds.