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After bidding the blistering summer a farewell, the brisk autumn air returned, and with the season changing, both you and your husband delighted in the new seasonal treats popping up around the city.
It was always your favorite activity to do with him—prowling around town and going on impromptu dates in search of new limited edition treats for the season.
With autumn returning, it ushered in new variations of mooncakes for this year. Alongside the familiar Eastern treats, there were also an abundance of warm spices introduced into Western desserts and beverages.
For the longest time, it was just the two of you, and perhaps in the moment, it had just seemed like it would always be just the two of you. While dating, it hadn’t occurred to either of you two to look so far ahead into the future, especially when it came to the subject of family.
Zayne knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life—wanted to see each new year with you. Grow old with you.
You wanted the same, being unable to imagine a life with anyone but him.
Then, one year, around this same time with the beginning of autumn approaching, you had started humoring a new thought: What if… it wasn’t just the two of you anymore? What if… instead of a family of two, you became a family of three instead?
You, him, and a little one, a perfect blend of the two of you.
As it turned out, Zayne was on board from the start. He was ready to dive into the next stage of life with you in a heartbeat.
You had always thought life with just Zayne was perfect, unable to imagine a greater happiness than being together with your husband, but as it turned out, that moment when you finally held your newborn son, it filled a hole you didn’t even knew was there.
A little baby boy—a perfect little clone of Zayne.
He brought a greater happiness into both of your lives with each new day with him. The little baby may have looked like Zayne, but as he grew older, you both noticed the boy was developing mannerism and quirks that were equal parts of the two of you.
While he sometimes had his father’s serious personality, he also had his mother’s mischievous tendencies. One shared trait with both parents, however, was the little boy’s insatiable love for sweets.
When he was a baby, you teased your son with a taste of whipped cream or milk foam, delighting in the way his little hazel eyes seemed to have widened in awestruck curiosity at the sweet unfamiliar taste.
When he had started eating solids, you knew for sure your son had inherited your husband’s sweet tooth, seeing the way the little boy always pointed at yours or his father’s dessert for another taste.
Now that he was three, the little boy was just as much of an expert as his father when it came to dessert. You suspected both father and son may have had many, many bonding moments over secret trips to dessert shops, because you had never met a young child—a toddler, no less—well versed in the quality of a good macaron.
“Mommy? What’s that?” Your son asked, standing on his little tippy-toes in front of a glass display case at a bakery that made both savory and sweet goods.
You and your husband had already selected a few new treats to try as well as some familiar favorites. Kneeling next to your son, your gaze followed where his finger pointed at a dessert shaped like a small pumpkin.
“Let’s see… it says it’s a pumpkin cheesecake truffle,” you answered after reading from the nameplate next to the dessert.
“What’s a truffle?”
“Chocolate,” Zayne answered for you.
“So… pumpkin… cheesecake… chocolate?” the boy asked, his brows furrowing in deep contemplation. He wasn’t sure if that sounded good or not, knowing all three subjects separately but not together. He also wasn’t that terribly fond of pumpkin, so he wondered why anyone would pair that with something delicious like cheesecake or chocolate.
You and Zayne shared a look, amused by the way your son was trying to process what he had just learned.
“Would you like to try one?” you asked your son, surprised when he shook his head vehemently. Rarely, would the boy object to a dessert, but you decided not to push him on this matter.
“No, thank you,” he piped up. “I want that instead!”
Both you and Zayne looked at the dessert the boy gestured to. It was an apple mousse tart. There was an indulgent buttery crust for the base, filled with a rich vanilla custard, and on top, the mousse layer was shaped like half an apple with a shiny thin bright red-dyed chocolate outer shell.
“Interesting choice,” Zayne commented, “Isn’t it much too big for a little boy like you?”
The boy paused and pondered his father’s teasing words, before he responded brightly, “I won’t eat my breakfast, so I can have more room for this!”
You snickered at Zayne’s dumbfounded expression. “We’ll share this dessert,” you interjected. Seeing the little boy’s immediate pout at the prospect of eating less than he had anticipated, you brushed his hair out of his face. Afterwards, you cupped his small round face in your hands, lightly squishing it before you planted a firm kiss on his cheek. Gently, you explained to your sulking son, “You still need to eat your regular meals. How else will you grow up to be as tall as Daddy?”
“I thought Daddy is big because he eats a lot of desserts?”
“Ah—” You started giggling as Zayne’s frown deepened. Seeing the way your husband tried in vain to pretend he didn’t hear his son’s innocent—albeit skewed—observation, you mischievously pondered aloud, “Wait, maybe you do have a point—”
“Enough of that,” Zayne interjected as he finished paying for the order. He smiled politely, thanking the staff as they handed him a tray with an assortment of small desserts and breakfast items, two large-sized beverages and one small child-sized cup.
In the quaint dessert shop, you found a table by the window. Your son sat by the window with you next to him while Zayne sat across from the both of you.
“Let’s see,” Zayne started, picking up one of the larger beverages. “Do you want the cinnamon maple latte or the salted caramel mocha?”
“Mocha please,” you piped up, pausing. “I remember when you didn’t like this latte though. Why did you order it?”
“It grew on me,” he said, taking a sip. “It reminds me… of my birthday that one year.”
“Which year?” your son interrupted, and suddenly, your cheeks looked a little rosier, having caught Zayne’s implication. “Was I there?”
Zayne chuckled. “Not yet.”
The boy seemed confused.
“Eat your breakfast first, my darling,” you interrupted, shooting Zayne a warning look. You cut a croque monsieur into smaller bites for your son, watching in approval as he obediently ate his breakfast first. “Chew slowly.”
The time passed with idle chatters as you all shared the meal. Aside from the savory dishes, Zayne had also ordered five different desserts to try, and unsurprisingly, your son was having the time of his life taste testing each one.
“Why do you like desserts so much?” Zayne teased the little boy, watching with fondness at the way he held his small cup with both hands and took slow sips of his steamed milk with careful supervision by you.
“Because they’re yummy!” he responded brightly with a milk foam mustache on his upper lip, his grin widening as he added as an afterthought, “And they make me happy.”
Zayne paused, a gentle smile lingered on his face after hearing his son’s honest thoughts. With his arm outstretched across the small table, Zayne gently rubbed his son’s cheek affectionately, and then his thumb brushed away the milk foam above the little boy’s mouth. “Mommy said something similar to me before.”
“What did you tell Daddy, Mommy?” the boy turned his attention to you, curious.
You looked at Zayne, just as confused as your son.
Zayne simply smiled at the two identical expressions before him, feeling a sudden burst of affections in his heart for his family. “If she’s sad, then having something sweet uplifts her mood.”
Quietly, you met Zayne’s soft, tender gaze, answering him with your own. The distant memories replayed in your mind, but hearing your son’s sweet voice brought you back to the present just as quickly.
“We’re not sad,” the boy declared firmly, “We’re very, very, very happy!”
“Yeah,” Zayne agreed, eyes meeting yours again before he gazed fondly with fatherly love for his son. The little boy had just entered both of your lives a mere three years earlier, but it felt like he was always meant to be here—his sweet presence loved long before he was even born.
Zayne could no longer remember those cold years alone. The day you had returned to his life, it was like the snow was melting, bringing an end to a very long, lonely winter. He had never once—never dared—to dream of a warm, tender future like this one, but perhaps it was always destined to be his.
To love and to be loved—Zayne was overwhelmed by the many blessings these past years had brought forth. To share his life with the person he treasured the most—and to be blessed with a child he could love and cherished for the rest of his days.
He wanted nothing more than to safeguard this feeling—to greedily hold on tight to everything and everyone he loved. Zayne’s smile lingered, as he memorized this innocuous moment: His sweet little boy, wonderstruck by the sweet taste of autumn, and you, the love of his life, radiating endless happiness, always the most beautiful person in the room—in his life.
Zayne could wish for nothing more, feeling like he had everything he could have ever wanted right here right now. Quietly, he mused aloud, his soft, gentle voice lost amongst the various idle chatters in the café:
“We’re a very happy family.”