Not So Merry Christmas

The moment Melody and Brandon stepped into the glittering hall of the Callahan mansion, she felt an immediate shift. The room was everything she had imagined and more, towering chandeliers dripping with gold crystals, a massive twelve-foot tree decorated with real glass ornaments, wreaths wrapped in red velvet bows, live violins playing soft carols. Elegance. 

Except Brandon didn’t hold her hand.

And that was the first red flag she felt pierce through her chest.

This was the same man who used to cling to her at parties, kiss her forehead in public, rest his hand on the small of her back as though she was too precious to lose sight of. He used to joke about her being “his Christmas miracle.” Yet tonight, right here, surrounded by hundreds of people, he walked beside her like they were nothing more than acquaintances.

Melody forced a soft smile as they moved further into the hall together. Couples entered laughing, holding hands, giggling under mistletoe decorations. Meanwhile, Brandon kept a full foot of distance between them.

Before she could process the ache settling in her chest, Mr. Callahan, tall, beaming, and dressed in a navy velvet tuxedo spotted them. His face lit up as he walked briskly toward them.

“Brandon!” he said warmly. “And Melody! Welcome!” He opened his arms as if greeting family. “Is it too early to say Merry Christmas?”

“I doubt,” Melody replied, immediately slipping into her polite, graceful mode. “You have a beautiful house.”

“Thank you. I would give you a private tour of the new renovation, but as you can see,” He gestured to the flood of guests arriving behind them. “I’m needed everywhere tonight.” His eyes softened as he looked at Melody. “How is the wedding planning coming along?”

Melody’s smile widened instinctively. She’d always been proud of their plans.

“Oh, it’s going well, we’re going for something simple. A garden wedding just close friends, and family. Something intimate.”

She turned to Brandon, his expression was bored, distant, almost irritated. He didn’t add a single word to the conversation. 

Before she could dwell on it, more guests entered, and Mr. Callahan excused himself with a kind smile.

“Enjoy the evening. Good to have you both here.”

The moment he left, Melody inhaled softly and turned to Brandon.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted a hand and motioned toward the passing waiters.

“I’ll get us drinks,” he muttered.

He didn’t wait for her response. He didn’t even look at her. He simply reached for a champagne flute from a server’s tray and handed it to her without meeting her eyes.

Melody took it gently.

“Thank you.”

He grunted something that barely sounded like “Sure.”

She tried again.

“So… where’s Jamie? Is he coming?”

Brandon clicked his tongue sharply and shot her a glare. “How am I supposed to know? Am I Jamie’s nanny?”

“Oh sorry,” she whispered quickly. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just thought… since he's your friend, maybe you would know.”

But she didn’t finish, because she suddenly heard her name in a cheerful, excited tone.

“Melody!”

She turned instantly.

Cynthia, eight months pregnant, glowing in a simple white dress hurried toward her. Her baby bump was round and perfect, her smile radiant despite the exhaustion visible beneath her eyes.

“Look at you!” Cynthia squealed, hugging her. “You look gorgeous!”

“So do you,” Melody breathed sincerely. “You look amazing, yummy mummy.”

Cynthia laughed and waved the compliment away. “Girl, don't start with me.”

Melody smiled warmly.

The women shared a few minutes of lively chatter. In between their conversation, Melody kept glancing at Brandon. But Brandon had already excused himself.

He mumbled something about “getting fresh air” and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Cynthia frowned slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Melody lied with a brittle smile. “Just stress.”

Cynthia squeezed her hand. “I understand.”

Melody nodded, and the two women mingled a bit with passing guests. Cynthia was always better at social scenes, even heavily pregnant. Meanwhile, Melody stood at the bar, taking in the room’s beauty.

She waited for Brandon to return. Fourth five minutes past, nothing.

Her eyes scanned every corner of the ballroom, couples dancing, colleagues laughing near the buffet, servers weaving through tables with trays of desserts. But no sign of Brandon.

At one point, she spotted Jamie across the room standing with some construction workers she recognized from previous company picnics. He waved at her. She waved back.

But Brandon?

Nowhere.

Her chest tightened.

Maybe he really was having an intense business talk somewhere. Maybe he stepped outside for a call. Maybe she was overthinking.

Melody set her champagne glass on the nearest table and walked toward a staff member.

“Hi,” she said softly. “Could you tell me where the restroom is?”

The server smiled politely. “Of course, miss. Go down this hallway, turn left, and go upstairs. The guest restroom is the third door on the right.”

“Thank you.”

Melody walked away, her heels tapping sharply against polished floors. The hallway was dimmer, quieter. The music from the ballroom softened behind her like fading echoes. She climbed the staircase slowly, but something in her chest felt like it was beating too fast.

As she followed the server’s directions, she approached a room with its door slightly open, and she heard a soft moan.

She smiled awkwardly, shaking her head.

“Oh God,” she muttered under her breath. “People can’t even wait until they get home? Seriously?”

She rolled her eyes and continued to the restroom.

Inside, she washed her hands, retouched her lip gloss, and checked her reflection. She looked fine. A little uneasy, but fine. She exhaled deeply.

“You’re okay,” she whispered. “He’s probably downstairs. Calm down.”

She stepped back out into the hallway.

And then she heard it again.

A woman’s moan, followed by a low male groan that vibrated down the hall. Melody’s heart stuttered.

But it was the next sound that shattered her.

“Braaandon…”

The woman moaned his name like a prayer.

Melody’s blood froze.

Her legs went weak.

Her eyes widened, and she found herself being pulled toward the sound like a magnet. She took slow steps, almost trembling, and approached the door with the small gap.

Her hands shook, her heart hammered so loudly she felt dizzy.

She leaned forward and peeped.

The world stopped.

There was Brandon, her fiancé, the man she loved, trusted, and planned a life with.

Pressed against a blonde woman on the edge of the table.

Her soul felt ripped from her.

Her heart, the same heart she’d protected so carefully all year, was crushed beneath the weight of that single image, she gripped the wall just to keep herself from collapsing.

Without making a sound, Melody turned sharply and ran down the hall, down the stairs, through the golden-lit entrance,

past the surprised guests.

She ran past Cynthia who shouted, “Melody?! Melody, what happened?!”

But she didn’t look back.

She ran out into the freezing December night, the snow hitting her skin like shards of glass, her breath shaking uncontrollably.

And for the first time this Christmas season, Melody knew it wasn’t going to be a Merry Christmas aftet all.