A Christmas.story Novels & Stories

Cyrus was right, if I had goals. “Can you use magic to help?” Jane offered. “I can imagine a good grade.” Suddenly, the daunting task seemed attainable. “Esmerelda!” Cyrus and Ghost exclaimed. “What does the pack do for Christmas?” I winked at Jane. She understood my tactic. “Christmas?” “Isn’t it next week?” “I suppose it is.” “Can I invite Uncle Harris?” “Maybe we can celebrate at the bar.” Cyrus deflected. “I need to look forward to something joyous.”

I learned to be thankful and quiet. That acceptance made me hate Christmas. Love songs made my skin crawl. The lights under our tree looked like glass eyes. The ribbons on the presents were traps. Every year, the house tuned itself to cheer and I pretended to enjoy it. The twenty-fifth became the night when a new kind of cold touched my bones. It was the day the truth had crawled out at me like an animal. It was the day I had learned how much of my life had been decided by other hands.

Maya: "Tomorrow." Derek: "Tomorrow I'm kissing you. Rules or no rules." Maya: "I'm counting on it." I climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling, knowing sleep was impossible. Because tomorrow was Christmas. And tomorrow, apparently, Derek was done following all the rules. I couldn't wait.

The snow keeps falling, heavy and suffocating. When I finally gather enough courage to walk home, my nerves are shredded. My thoughts got tangled. My chest tightened I reach my doorstep, fumbling for my keys. And there,lying on my welcome mat—is something small, wooden, and dusted with snow. A Christmas ornament. Hand-carved. Shaped like a house.Burning. A single number etched into its back: 24 The countdown has begun.

Brayan asks, his big round eyes widening as he pleads, and there’s no way I’m saying no to that. “Fine,” I tell him. This is the last of the Christmas decor anyway, so he can get to put it up. I hand him the flower, pick him up to give him some added height, and I direct him to hang the mistletoe over the door knocker. “WOW! It’s so nice and pretty. This is where kisses happen right?” Brayan asks innocently, and I nod. He turns to face me, malice glinting in his baby eyes, and already knowing that he’s about to ask when I’ll kiss a girl here, I attack him with a ton of kisses. Since he’s in my arms, there’s really nothing else for him to do other than twist in my grasp.

Just like that, I told him everything that was happening, excluding my one-night stand story. As predicted, he was furious. Just like Emily, he has never liked Josh for me. The call ended, but not without me letting him know not to let anyone know what happened. I quickly had my bath and changed into something more comfortable. Today is Christmas, and I will have a fun-filled evening. It dawned on me that I did not see any Christmas trees hanging around anywhere. Nothing feels like the season around here. Everywhere is quiet. I might as well shop for a Christmas tree with my best friend and light up the house.

“Apparently, I can’t leave my restaurant unattended without chaos breaking loose.” He chuckled. “That’s because you run a tight ship.” She softened. “Maybe. But I don’t regret it. I’m glad we came home for Christmas. I needed that time.” “Me too!” Laya chimed in before yawning so wide her eyes watered. “Best Christmas ever.” She rubbed her face. “Daddy, can you tell me a bedtime story again tonight? The one about the brave princess?” Jordan nodded instantly. “Of course I can. Bath and PJs first, then Momma will bring you the phone. And tonight, that princess might get a dragon.”

At the bottom of the frame a woman's hand rested on the waistband of his trousers, her position making it clear she was on her knees. The whole image just sat there saying everything it needed to say without a single word. Chloe and I looked at each other and we pressed it at the same time. “That's it.” “Yep! Absolutely it!” A message loaded and popped up in the home screen. Chloe read it out loud, slowly, in the voice she used when something was almost too much. "Your Christmas Fantasy is about to get dangerous. If you can resist the heat—" she stopped. Looked at me. "Come with your dripping pussy."

He was tall, really tall for a Santa Claus, that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes—oh, his eyes. They were an icy gray that seemed to bare my soul, uncovering every hidden secret before his eyes. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine, but I couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the way those eyes made me feel, something so distinct yet I couldn't put my hands on it. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his deep baritone causing my heart to thrum so loudly in my chest I could only stand there and gawk like a damn fool.

I've been ignoring him, but his persistence is becoming problematic. I deleted the message without reading it. The Christmas gala is in two days. The annual event where the city's elite gather to see and be seen, to make deals and alliances over champagne and caviar. I'll need to bring Ava, show her off as my devoted wife, maintain the illusion that everything is fine. She'll smile and play her part because she has no choice. Because I've made sure she has nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to. And I'll stand beside her, touching her waist, playing the role of perfect husband, hating myself a little more with every passing moment.