Alone on Christmas

Daniel sat on the edge of his couch, staring at the blinking lights of a small, artificial Christmas tree he had purchased from Walmart the week before. It wasn't much—just a few feet tall, with thin branches and cheap plastic ornaments—but it was all he could manage this year. He had no energy to make it better, no heart to pretend everything was okay. The room was silent except for the hum of the heater struggling to warm the drafty apartment. Outside, snowflakes swirled under the amber glow of the streetlights, dusting the rooftops and empty sidewalks. Daniel watched them fall, their soft descent a stark contrast to the heaviness in his chest. This was his first Christmas alone.

Almost a year ago, his life had unraveled. After a decade of marriage, countless arguments, and nights spent sleeping on opposite sides of the bed or on the couch, he finally said the words he had been unable to speak out loud: "I want a divorce." His mind was made up, and he knew, deep down, that their love had faded long before he said it aloud. He was no longer happy. Neither was she. He tried for many years, but it was not something he could fix, and boy, he liked to fix things. But he didn't feel like their values aligned anymore. More compromises were being made that he no longer felt like himself anymore. 

Now, she was spending Christmas with their two children, Sophie and Max, with her family in Florida. Daniel had been invited, but he couldn't bear the thought of sitting in that living room, watching everyone toring into brightly wrapped gifts and hastily casting aside in pursuit of the next. So he had declined, telling her he needed "time to himself," though he wasn't sure what that meant. The clock ticked past 7 PM, and Daniel realized he hadn't eaten all day. He wandered into the kitchen, where the fridge held a few leftovers, veggies, and yogurt dangerously close to its expiration date. He pulled out some peppers, carrots, and onions to make himself a stir fry. At least this was going to keep his mind busy for a while. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. As soon as he was stirring the vegetables, his mind wandered again. 

His work friends said that Nikki put the last nail in the coffin of his marriage. Three years ago, Nikki was hired as an on-campus psychologist to manage work stress, anxiety, and even personal relationships at his financial company. At first, it was an office joke, but after James from Underwriting shot himself in the office, things got serious quickly. 

Nikki and Daniel hit it off almost instantly. It was like a spark that ignited between them. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, like a dance of intellectual discourse and emotional vulnerability, each revelation forging a deeper connection between their kindred spirits. Daniel, a financial advisor, approached life with meticulous precision honed through years of analyzing numbers and predicting market trends. In contrast, the psychologist, Nikki, possessed a compassionate intuition, delving into the abyss of the human psyche with empathy and understanding. 

Daniel was captivated by Nikki's unwavering empathy and understanding, admiring how she dealt with human emotions with grace and compassion. Nikki, in turn, found comfort in Daniel's analytical mind and sharp wit, appreciating how he challenged and pushed her to think beyond the confines of her own experiences. This shared warmth and curiosity drew them together despite their differing backgrounds and professions, forging a bond that defied conventional boundaries. 

The microwave beeped, snapping him back to the present. The chicken thighs had defrosted. Daniel added a teriyaki sauce and some spices to the chicken and then added them to his stir fry, which was still cooking. A few minutes later, he carried a steaming dish to the couch, his appetite fading every step. He picked at the food and forced down a few bites before giving up entirely. It wasn't hunger that gnawed at him tonight; it was the emptiness, the ache of being alone in a season meant for togetherness. If he hated the holidays before, he loathed them now. 

After giving up on eating dinner, Daniel turned on the television, hoping to drown out his thoughts. A classic Christmas movie was playing, the kind with a happy family gathered around the tree, their faces glowing with love and laughter. He couldn't watch it. He switched to Netflix and kept browsing until he found an action movie he meant to watch a few months ago. It was loud, chaotic, and far removed from the holiday cheer he wanted to avoid. But even the explosions and gunfire couldn't quiet his mind. He kept glancing at his phone, half wishing he would get a text from Nikki. 

As their friendship deepened, they found themselves confiding in each other, sharing their hopes, dreams, and fears with a rare and precious level of honesty and vulnerability. Despite the undeniable connection that simmered between them, Daniel and Nikki knew that their bond existed in a liminal space. In this realm, friendship blurred with something deeper and more profound. Both were committed to their relationships, bound by loyalty, yet unable to ignore the undeniable chemistry that crackled between them. 

Then the Christmas party happened. As per tradition, the company rented an entire venue for all its employees to reward their hard work and to celebrate their record profits. Fate played its role as Kelly, Daniel's wife, fell violently sick before the party, and Jake, Nikki's boyfriend, was out of town for his friend's bachelor's party. Nikki showed up alone in a dazzling forest green dress that drew Daniel like a magnet. He just couldn't keep his eyes off of her. As the evening unfolded, the clinking of glasses and the murmurs of laughter provided a backdrop to a subtle dance of stolen glances and lingering touches between Daniel and Nikki. Each glance exchanged, each brush of their hands as they reached for shared plates of appetizers sent shivers down their spines, igniting a slow burn of desire that smoldered beneath the surface. 

From across the crowded room, a man waded through the crowd when he saw Nikki leave Daniel to go to the bathroom. Dodging laughter and clinking glasses, he approached Daniel with a resolute breath. 

"Hey, Danny," he said, forcing a casual tone despite his feelings.  

"Can we talk for a second?" 

"Oh hey Mike, yes, what's up?" Daniel replied that charming smile still dancing on his lips. 

Taking a step closer and lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, Mike vocalized his concern: "Look, I don't want to be a party pooper here, but I just saw how close you were getting with... her." He gestured subtly, careful not to draw too much attention. Daniel shrugged with a dismissive laugh, but the momentary flicker of uncertainty in his eyes betrayed him. "It's just harmless fun, man. It's a party!"

"Yeah, but you're married, Danny," he reminded him gently.

"Just… think about Kelly, okay? You never know a good thing until it's gone. Trust me on that one." 

"I know, I know, I hear you, I swear. " Daniel replied, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone. 

As Nikki returned, Mike wished them a Merry Christmas and stepped away, reassured that he had done his part. However, this reassurance lasted merely a few minutes, as temptation had a way of capturing even the most loyal hearts. With the magical power of alcohol, Daniel and Nikki found themselves on the dance floor, swaying their bodies in a sensual rhythm while the distance between them dissolved with each step, and the heat of their proximity fueled the flames of their attraction. Their eyes locked in heated gaze as the world around them faded into a blur.  

Just when they were about to succumb to the whispers of temptation, Nikki let go of Daniel and walked quickly out of the room, trying to catch her breath and compose herself. Her body felt on fire. She stepped outside and was greeted by a blustering cold wind that almost made her regret her decision, but she desperately needed to cool off. She returned inside a minute later and decided it was time to leave. She went to grab her coat and saw Daniel holding it for her. Why did he have to look at her with those eyes? 

They walked drunkenly together to the elevators without uttering a word. Once the elevator doors closed behind them, Daniel stared at Nikki, his looks resembling longing for both her and himself. Then, without a word, he cupped her face in his hands with a gentle yet possessive touch, a silent plea for permission that she granted with a soft, whispered breath. And then, in a crescendo of pent-up emotion and longing, their lips met in a searing kiss that sent shockwaves of desire coursing through their veins. 

Daniel grinned to himself as he remembered that first kiss in the elevators. He shook his head and reached for the bottle of Bourbon that had accompanied him for the past few nights, poured himself a glass, sat by the window, and watched the snow pile on the sill. He closed his eyes, allowing the haunting echoes of Nikki's voice and the ghostly scent of her perfume to envelop him like a bittersweet embrace, each sensation a stab of longing and regret. 

After the Christmas party, Nikki distanced herself from Daniel. It was initially subtle, but it became more apparent as the days passed. Then, one day, he just asked her what was happening, and she told him she couldn't do this. She couldn't be with a married man. She couldn't cheat on her boyfriend. She enjoyed being with him, but the guilt and how she felt afterward was insurmountable. Their confusing relationship continued, and they talked occasionally, but both struggled with their unspoken longing. 

Then, one day, she disappeared. She sent an email with her resignation without telling him a word. Losing her so suddenly was heartbreaking. He did not know what to do. He tried to message and call, but there was no response. Nikki was gone. She disappeared as if her mere existence was an illusion or something he had made up in his mind.  

Then, one day, an email with her name appeared in his box. He almost broke his computer as his internet slowed down a split second to load the content of the email. Finally, it loaded. Nikki emailed him as if she were talking to him in person without explaining her disappearance or even a simple hello. 

"I had a strong desire to see you today after sitting and watching endless faces passing me by, but none were you. Looking at the table beside me, I closed my eyes and pretended you were there. But then, when I opened my eyes, I just had the polished wooden floors with that 70's yellow color. Usually, rustic things bring a sense of joy and comfort, but I was filled with endless sighs. I couldn't even focus because the constant stream of new people walking in and multiple conversations filling the café felt like chaos in my head. Anxiety was filling my body like it always does. I couldn't be alone, away from people, for more than five minutes.  

I needed to look at you for five minutes to feel sane again. Looking into your face helps because you can look into my eyes and face and know exactly what I think and feel. Nothing stops me or you from moving past our daily routines to a different lifestyle. There's no intention to have an ambiguous conversation, but it's easy to be vague. However, I think we both know what we want because after seeing each other, we rushed to the next place we were expected. It's the truth. But I adore you when you try to talk and share your thoughts. Your forehead and eyebrows scrunch up, revealing this familiar profile I always found comfort in. I am sorry I disappeared like that. I honestly have no idea what I am doing. I miss you all the time. I am sorry again."  

Daniel didn't know what to think or feel, whether to respond or not, or why she emailed him instead of calling or texting. What was clear to him was that he couldn't stay in his marriage anymore. So, he took the next day off, and after dropping the kids off at school, he returned home and asked Kelly for a divorce. The conversation was gut-wrenching, but deep down, he knew it was the best option for everyone. 

Now, on Christmas Eve, he was all alone. He thought about calling his parents, who lived in another state, or his brother, who had invited him to spend the holidays with his family. But he couldn't bring himself to reach out. He didn't want to explain why he was alone, and he didn't want to hear their well-meaning but pitying words. He took another sip of Bourbon and grabbed his phone again. This time, he mustered the courage and sent her a text. 

"I miss you."

He raised his glass to take another sip and whispered to the empty room. 

"Merry Christmas," 

The words hung in the air, unanswered, as the snow continued to fall. Daniel gulped down all his drink and winced as the rich, warm liquid burned its way down his throat, dulling the edges of his disappointment, if only for a moment. He absentmindedly checked his phone, but his screen showed no notifications. With a heavy heart, he threw the phone on the couch and went to his bedroom, anticipating another lonely and quiet night settling around him like a heavy blanket. He fell into his bed and let the powers of alcohol drift him to sleep. 

Minutes later, a faint vibration pulsed through the night, and the small magical screen of Daniel's phone flared to life, casting a cool, pale glow that sliced through the darkness. Dust danced like tiny stars in the air, caught in the screen's fleeting glow. But as quickly as it illuminated the room, the light dimmed and faded into the surrounding shadows.