Christmas Coincidence

Never, in all my long years on this miserable earth, has something gone downhill so quickly. Hadn't this been what I had wanted? What I had been looking forward to since I was a mere child?

So why did it feel like the end, rather than the beginning?

Max had been my boyfriend for just over a year and a half. It was mid-afternoon on Christmas day, the snow was falling softly, pitter pattering like the bare feet of elves on the roof.

I stared into those familiar roasting-chestnut eyes, the lights from the tree making them dance a delicate ballet, and felt absolutely nothing. Not. A. Single. Thing.

I had scoured my insides, rubbing them raw, searching for some - any - future with him. And came up so totally short.

"My beautiful Jenna, will you marry me?"

Down there, on his knee, brandishing a large diamond, he had never looked less appealing.

Had he always breathed so loudly? Rolled his 'r's so impertinently? I realised in that moment, as my mind noted every minor flaw in poor Max that to marry him, was the last thing I wanted in the world.

I had stuttered, struggled and grappled with each syllable while I explained to him that I didn't feel anything for him anymore. Agony so unbelievably strong dawned on his somewhat attractive features - surely I should have felt something at that?

Why had I wasted so long?

I had streaked from the warm house we had shared, bundled in any warm clothes I could pick up at a moments notice. Beneath my boots, the floor was treacherous, it slid and moved underfoot with the layers of ice and snow. I had to fight the urge to run, despite the dangerous terrain.

Following the sounds of people, people who were not probably curled up in a ball on the floor howling because of me, and found myself in a bustling market square. Lampposts billowed tangerine light onto the sparkling white below my feet, the glass ornaments hanging in stalls and the rosy cheeks of the cold people on the street. Smells of great, warm food saturated the air in a near-tangible fashion. Magnificent, if I hadn't been feeling so glum.

Christmas was truly magical in the way it managed to draw people together. It was a sparse crowd, mostly people seemed to be at home with families. The people that roamed the brightly lit stalls were elderly, withering, crinkled like old paper, or youthful, or middle-aged, all lonely, but never alone. New acquaintances were forming all around me, chess tables set up in the snow hosting grand matches, conversations struck up in passing.

I steered away from all the joyful people, I wasn't in the mindset. More lonely than anyone.

Somehow, I couldn't find it within myself to feel loss over Max. Hadn't it been just this morning I had told him I loved him? Could a person change so much in one day?

I wandered up to a stall-front, craving the comforting heater more than anything they were actually selling, and examined a few of the beautiful ornaments that hung there. Most of them seemed to be ironic, funny in an awful, embarrassing, dad-joke kind of way. It was one in particular that caught my eye. A dressed up elf, lowered down on one knee, bearing a ring.

I was not prepared for the roaring, thunderous laughter that rang through me like reindeer bells. It echoed everyone around into awkward silence.

Once my senses returned, I hurried away from the market. The heat from the stalls no longer needed; my cheeks were doing that job just fine.

I headed to the only other place I knew I could go. My friends Josh and Simon were hosting a Christmas party, fortunately close to my house. I strolled in the dark, the snow swirling around my face and melting on my cheeks. If I were in a better mood, I would have described them as falling stars from the dark night, as dancers twirling and waltzing the nutcracker in mid-air, but I wasn't in a better mood.

So they were just wet. And cold.

I heard the party before I saw it. The base was shaking the ground with its voice, it reverberated off of the other houses in the street. I felt for their residence.

Inside was chaos. Anarchy in ever sense of the word, alcoholic beverages covering every surface (mostly eggnog) and dozens of people dancing in glittering dresses and there were more than five Santa hats. How was I meant to find either friend in this pandemonium?

After what seemed like an eternity of searching and a drink in hand already half gone, I spotted them. They were both in a deep conversation with a pair of girls. I wormed myself through the crowd to meet them.

"Jenna!" They cried over the music and hugged me.

"We weren't expecting you." Josh exclaimed.

"Yeah well, neither was I." I took a slug of whatever it was that I was drinking. "What are you two idiots doing then?"

"Playing truth or dare."

"Isn't that a children's game?" I mocked.

"Not if you're black-out drunk it's not." Simon laughed, "Speaking of the game, will she do?" One of the girls nodded. My pulse quickened.

Both of them kneeled to the ground. That pulse stopped altogether.

"Our wonderful Jenna, will you be our bride?" They spoke as one.

I don't know if I screamed, swore or said nothing at all but I was out of that house as quickly as someone could say Merry Christmas. I shuddered and cringed as I walked out of earshot of the base. I would explain that reaction to them later.

How or why, I could not tell you, but I found myself sat on a bench outside of the biggest, oldest and most elaborate building in the city. The benches were large and fancy enough to not look out of place, so I suppose that was an excuse for my residing there. That and the fact that I had absolutely nowhere left to go.

I was wallowing in the loneliness when the stranger came and sat beside me.

At first, it sent a chill through my blood. I snuck a glance at this mysterious stranger. He had tanned skin and a bristling shadow of a black beard that matched his hair. It was long and curtained in a way that framed his face nicely. The jawline was sharp enough to cut metal. Unbelievably handsome, from first fleeting glance.

I should have been terrified, walking away already, but his beautiful angular features were kind and gentle in a way I didn't understand. But trusted anyway.

"Can I help you?" I asked, my voice trembling- but not from fear.

"Not unless you would be willing to marry me." He sighed, his voice was gravelly and yet smooth, the bark of an oak tree and the golden stream of fresh honey.

Once the words had sunk in, I shot to my feet. "Is this some kind of joke?" I blurted.

He looked more than startled, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." He apologised and I knew from the sincerity that they weren't going to pull out any reality TV cameras. It was all just horrid coincidence.

"I am sorry, you wouldn't believe the night I've had. It was awful."

"I'd wager mine was worse."

"Not a chance."

"Try me." He challenged. Why not?

"I had to reject a marriage proposal and break up with my boyfriend , then all kinds of proposals started popping up," an exasperated sigh, "you're the fifth tonight." We laughed.

"It would appear yet another coincidence has befallen you in your meeting me. I was on the other side of your first proposal."

"I'm sorry," I murmured, feeling suddenly guilty. He chuckled.

"Don't worry about it, you're not the one who broke my heart on Christmas night. I'm Will," he extended a calloused had, which I shook.

"Jenna."

"It would appear fate wanted us to meet this evening, Jenna,"

"It would appear that way."

"So, do you want to marry me?"

"Buy me dinner first?" I proposed myself and he shrugged as if to say 'why not?'.

"Alright," he extended me an arm which I took, "it appears a Christmas miracle has taken place. A beautiful girl on my arm after all." And with that he led us to a restaurant, to a relationship, to love and eventually...

to marriage.