The Christmas Party

I hung up the phone and collapsed on my couch. He wasn’t coming home tonight, or the next night. He wasn’t going to be home until Christmas Eve, but he promised he would be home in time for my company Christmas party. He promised me that he would be home so I didn’t have to go alone. He knew how much I loved the holidays, and he knew even more how much I hated stupid company parties. He promised, and I had the sinking feeling that his promise meant nothing.

“Oh, shut up, Leyla. Give him a chance before you cast him aside. He’s your goddamn fiancé,” I scolded myself internally. I had this bad habit of being awful to him, of believing the worst when he only gave me the best. He’d only let me down a handful of times for the 10 years we’d known each other. We’d been engaged for close to a year, and I still didn’t believe in him. He was the sweetest, most well-meaning man I’d ever met.

Why was I so horrid, while the love of my life was so perfect?

Angry, I stood up from the couch and stalked into my bathroom, trying to put it from my mind. It was 5 days until Christmas, and half of my shopping wasn’t done. I still had to buy for the fiancé, his family and bandmates, and my own family. The only people I had bought for were my best friend, Sydney and my Secret Santa partner from work. That was probably less than half. I was a shameless procrastinator, I’ll admit. Most of my Christmas shopping wasn’t done until Christmas Eve every year anyway.

I turned the shower on, waiting for ages while the old water heater tried to warm the water. When the stream was warm enough, I stripped off my pajamas and stepped into the shower. It was never cold in Orlando, Florida, not like it was in my hometown up north. I missed it, strangely, the crisp, cold and the first snow. I missed the cold that would seep its way into your bones and stay there for hours, no matter how long you sat in front of the heater. I missed it all, the snowball fights and scraping ice off the windshield just to get to work or class.

I’d given up my life in New York City for him, to be with him, and most of the time, he wasn’t even here. I understood, though. He had a job. He had a job that took him across the country for months at a time. I never brought it up, how much it hurt that he missed my birthday or our anniversary, or holidays. I didn’t tell him that sometimes, I just wanted him to stay home with me instead of going out to a show with his friends. How were we supposed to start a family when he was halfway around the world ninety percent of the year?

Stop it, Leyla, I scolded myself yet again. I always did this. He deserved better than me, really, but for some reason, the boy stayed with me. He stayed with me despite my shortcomings. He held me close on the nights he was home and promised me the world. He swore I was perfect and that he could never find anyone better for him than me. He told me he loved me every day, called me every opportunity and texted me a goodnight every single night before he went to bed. He was perfect, and I didn’t deserve him, even if he was late half of the time and gone the other half.

I called Sydney after I was dressed, my best friend who I met the first week in Orlando. Being the girlfriend of a famous lead singer was lonely, especially when the boyfriend had to constantly disappear for interviews and in-store performances. It sucked, but sometimes, fate drops a consolation prize in your lap. I was in line at a coffee shop, in desperate need of a good cup of strong coffee since I hadn’t slept at all the night before when Sydney recognized me from one of the band’s livestreams. She struck up a conversation about my boots and we’ve been friends ever since. I wouldn’t have survived in Florida without her, actually.

“What’s up, bitch?” she answered, her voice still edged with sleep.

“Get up, we’re going shopping,” I said and hung up. I put everything I needed for the day into my purse; my wallet, chapstick, a list of present ideas, my cell phone, lotion, a coupon book I bought from a Girl Scout for local businesses, and a book just in case. Out of habit, I also added a scarf and mittens. It was a big purse, another habit I picked up from living in the dead of winter for most of my life. You learned to pack extra, just in case the weather did an unexpected 180.

I grabbed my keys and headed out when the home phone started ringing. I checked the caller ID and groaned. I picked it up with an attempted cheery hello.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.

“Nothing,” I replied. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to apologize. You deserve better than me just flying in on Christmas Eve,” he said.

“Kellin, you don’t have to apologize. I understand you have a job you have to do. This is your dream, and who am I to ask you to give that up so I can have you home? As long as you’re home, okay? I love you. I gotta go. Syd and I are going shopping.”

“Bye,” he mumbled and we hung up. It bothered me that he didn’t say I love you and that he was upset enough to actually call me to apologize. I put it from my mind and headed out to meet my best friend for a day of well-deserved shopping, even if I wasn’t shopping for myself. I preferred spending money on others anyway. I did need to find a dress for the Christmas party, though. Maybe just a little bit of personal shopping, then.

I smiled at the thought.

Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad, I thought to myself and started off.