When you wish apoun me.

RORY. My life has always been chaotic. Unfair you could say. But then life is a b***h. Not to me alone. But sometimes it feels like it. You would think that holidays are suppose to offer exception — but no. Zero. Though it still doesn’t diminish my hopes, I want this Christmas to be different. I have laid measures to make sure of that. Think of a gateway paradise for two weeks, spending Christmas in a luxurious building… what is that if not, what anyone would want for Christmas. And by doing so, it offers a chance to fix things with my boyfriend. Mark. My Mark. Things have been rough if I’m honest. Lately — months now all we can seem to do is argue more than communicate. This paradise would offer a nice relaxation that we desperately both need. And eventually I’d give in during Christmas. I haven’t told him yet but I’m ready. Ready to take that step with him. To cross the line and let our bodies become one. And in turn proving Martha wrong, aka my best friend. According to her if a guy is comfortable in waiting then it would mean he is getting it somewhere else. Absurd! She doesn’t know him like I do. This is Mark we are talking about. The man I love. The only guy that wasn’t afraid to be around me after… prison. Didn’t taunt. Didn’t blame me. The only one who actually believed me and not my sister. Point is, he’d never do that to me and this Christmas was going to be different I could feel it in my bones. I look at my hand less watch. And f**k— late! The thing about work is excuses don’t exactly work. And today I am working late. I sneak in through the back. Jason promised to leave the back door unlocked. Courtesy for all the times I helped him out too. After a quick change to my uniform I make myself busy. It’s the first of December. And it is already full. The Grind is after all a nice spot and plus they sometimes show games. So yeah, Friday’s are horrendous. Always filled to capacity with men who place bets wrongly but somehow the world is blamed for his stupidity except him. My next customer’s speech is slurred with bourbon, snaps a finger in my direction. “ Hey, sweetheart, this pie tastes like regret. Get me a new one. And smile, will ya? It’s Christmas.” Well not really. It’s the first of December. But I don’t correct him. I know how that drill goes and it’s not good. And for an ex con there isn’t exactly many places I can work in. Beggars aren’t choosers. So I just nod. I have had worse customers. From the chauvinists to gropers. I offer a small, placid smile so he doesn’t think I didn’t hear him out. “Of course, sir. I’ll get that for you right away.” And head to the kitchen. Marco just shakes his head, handing me one almost immediately. He is the head chef. And nice too. Work runs smoothly. Focus on point. And I actually got a twenty bucks tip. And ever so often, my mind drifts in between thinking about Mark and how happy he'll be after I show him the tickets. I fish it from my pockets with a small smile. I worked hard for this, it’s months of my hard work. Martha mentioned something about turquoise water and white sand, a world away from the city’s gray slush. A perfect and romantic Christmas. This has to be the perfect gift. An anniversary surprise. Our first actually. He once told me I am the strongest person he knew. I put it back. Straightening as new customers arrive. Even when I’m late for work— s**t! I am working late today. I’ll be done by around 9pm. Just enough time to catch a cab to his place. His apartment. That was by the way. Much better than mine. Hours pass. And when the clock hits 9. I practically run out of there. Get the first cab and pop on. In no time, I arrive in his apartment. His apartment is better than mine, just to state. He has everything. From fine windows to serenity. Two combinations I lacked. Mine is crappy. Think of leaking roof, a broken window and neighbors who have no problems shouting from the top of their lungs about their problems. I sigh clutching the tickets in my coat pocket now, heart a frantic bird against my ribs as I approach his apartment. Plan is simple. Help him cook something nice. He doesn’t eat supper before 10. So a surprise dinner would be nice. Already bought the grocery needed. I could already see his stunned , joyful smile. I fish out a key balancing the grocery I bought early in my other hand ready to open. But due to my surprise the door was unlocked. I smile. He’s home. I clear my throat swing open a gentle push. I’ll tiptoe. Close it gently be hind me. I place the grocery on the kitchen counter. Tiptoe to the stairs of his room given he is nowhere in sight. I open the door gently I hear the shower running. I am about to turn to make dinner but a sound stops me in my track. I freeze. I hate those sounds. Because it could ruin me. So I turn quickly. Slowly. Refusing to believe my ears. But it loud. There are hands on the walls of his bathroom. A tear escapes me. Please no. Don’t be Mark. I repeat silently. And when I open the door I see them. Mark. Naked. With a woman. And not just any woman. But my own sister. “ L-Leah.”