Christmas Chances

Chapter Nine: Shadows of Envy

Crystal sat at the edge of her vanity, the glow of the ring light bouncing off her carefully applied makeup. The mirror reflected perfection—at least, that’s what she told herself. High cheekbones, glossy hair, lips painted in a shade that screamed confidence. But beneath the surface, a gnawing restlessness lingered.

Holly.

The name alone was enough to sour her mood. Holly, with her bakery and her soft laugh, with her curves she never apologized for, with the way people seemed to like her without effort. Crystal had spent years making sure she was the one people noticed first. Holly was supposed to be the sidekick, the girl who stood in her shadow. And yet, somehow, Holly had always managed to shine.

That night with Jon hadn’t been an accident. Crystal replayed it often, the way Holly’s face had crumpled when she opened the door. The betrayal had been sharp, deliberate. Crystal wanted her to see. She wanted Holly to know that she could take anything Holly had—her boyfriend, her trust, her peace of mind.

Because wasn’t that the truth? Holly had always been too trusting, too soft. Crystal had been the one with ambition, the one who knew how the world worked. People didn’t reward kindness; they rewarded power. And Crystal had power.

She leaned back, sipping her wine, her phone buzzing with messages from the girls she kept close. They weren’t friends, not really. They were orbiters, people who made her look brighter by comparison. Crystal liked it that way. She liked being the center, the one everyone envied.

But Holly’s rejection still stung. Six months, and Holly hadn’t spoken a word to her. No apology, no attempt to patch things up. Holly had simply cut her out, as if Crystal were disposable. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Holly was supposed to fight for her, to admit she needed her. Instead, Holly had walked away, and Crystal hated the emptiness that followed.

And now there was Lee. The soldier. Crystal had seen them together in the coffee shop, the way Holly’s cheeks flushed when he looked at her. It was disgusting, really—Holly pretending she deserved someone like him. Men like Lee didn’t stay. Crystal knew that better than anyone. Holly was setting herself up for heartbreak, and Crystal almost relished the thought of being there when it happened.

Still, a part of her burned. What if Lee did stay? What if Holly found happiness Crystal couldn’t touch? That thought was unbearable. Holly couldn’t win. Not after everything.

Crystal’s smile sharpened as she typed a message to one of her girls, already plotting the next move. Holly thought she was strong now, thought she could stand up to her. But Crystal knew her weaknesses. She knew the cracks in Holly’s armor, the places where doubt still lingered.

She imagined the scene: Holly catching Lee in a moment of weakness, maybe a lingering glance, maybe a conversation Crystal twisted into something more. Holly’s trust would shatter, just like it had before. And Crystal would be there, not to comfort her, but to prove—again—that she was better.

Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she paced her apartment, wine glass in hand. The city lights glittered outside her window, but she barely noticed. Her mind was fixed on Holly. Always Holly.

“Men like him don’t stay,” she whispered to herself. “He’s just like Jon. He’ll leave. And I’ll make sure she sees it.”

The plan was already forming. Holly had always been insecure, always second-guessing herself. It wouldn’t take much to remind her of Jon’s lies, to suggest that Lee was no different. A few well-placed comments, a few subtle digs, and Holly would start to doubt.

But Crystal wasn’t stopping there. No, she wanted to test Lee too. She wanted to see if he could resist her charm. Men rarely did. If she could sway him, even for a moment, Holly would crumble.

Crystal sat at her vanity again, leaning close to the mirror. “You’re not done,” she told her reflection. “She thinks she’s moved on. She thinks she’s stronger. But you know her. You know the cracks.”

She thought back to second grade, to the day Holly had shared her crayons with a new student. Crystal had hated it then—the way Holly’s kindness drew people in. Even as children, Holly had been the one people trusted. Crystal had been the one people feared. And fear, she decided, was better. Fear meant control.

Now, she would control Holly again. She would remind her that men leave, that friends betray, that happiness is temporary. And when Holly’s world fell apart, Crystal would be standing tall, the one who had seen it coming all along.

Her smile sharpened. “Enjoy it while you can, Holly,” she murmured. “Because I’m not finished. Not by a long shot.”

Crystal’s phone buzzed again, another message from one of her girls asking what was new. She smirked, fingers flying across the screen.

“You won’t believe this,” she typed. “Holly’s slumming it with some drafter. The kind of guy who smells like grease and sweat, the kind who’ll never clean up. She’s desperate, really—clinging to anyone who’ll look her way.”

She hit send, watching the message deliver, then immediately followed it with another.

“Spread the word. Holly’s already been burned once by Jon, and now she’s setting herself up for round two. Men like that don’t change. He’ll use her, then toss her aside.”

Crystal leaned back, satisfied. It didn’t matter if the details were twisted—truth was never the point. Perception was. And perception was hers to control.

She imagined the whispers starting at the bakery, trickling through the coffee shop, winding their way into every corner of town. Holly’s name paired with pity, with doubt, with ridicule. Holly’s happiness chipped away before it had a chance to bloom.

Crystal’s smile sharpened as she set her phone down. “Enjoy it while you can, Holly,” she murmured. “Because soon, everyone will see you for what you really are. And I’ll be the one standing taller—again.”

The town lights flickered outside her window, but Crystal didn’t notice. She was already plotting her next move, already savoring the chaos she had unleashed.

Not laughter, not carols, but Crystal’s venom spread through the night—an unwelcome chill in the season of second chances.