COME HOME WITH YOUR MAN
1066 Words
Elena woke to the soft hum of her apartment coming to life.
The lights adjusted automatically, dim warming into brightness. The curtains shifted just enough to let the pale morning light slip in. Somewhere in the walls, the heater clicked on. The quiet presence of her home wrapped around her like a habit she never questioned anymore.
She lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
Christmas.
The word felt heavy. Not sad exactly—just hollow.
“Homegirl,” she said softly, her voice barely louder than the hum around her.
“Yes, Elena.”
“What time is it?”
“Eight forty-three a.m.”
She sighed and sat up, swinging her legs off the bed. The floor was cold against her feet, grounding her. The apartment felt peaceful—but empty. Always empty. Especially on days like this, when other people woke to noise and warmth and family voices overlapping in kitchens.
She padded into the kitchen and made coffee, leaning against the counter as the machine hummed. The smell filled the room, familiar and comforting. She watched the steam rise like a quiet promise.
Her phone buzzed on the table.
She glanced at the screen.
Mom:
Elena, today is Christmas. Come home with your man. Let’s see him. You’ve been hiding him for a long time.
Elena closed her eyes.
Of course.
She let out a short laugh and shook her head. “This woman…”
Her mother never asked lightly. Every sentence carried expectation wrapped in affection. Elena loved her—but loved her from a distance.
She didn’t reply immediately. Instead, her thoughts drifted—naturally—to the night before.
Josh sitting across from her at the small café. The clink of cups. The way he listened more than he spoke. His calm voice, steady and unassuming.
If you need anyone to pretend, I’m here.
She hadn’t even known what she needed until he said it.
Elena picked up her phone and opened his contact. Her fingers hovered for a second before typing.
Good morning. Are you still okay with today?
The reply came moments later.
Yes.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
I’ll send the address.
I’ll be there.
Elena exhaled slowly and stared out the window, watching people pass below bundled in coats, walking with purpose.
“Well,” she murmured to herself, lifting her mug, “guess I’m really doing this.”
---
Josh stood in front of Elena’s parents’ house with his hands in his coat pockets, breath visible in the cold air.
The house wasn’t extravagant, but it was warm—lights glowing behind lace curtains, decorations lining the porch, a wreath hung slightly crooked on the door. Laughter floated faintly through the walls, the sound carrying memories he hadn’t meant to revisit.
It felt… lived in.
Very different from his own place, where silence lingered too long.
He shifted his weight, took a breath, and rang the bell.
The door opened almost immediately.
“Elena—” her mother began, her smile already forming, then stopped mid-sentence.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Then widened.
“…Josh?”
Josh blinked, genuinely surprised. “Good afternoon, ma’am.”
She stared at him for another second, then laughed softly, disbelief and warmth mixing in her voice.
“Josh Bennett?”
Elena froze beside him.
“Yes,” Josh said politely. “That’s me.”
Her mother stepped back, hand flying to her mouth, eyes shining. “Oh my goodness. I knew you looked familiar. You used to come around with Elena after school.”
Elena groaned quietly, covering her face. “Mom…”
Josh glanced at her, amusement flickering across his features. “I guess I made an impression.”
“You did,” her mother said warmly, already stepping aside. “Come in, come in. What a surprise this is.”
They stepped inside, the warmth wrapping around them instantly.
Her father stood up from the couch as they entered, remote still in hand. His eyes landed on Josh—curious, assessing, careful.
He studied him for a long moment.
Then recognition dawned.
“…Josh,” he said slowly. “You used to walk her home.”
Josh nodded respectfully. “Yes, sir.”
Her father smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I remember you. Quiet boy. Always polite.”
Elena stared between them, stunned. “You both remember everything except my birthday.”
Her mother waved her off. “That’s different.”
---
Lunch was nothing like Elena expected.
There was no interrogation. No tense silence. No awkward explanations.
Just food, conversation, laughter.
Josh answered questions calmly—about work, about life, about where he’d been all these years. Elena filled in gaps when needed, occasionally kicking him under the table when he got too honest.
Her parents watched them quietly, exchanging small looks Elena pretended not to notice.
At one point, her mother leaned back in her chair and smiled thoughtfully.
“So,” she said casually, “life really does circle back.”
Elena nearly choked on her drink.
Josh lifted his brows slightly, calm as ever. “It does.”
Elena shot him a look, but he only smiled faintly, like he understood more than he was letting on.
After lunch, coats were gathered and hugs exchanged. At the door, her father lingered with Josh while Elena stepped outside, pretending to examine the decorations.
“Take care of her,” her father said quietly.
Josh met his eyes without hesitation. “I will.”
Elena heard it.
And for a brief second, she forgot it was pretend.
---
Outside, the cold air hit Elena’s face, sharp and bracing.
“Well,” she said, exhaling slowly, “that went better than expected.”
Josh nodded. “Your mom is… sharp.”
“She always is.”
They stood there for a moment, neither rushing to leave, snow crunching faintly under passing footsteps.
Inside, her parents watched from the window—smiling.
Outside, Elena adjusted her coat, suddenly aware of how close Josh was standing.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “You didn’t have to do this.”
Josh looked at her, his expression softer than before. “I wanted to.”
The words settled between them, heavier than she expected.
And for the first time since this arrangement began, Elena wondered if pretending could really stay pretend.
- Writer
