NO REGRETS
1265 Words
Julia woke up to the loud giggling and playful screams of the kids echoing from the living room. She stretched, letting her stiff muscles loosen, then walked to the window. The sun was already dipping toward the horizon.
Did I really sleep all day? she wondered.
When she opened her door, she froze. A large shopping bag sat neatly in front of it. She picked it up, brought it inside, and peeked in. Clothes. New ones. And on top, a small handwritten card:
I picked up a few things for you. Didn’t know your size, though. Hope they fit.
Breakfast is in the microwave. —Alex.
A surprised laugh escaped her as she read it. One by one, she lifted the clothes out, neatly arranging them in the wardrobe. Afterward, she grabbed a pair of shorts and a singlet, showered, dressed, and stepped into the hallway.
The living room was alive.
“Jingle Bells” blared loudly as the girls ran around the tree wearing Christmas hats, dancing and singing off-key. Julia watched quietly, unable to hide a small smile. Alex was nowhere in sight, so she went to the kitchen, pulled out the warmed breakfast, and ate silently while watching the chaos unfold.
“You’re awake,” Alex said as he came in through the back door, shaking off the cold.
“Yeah. Didn’t know I slept that long.”
“It’s fine. Your body needed it after the week you’ve had,” he said, washing his hands at the sink. Then he headed to the living room and lowered the volume. “Girls, at this point, I might just sell both of you to Santa so you can enjoy Christmas with him!”
“Can you do that?” Anna asked, launching herself into his arms.
“Tell Santa I want to be his sidekick!”
“Me too!” Evelyn added, holding up her Santa plush. “I wanna be one of his reindeer!”
“Oh gosh…” Alex groaned as they ran circles around him.
Julia chuckled, and he gave her a helpless smile in return.
After the girls finally went to their rooms, worn out from excitement, Alex brewed two cups of hot coffee and handed her one.
“Thanks,” she murmured, blowing on the steam.
“Trust me, my house isn’t always this noisy. It’s just the season.”
“I know. My siblings act the same way around Christmas,” she said with a nostalgic smile.
Alex leaned against the counter. “Actually… I was thinking maybe tomorrow we could go get you a new phone. So you can reach your people, let them know you’re okay. I’m sure they’re worried.”
Julia scoffed lightly. “I highly doubt that. They’re probably eating chicken casserole and celebrating that I left the house. The only person who’ll be losing her mind right now is Claire, my best friend. She’s probably reported me missing already.”
“Why wouldn’t your parents be worried?”
She looked down at her cup, tracing its rim with her finger. “Let’s just say… I’m the bad egg at home.” She gave an awkward laugh. “My mom wanted me to study nursing. I refused. I wanted to be an artist. Ever since then—four years now—there’s been nothing but nagging, lectures, disapproval. I’m sure she’s relieved I’m gone.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex said softly. “Parents can be unbelievable. Mine wanted me to study engineering, but it wasn’t my thing. I chose being a gym instructor instead. They hated it at first… but now? No regrets. If it’s something you love, go for it.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“You love painting?” he asked.
“Yeah. Art, sculpting, drawing—everything.”
“Wow. I can’t draw to save my life,” he chuckled. “But at least I can try.”
He sipped his coffee. “Let me guess—you were running off to New York to start a new life with your boyfriend?”
“Nope,” she said immediately. “I was running off to start life alone. Build myself first. Love comes after.”
“That’s fair,” he nodded.
“Mind if I ask you something?” she said.
“Go ahead.”
“What about their mother?”
Alex paused. “She died of cancer two years ago.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m over it now. And I’m grateful the girls are doing better. Last year was… hard.”
He finished his coffee. “You?”
“Almost done,” she said, taking the last sip.
“You’ve never thought of getting married again?” Julia asked. “You’re young. And the kids need motherly love. Even if you try to fill both roles, the presence of a woman still makes a difference.”
“I know,” he admitted. “But I’m scared to give love a chance again. Losing my wife broke me. I got really sick afterward. I’m not sure anyone will love my kids the way I do—or treat them like their own. For now, I just want to focus on raising them. Love can wait.”
“Yeah… you’re right,” Julia murmured, standing to leave. “Goodnight, Miss Blonde.”
“Julia,” she corrected.
“Well, I think I’m used to calling you that,” he said with a grin, hands in his pockets.
“Whichever one, then. Um… Alex?”
“Yes?” he turned.
“Thank you for the clothes,” she said, looking down at her outfit.
“I’m glad you like them,” he replied, smiling softly.
“I do. Goodnight.”
She walked to her room. He stood there for a moment, still smiling, then headed upstairs. Anna’s lights were still on.
“Hey, pretty. Can’t sleep?” he asked gently.
“No…” Anna said, eyes watery. “The Nutcracker ballet is next week. I haven’t practiced enough. I really want to be selected. I’m so nervous…”
“It’s okay, honey,” he whispered, pulling her close. “I promise—we’ll practice all day tomorrow.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Anna murmured as she snuggled into his chest. Within moments, her breathing softened into sleep. Alex gently lowered her onto the mattress, tucked the blankets around her like a fragile gift, turned off the light, and quietly closed the door.
He peeked into Eve's room next—she was already fast asleep, curled up with her stuffed reindeer. Relief eased across his face as he stepped back and made his way to his own room. A warm shower washed the day off him, and the moment he lay down, exhaustion dragged him under. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
Across the hall, Julia lay wide awake.
Her room was dim except for the soft glow of the nightstand lamp. The silence pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. She thought about Claire—her panic, her worry, the frantic calls that would go unanswered.
“Poor Claire…” she whispered, voice trembling.
Tears pricked her eyes, then spilled freely. She curled into herself, clutching the blanket as quiet sobs shook through her. There was nothing she could do—not tonight, not without a phone, not without a way to reach home.
All she could do was close her eyes and try to breathe through the ache. Eventually, sleep found her, even as warm tears continued to slip down her cheeks.
- Writer
