Aurora
December 24, 2024
Sometimes, Christmas doesn’t seem as magical as everyone claims it is, and sometimes it isn’t about twinkling lights.
Sometimes… Christmas is the night when your entire world seems to collapse.
Tonight, I was supposed to surprise my boyfriend.
A stupid little red gift bag dangled from my fingers as I climbed the final step to my best friend Clara’s apartment. Inside were the snowflake couple bracelets I had saved up for as a Christmas present. I had planned to show them to Clara first, to scream and laugh about how Sawyer would definitely cry when he saw his.
Out of excitement, I had called her, and while waiting for her to pick up, I spoke to the phone.
“Clara! I’m coming up. Don’t pretend you’re asleep again,” I joked into the phone.
She didn’t answer. I called her three times, and it was the same thing, but I thought nothing of it. Maybe she was in the shower, preparing for the Christmas Eve party, or wrapping gifts. It was Christmas Eve, and people were busy.
But as I stopped in front of her door, my smile slowly faded. The door wasn't fully closed. It hung slightly open, showing the soft crack of warm light spilling into the hallway.
“Clara?” I gently said, pushing the door wider with my fingertips, and the world stopped.
Clara was the first I saw with her hair tousled, her lips swollen, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that wasn't hers. She was laughing breathlessly, one hand tangled in someone’s hair.
Not someone.
It was Sawyer, because the second he appeared behind her with his shirt unbuttoned, belt undone, and lipstick smeared across his throat, something in me died.
They didn’t see me at first, as they were too busy in their little world.
Sawyer’s hands were still on Clara’s waist while she had her fingers hooked around his collar, kissing her passionately.
“Clara?” I couldn't keep it in anymore as my voice cracked without my permission.
They pulled away immediately, like they had been electrocuted, and faced me.
Clara’s face was drained of color as her eyes met mine, while Sawyer’s eyes went wide in panic.
“Aurora?” he breathed.
The gift bag slipped from my hand, hitting the ground with a soft thud, and the bracelets spilled out, rolling across the tiled floor and landing at Sawyer’s feet.
For a moment, no one moved, no one breathed, then Sawyer reached for me like he had a right. “Aurora, baby…”
I stepped back. “Don’t!” I yelled. “Don’t you dare come near me! We’ve been together for five years, and this is what I get on Christmas Eve?”
“Rory,” Clara stammered. “This isn’t—”
“This isn’t what it looks like?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Then tell me, Clara, how many best friends kiss their friend’s boyfriend half-naked on Christmas Eve?” I pointed to both of them.
Sawyer ran a hand through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. “It just happened, Aurora. We didn’t mean for you to find out like—”
SLAP.
My hand connected with his cheek so hard the crack echoed through the hallway. His head snapped to the side, his eyes wide, and immediately his cheek turned red.
“You don’t get to say my name,” I screamed, slamming a hand on his chest. “You don’t get to explain like you didn't do anything wrong!”
Clara stepped forward, crossing her arms defensively. “Rory, calm down. You are overreacting…”
I spun toward her and scoffed. “Overreacting? You are my best friend! How could you do this to me?”
“It just happened, Aurora. We didn’t mean to…” She paused and rubbed her face. “It’s just…”
“Oh, so you tripped and fell onto his mouth?” I shot back and pointed towards her. “Is that it? You suddenly summoned him here with your magic, and he came to be with you?”
Sawyer tried to reach for me again. “Aurora, please, I can fix this—”
“Fix this?” My voice broke into a laugh that sounded more like a sob. “You broke us, Sawyer. Both of you did!”
Sawyer shook his head and tried to touch me, but I slapped his hand away. “Listen, I wanted to tell you, but I didn't have the chance to and… I still love you,” he said softly.
“No!” I yelled, lifting my hand again and pointing a warning finger toward him. “You don't get to say that word to me ever again.” I inhaled deeply, placing my hands on my waist. “Answer me right now. How long has this been going on?”
Clara swallowed, her eyes darting nervously between Sawyer and me. “It’s not serious—”
“Not serious?” I laughed so hard I could feel my insides shatter into pieces. “So what happened, Clara? Is this just a holiday hobby? A little Christmas tradition I wasn’t invited to?”
Sawyer tried to speak yet again, but my hand smacked across his face again, and he staggered backwards, his eyes widened in shock.
“That’s for every time you made me feel guilty for doubting you,” I spat angrily. “And for every lie you fed me with a straight face.”
“Aurora—”
“Don’t say my name, you piece of s**t!” I warned and turned toward Clara. “As for you, my dear best friend, how long have you been stabbing me behind my back?”
Clara lowered her head, unable to say anything.
I scoffed and bent to pick up the bracelets and gift bag from the ground. “We are done forever. And merry Christmas! I hope this season brings both of you nothing but sadness!” I told them, then I turned and ran down the stairs before they could see the tears exploding down my face.
“No!” I yelled when I reached my car and entered. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely shove the key into the ignition slot, and my chest felt so tight that I could scarcely breathe.
All I could think of was how I had seen it all. The way Clara and Sawyer had kissed like they had been doing it for so long. The image replayed in my head over and over again.
My phone suddenly lit up in my coat pocket, and my entire body went cold.
Incoming call: Clara.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” I yelled as I stared at her smiling contact photo as if she wasn’t the same woman who had just shoved a knife in my back.
I ignored the call, but it vibrated again. “Stop calling me!” I grabbed my phone and hit the power button so hard I almost cracked the screen. It went black instantly.
I jammed my thumb on the car’s start button, and the engine roared awake. Then my hand hit my speakers, and “Last Christmas” by Ariana Grande came on. It was as if the world hated me.
Last Christmas, I gave you my heart.
A choking laughter burst out of me. It wasn’t the funny kind; it was the broken kind. “Oh, wonderful,” I said, wiping the tears streaming down my face. “Perfect timing!” I cried as I drove out of the front of Sawyer’s house.
I wiped my tears with the back of my shaking hand as I sped down the road. My chest felt like it was cracking open, piece by piece, and it hurt so much.
Who would have thought that I would get my heart broken on Christmas Eve?
I turned the music louder, hoping that it would drown out the sound of choking sobs, and Ariana’s voice filled the car.
“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart…”
My lips trembled as I responded. “Yeah,” I muttered bitterly. “I gave you EVERYTHING.”
The following line hit me hard.
“…but the very next day, you gave it away…”
That was it. Something inside me snapped as it related to the lyrics.
I hit the steering wheel with the heel of my palm not once but thrice, and on the third time, I winced in pain and yelled out.
“You DID give it away!” I yelled. “To my best friend! On CHRISTMAS EVE!”
Tears streamed down my cheeks faster as I swerved onto the highway, my vision blurring.
The song continued playing on.
“This year, to save me from tears…”
“Too late for that!” I shouted, letting out a half-laugh, half-scream. Then I started singing. It wasn’t beautiful, not even on key, but out of desperation.
“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,” I cried out, pounding the wheel to the beat, “and you gave it to CLARA, you absolute piece of—” My voice broke, dissolving into sobs.
“I loved you,” I whispered. “God, Sawyer, I loved you.” I clenched my hands tighter on the wheel.
The music shifted into the chorus again, and I sang along loudly and angrily. “Last Christmas, I gave you my heart! But the very next day—THE VERY NEXT DAY—you threw it in the trash!”
My throat and eyes burned as I sang out with every pain I felt deep inside me. Everything hurt so badly, but I kept singing, screaming, and hitting the wheel like it could punch the betrayal out of my body.
Then I saw glowing lights ahead, coming from a nearby club, and heaved a deep sigh. “Fine,” I whispered shakily. “If you can break my heart on Christmas Eve, then I can ruin my own life for one night,” I said and drove straight toward the lights.