A Christmas written in blood

Chapter2

THIRD PERSON'S POV

Mrs Ann looked around the sitting room, her eyes scanning every corner. “She is not out of her room yet?” she asked no one but herself.

The food she left out for Aveline was still on the table and covered with the cloche, which was very unusual. By this time, Aveline was usually ready for work and would have eaten.

Disturbed, Mrs Ann looked at the door to Aveline’s room. “Why is she not out until now?” she thought to herself. She moved to the door to check on her, but as she raised her hand to knock, she hesitated.

This was the first time she would be knocking on this door or even entering the room in a very long time. Slowly, her hand came down to her side. “Could she be sad because of the discussion last night?” she thought to herself. The thought dampened her spirit, but she quickly pushed it aside. “If that’s the case, she will be fine soon,” she muttered and walked away.

As she left the house, her heartfelt heavy even though she didn’t want to admit it. But on the other side, Aveline stirred and opened her eyes.

The sun peeked in through the curtains and shone on her face. But instead of hissing as usual, she smiled.

“I didn’t close the curtains properly last night,” she whispered with a smile. Even the one thing she hated couldn’t annoy her this morning.

She got up and opened the curtains, letting the sun into the room. She stood under it and basked in its delight. “Why did I hate this feeling before now?” she muttered. She took a deep breath and looked around her room. “So this is how it looks with the sun shining in. I should do this more often.” She smiled. “It might just be time to stop hiding in the dark.”

She skipped out of her room happily and ate the breakfast her mother had kept for her. And today it felt different; it felt like food instead of responsibility.

Once she was done, she left the house to go prepare herself for her date and her first Réveillon de Noël.

By the time she came back home, it was already evening. She had gone all out, doing everything she usually didn’t do but would admire when others did. She wanted to look breathtaking, and as she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt beautiful.

Her hair fell on her shoulders, the beautiful curls defining her face. Her eyebrows were picked to give a beautiful curve, which made her face even more beautiful. She loved what she saw as she looked into the mirror. She stretched out her fingers and admired the beautiful work that was done.

It felt good to know she had done this for herself, for a night she wanted to believe would matter.

“s**t!” she cursed as her eyes fell on the clock. She quickly undressed and rushed into the bathroom. She took her time to shower, cleaning and washing every spot. She had been with Louis for six months now, but they hadn’t been intimate, and even though she didn’t say it out loud, she hoped that they would end the night on that note.

After she took her bath, she wore pretty matching underwear before bringing out the dress she bought for that moment. As she slipped into it, she didn’t bother to look into the mirror because she was trying to be fast and still needed to do her makeup.

With soft strokes, she did her makeup, making sure to do something extra than what she did on normal days. And as she finished and looked in the mirror, she couldn’t help but smile. The red dress hugged her curves in the right places. She needed no one to tell her that she looked beautiful. She felt it deep within her.

As her eyes fell on the clock again, she realized she had beaten the time by just a few minutes. “Great,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t want to keep him waiting. Men don’t like to be kept waiting.”

She left the room after putting on her shoes and went into the sitting room to wait. She checked her phone every two seconds as she impatiently waited for the time to arrive.

The moment it was a minute past time, she rushed to the door, but there was no sign of Louis. “He is probably on his way,” she thought to herself and went back to her seat.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. One minute became five. Five became ten. She impatiently picked up her phone and unlocked it, then locked it again.

“Calm down,” she muttered to herself. “He said he would come.” Still, the silence pressed on her chest.

After a while, a bold thought came to her mind. She opened the camera and angled it carefully. The lighting was perfect, yet she hesitated.

“Just do it!” she pushed herself and quickly took a picture before she could change her mind. When she looked at it, her heart fluttered. It gave her the morale to do what she wanted to do.

“I look beautiful, and I am waiting for you. Don’t keep a pretty lady waiting,” she typed beneath the photo and then sent it.

The message was delivered instantly. She held her phone in her hands and waited for a reply, but her phone remained silent.

After a few minutes, she refreshed the screen once, then twice, but there was no reply. She told herself he was driving, or maybe the traffic was bad. Maybe he had stopped to get something special.

But then minutes passed, and she grew greatly worried. Her fingers hovered over the screen before she typed another message.

“Are you close?”

As no reply came, her smile slowly faded. She stood up and paced the sitting room, the sound of her heels echoing faintly against the floor. She stopped near the door, listening, hoping to hear footsteps, a car, anything.

Her chest tightened as she looked at the time and saw that an hour had passed. A familiar unease crept in, one she knew too well. She shook her head as if she could physically push the thoughts away. “Do not start,” she whispered. “Not tonight.”

To stay in control, she called him.

It rang once, twice, and a third time before it went to voicemail. Her hand dropped to her side. She stared at the phone, and slowly, she sank back onto the sofa. The excitement she had carried all day began to slip through her fingers.

Another hour passed.

She slipped out of her shoes and curled her toes against the cold floor. Her back slouched. Her hands rested limply in her lap. The woman who had glowed in the mirror earlier felt far away now.

“Why did I think this would be different?” she murmured.

She glanced at the photo she had sent him earlier. For a moment, she considered deleting it, but feeling that would make her appear more shameful than she already felt, she decided not to. Gradually, another hour passed, and another.

Tears were starting to sting in her eyes when her phone buzzed suddenly. Her heart leaped painfully as she grabbed it off the sofa.

“Something came up. A family emergency,” the text read. That was all. No explanation, no apology. Nothing at all.

Her eyes burnt as she read the message again and again, hoping she had missed something. But she had not. She leant back and stared at the ceiling, blinking hard to stop her tears.

“I should have known,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I hoped for too much again.”

The clock ticked on, loud and unforgiving. Outside, the world was celebrating, but Aveline sat alone in her red dress, waiting for a Christmas that would never come.