Eight
1311 Words
Chapter Eight
I bit my lip slowly, wondering if cookies and chocolate would soften him. Max had been avoiding me for days, slipping out when I came in, returning only after I was asleep. The ice cream he bought me lingered in my memory — I enjoyed it. He was always so sweet, occasionally buying my favorite flavors. I missed the eye rolls he usually gave me. I missed him. Which was strange, because we lived in the same house.
The Christmas spirit outside was loud and cheerful. The streets were alive with carols, laughter, and the scent of roasted chestnuts drifting from vendors.
I wasn’t overthinking it. He had deliberately avoided me. Three days. No questions about my evening with Chase. No warmth. No teasing remarks. Just silence.
I held a goofy Christmas card in my hand, its glittery letters spelling ‘Merry Christmas’. I picked up another, then an anti‑stress ice cream tub from the fridge. Leaving the store with my bag, I thought of how these were distractions.
Tonight, before the party, I would have my answer.
His door was closed, as it had been all morning. I hesitated, the leather bag trembling slightly in my hand. Should I knock? Should I wait? Respecting his privacy felt safer, but the unhappiness I felt demanded confrontation.
I knocked once, gently. No answer.
I knocked again, firmer.
The door opened a crack. Max stood there, hair tousled, eyes shadowed. He looked at me as though I had interrupted something he didn’t want to share.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Why?”
He leaned against the frame, arms crossed. “I’ve just had things on my mind.”
“That’s not true.” My words came sharper than I intended. “You don’t ask about my day anymore. You don’t even look at me. You disappear the moment I walk in. What did I do?”
His jaw tightened. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Then what is it?” I pressed, my chest tightening. “Talk to me, Max.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing, Lisa…”
“Nothing?” I frowned. “Don’t give me that crap.”
His eyes flickered to my feet. I was wearing huge fluffy slippers. Taking me in, a hint of a smile threatened to show before his eyes settled on mine. “How did it go with Chase?”
The name hung between us like a shadow.
“You don’t trust him,” I said quietly.
“Not that. The one‑time thing,” Max replied, his voice firm.
“I—”
Cutting me off, he continued, “He’s not the kind of man who gives without expecting something in return. I’ve seen men like him before. They take, they consume, and when they’re done, they leave wreckage behind.”
I swallowed hard. “You think I can’t handle myself?”
“I think you’re too kind,” he said, softer now. “Too trusting. And I don’t want to see you hurt because of it.”
I stepped closer, my voice trembling. “So you avoid me? You shut me out? That’s your solution?”
His gaze dropped to my chest. I became aware of my light, revealing clothing. Then his eyes lifted again. “I decided to let you do it your way, I didn’t know what else to do,” he continued.
“Max…” My voice broke. “I miss you. I miss us. You’re supposed to be here watching my dramas and movies with me, not hiding in your room.”
He looked away. “I’m not hiding. I’m here. Just… a little occupied.”
Silence stretched between us. The muffled sound of carols drifted from the street outside, mocking the tension in the room.
He exhaled, long and heavy. “I care about you, Lisa. That’s all you need to know.”
“How?” I demanded. “Because right now, it feels like you’re punishing me.”
A look of hurt flashed across his face, and I immediately wanted to take back my words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just don’t like when you neglect me.”
“I got you cookies and chocolates,” I added.
He looked at my hands like he wasn’t certain whether to accept them or not. I pushed them toward him, further widening his dark room in the process.
I could see his system was on, clearly he had been working. I swallowed whatever I had left to say.
………….
Clutching my small gift bag, I stepped out of the cab. The house glowed from the street, strings of golden fairy lights draped across the porch, a wreath of pine and red ribbon hanging proudly on the door. Laughter spilled out as the door opened, my colleague Clara waving me in.
Clara had always had a bubbly personality ever since I joined as an intern. She was a senior lawyer, but always made herself accessible. This was my first visit to her place; I didn’t know much about her outside work.
“Lisa! You made it!” Clara’s voice was bright, cheeks flushed from excitement. She pulled me into a hug, the scent of cinnamon and mulled wine clinging to her. “Come in, come in, everyone’s here already.”
Inside, warmth enveloped me. The living room was alive with chatter, the hum of Christmas carols playing. I already felt like I had heard enough of the songs, having listened to them several times today. Forcing a smile, I smoothed my dress as I stepped further inside.
The house was transformed into a festive wonderland. A tall Christmas tree stood in the corner, dressed in silver and red ornaments, its star glowing at the top. Stockings hung neatly across the fireplace, each embroidered with names. Candles flickered on side tables, their soft light bouncing off garlands of holly and pine. Platters of cookies, chocolates, honey-glazed cashews, and candied pecans lined the dining table, while glasses of wine and punch sparkled under the chandelier.
Clara had gone all out. I felt like I was twinning with Stefan until I noticed other colleagues in green. I had coincidentally been on theme — the color theme I had totally forgotten about. I was wearing a deep emerald green velvet dress, silver jewelry, simple but elegant, paired with black heels.
“Lisa, you look stunning!” someone called, handing me a glass of punch.
“Glad you could make it,” another chimed in, pulling me into a quick hug.
I smiled, exchanged greetings, accepted compliments. The punch was sweet.
I quickly handed Stefan the gift bag containing the Christmas card and mug. His eyes widened in surprise before he smiled in appreciation.
“Thanks, Lisa.”
Two kids ran past me. Trying to avoid them, I nearly spilled my punch on Mrs. Debrowsky, who was wearing a red dress.
“Sorry,” I said quickly.
“Kids these days, ever so energetic,” she chuckled.
“That’s Seth and Sarah. My babies,” Clara said with a smile.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were…” I couldn’t finish, uncertain.
She smiled warmly. “Yes, I have kids with my boyfriend.”
I nodded in understanding. “They are so adorable. The cutest twins I’ve seen.”
“You’re too kind,” Clara laughed.
Seth, in his tux, sang beautifully while his twin sister Sarah, seated in her lovely dress, played the piano. The kids were so talented at five years. The warmth of their performance drew me in, like a reminder that this was a season of love, to let go and live again. I didn’t notice the tears that streamed down my cheeks.
Everyone cheered them on.
- Writer
