The Christmas lights glimmered softly as I adjusted the silver star perched atop our tree for what felt like the hundredth time. I wanted everything to be perfect—because that’s the kind of mother and wife I was.
Stepping back to admire my handiwork, I almost stumbled over the train set Michael had eagerly set up the previous weekend. It had been one of those rare moments where he was fully present with the family, a fleeting glimpse of the man I fell in love with.
“Mommy, mommy! Look at me spin!” Daisy twirled in her glittery princess dress, her golden curls bouncing with each whirl.
She was pure magic, my little girl. The sequins on her dress reflected the Christmas lights, scattering tiny rainbows across the walls.
“Wow, sweetheart! You’re the most beautiful princess I’ve ever seen,” I said, catching her as she spun too fast and nearly toppled over. “Maybe even prettier than Cinderella!”
“Does Cinderella have a sword?” Daisy asked, her gaze fixed enviously on her brother’s plastic cutlass.
“Arrr, matey!” Max roared, charging through the living room in full pirate mode. His plastic sword waved high, and the eye patch I’d painstakingly painted on earlier now sat slightly askew. “Santa’s treasures are all mine!”
I laughed, catching him mid-charge and pressing a kiss to his messy hair. “Careful, Captain Max! Let’s not knock over the tree before Daddy gets home.”
“When’s Daddy coming?” Max’s bottom lip trembled slightly as he looked up at me with wide eyes.
“Very soon, sweetheart,” I assured him, glancing at the clock again and ignoring the now-familiar pang of disappointment. Lately, Michael’s long hours and countless excuses had become the norm. But tonight? Tonight had to be different—it was Christmas Eve.
As if on cue, the front door opened with a gust of chilly air, and in walked Michael. He looked sharp in his work clothes, but his expression was distracted, his eyes flitting over the room without really seeing it.
“Daddy!” The kids launched themselves at him, arms wide, like tiny missiles.
“Hey, munchkins!” He hugged them briefly before pecking me on the cheek—a quick, obligatory gesture. “Everything looks great, honey. Can you press my black suit and find a white shirt for me? I need them ready in ten minutes.”
I froze, confused. “Your suit? Are we dressing up for Christmas Eve dinner now?”
Michael chuckled absently, already heading upstairs. “Not exactly. The office party is staff-only, but it shouldn’t run too late. Don’t wait up, okay?”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. The turkey timer beeped in the background, a grim countdown to my growing realization. “What? But… it’s Christmas Eve, Michael. The dinner, the kids…”
He waved off my protests. “We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow. Save me some leftovers.”
“But, Daddy!” Daisy’s voice cracked, her sparkly crown slipping to one side. “You promised to read us ‘The Night Before Christmas’!”
“Tomorrow, princess,” he said over his shoulder before the door shut behind him.
I stood frozen, staring at the door while Max clung to my leg. “Is Daddy mad at us?” he asked, his voice small and trembling.
“No, baby,” I said, crouching to hold him close. “Daddy just…” My phone buzzed, cutting me off. Melissa’s name lit up the screen.
“Lena!” her cheerful voice burst through the line. “What are you wearing tonight? I can’t decide between my red dress or green one.”
My heart dropped. “Wearing tonight? For what?”
“For the party, of course! Everyone’s bringing their spouses—oh God, did Michael not—”
I didn’t let her finish. My stomach churned as I hung up, pieces clicking into place.
“Mommy?” Daisy tugged at my sweater. “Why are you mad?”
I forced a smile that felt like it might shatter. “Mad? Oh, no, sweetie. In fact, we’re going on an adventure.”
“Really?” Max perked up. “Like pirates?”
“Exactly like pirates.” Upstairs, I yanked open the safe with trembling hands. Inside was our emergency stash: cash, passports, and Michael’s prized cufflinks. Into my bag they went.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at Michael’s office building. The windows glowed with festive lights, and music thumped faintly from inside. Clutching the kids’ sticky hands, I walked in, past glittering decorations and merry chatter, until I spotted him. Michael was laughing, his arm casually draped around a woman in a tight red dress.
Gripping the microphone at the DJ’s stand, I tapped it once. The feedback silenced the room. “Merry Christmas, everyone! I’m Lena, Michael’s wife.” My voice rang clear and calm, belying the storm inside.
“I just wanted to introduce myself since I wasn’t invited to this lovely party.” Gasps rippled through the room. Michael’s face turned ashen. The woman in red shrank back.
“Our kids and I were expecting a cozy family Christmas at home,” I continued. “But I suppose Michael had other plans. Just wanted to say Merry Christmas to you all.”
Michael stammered as he tried to save face, turning to his boss. “She’s confused. It’s been a stressful holiday…”
I wasn’t staying to hear the rest. Taking my children’s hands, I walked out with my head held high.
The pawn shop didn’t ask questions when I handed over the cufflinks and watches. The cash would be enough for three one-way tickets to somewhere warm. At the airport, Daisy’s eyes sparkled as I told her about sunny beaches and blue waves.
“Are we going to see Santa?” she asked.
“Even better, baby,” I said, buckling her in. “We’re going to find our own Christmas magic.”
A week later, Michael met us at the airport, looking gaunt and regretful. “Lena, please. I’m sorry. I’ll fix everything. Please come home.”
I studied his face, searching for the man I used to know. “We’ll see, Michael,” I said, my voice steady. “But I’m thinking about what’s best for the kids and me now.”
As I walked out into the crisp December air, holding my children’s hands, I felt lighter. Christmas wasn’t about perfection—it was about finding the strength to reclaim joy. And for the first time in years, I could breathe.
