The Christmas Debacle

My flight to Hokkaido for Christmas was cancelled. I dragged my suitcase back home, defeated.

The moment I opened the door, I saw it – candlelight dinner for two on the table, and clothes scattered like fallen leaves across the floor.

This wasn't the first time I'd walked in on Mark and his little secretary doing this. I'd honestly lost count.

The sounds of labored breathing coming from the bedroom were like a fingernail on a chalkboard.

But, unlike the old me, I didn't scream or cry. I just sat down on the living room couch and waited for the ridiculous scene to play itself out.

1

The noise from the bedroom abruptly stopped, like a record player with the needle pulled off.

I sat there, calm, watching Mark stroll out of the bedroom, bare-chested, wearing only a pair of tight briefs. He started gathering the clothes from the floor.

The red marks on his back were a roadmap of their little adventure – undeniable, intimate, like whispers in the silent room.

Ten seconds later, his personal secretary, Amber, walked out.

She was completely naked, beaming, and threw her arms around Mark’s waist.

Her face was glowing, and she pressed her cheek against his back, her voice dripping with sweetness, “Oh, Mark, thank goodness I have you...”

Mark took her hand and turned to hold her close, his tone all soft and teasing, “Whatever makes you happy, babe.”

Amber leaned in for a kiss, but suddenly noticed me on the couch.

Her face went pale and she scrambled for her clothes, hiding behind Mark, like a startled fawn.

Mark glanced my way, a flicker of something complex in his eyes. Then, in a flat voice that brooked no argument, he said to Amber:

“Go back in the bedroom, don’t worry, I'll take care of this."

Amber pouted, her lip trembling like she wanted to say something, but in the end, she just nodded and did as she was told.

Mark added, “And close the door behind you.”

2

After Amber closed the bedroom door, Mark finally turned to face me, his gaze locking on mine.

He glanced at the suitcase by the door, pretending to be nonchalant, “So, you didn’t take off, huh?”

I replied evenly, “My flight to Hokkaido got cancelled.”

“Oh.”

Mark ran a hand over his forehead, then sat down next to me. The couch dipped under his weight.

He closed his eyes, and said quietly, “I didn’t expect you back so soon. I thought you'd be in Hokkaido already.”

“Amber, she’s a poor girl from the sticks, and she’s never had a real Christmas before. You were gone, off skiing with the girls, so I brought her back to celebrate with me.”

“Don’t be mad, okay? I promise… I won’t bring her here next time.”

I looked at Mark, but just a few days ago when I’d invited him to celebrate Christmas, he'd been a totally different person.

He’d been all cold, and grouchy: “Why are you so obsessed with Christmas? It’s just another commercial holiday. Why can’t we just celebrate the holidays that have meaning to us?"

His words had sucked the joy right out of me, and I'd quietly cancel...