The New Year's Disaster

I was reheating the damn dinner for the seventh time when Jake finally walked through the door.

“You’re… “ I started, a smile frozen on my face. But when I saw the girl behind him, the smile instantly evaporated.

Jake didn’t even glance my way. He was already bent over, rooting around in the shoe cabinet for house slippers for Tiffany. “Quick, take off your coat, you’re soaked,” he was saying. “Don’t want you catching a cold. You’re already so delicate.”

I rubbed the spot on my hand where I'd burned myself making the dumplings this afternoon. Yeah, it still stung.

I’d heard of Tiffany. She popped up in Jake’s call logs, sat right there at the top of his text message list and was a VIP on all his social media. When I’d called him earlier, he’d said “later." I'd foolishly hoped he was actually working late. Turns out, he’d been picking up Tiffany to bring her here for New Year.

Jake, like he just noticed I existed, threw out a quick explanation. “Tiffany doesn’t have any family here this year, her parents went to Miami and couldn’t get a flight back.”

My voice wobbled, “So, you brought her here? For the holiday? Don’t you think that’s just a little… inappropriate?”

He scowled. “She works for me, what’s the big deal?”

Normally, I'd be throwing a fit, demanding Jake apologize and beg for forgiveness. But I just didn’t have the energy.

“Either she goes, or I do,” I said, pointing at Tiffany.

Jake's eyebrows practically touched his hairline. “Can’t you just be a little gracious? Cut me some slack, she's a colleague!"

"Fine. I'm out," I retorted, terrified my eyes were about to leak.

As the door slammed shut behind me, I heard Tiffany’s sugary sweet voice asking, “Jake, what’s going on? Does she not like me?”

And Jake? “It’s nothing. Let's eat.”

**2.**

Once outside, the adrenaline faded and reality hit like a cold splash of water. I was in my slippers, with no coat, shivering like a Chihuahua.

Luckily, I’m not broke. After scrolling through Booking.com, and finding every nearby hotel full, I snagged a room, called an Uber, and huddled by the curb.

The sky was exploding with fireworks, and I felt like a stray. I just sat there, crying.

Jake didn't call. My mom did: “Hey, honey! Did you have a good New Year’s dinner? Happy New Year! Me and your dad are watching the ball drop.”

It was New Year’s Day, the first day of the New Year, so I didn’t want to dump my crap on her. “Happy New Year, Mom,” I mumbled, trying to sound normal. “I’ll come over tomorrow for the traditional visit.”

“Honey, you sound a little down, you alright? This weather's nuts, make sure to dress warm." My mom always knew when something was off.

“I will.”

After hanging up, my Uber finally pulled up. First thing at the hotel, I hopped in the shower, and then buried myself in the duvet with my phone.

I mindlessly scrolled, stumbling upon a post with a dinner layout identical to mine. "Small world," I thought, about to comment, until I swiped to the sec...