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Merry Christmas

I plunk myself down on the bed and scream into a pillow. I'm frustrated. Everything has gone tits up.

Finished with yelling, I turn my head to the gifts that I brought upstairs with me after I'd been banished by my mother. I really wanted to give her a hand with cleaning, but she didn't even incline to speak to me anymore. The only thing she did was look at me menacingly.

So here I am, alone, sat in my room on Christmas, spending its last minutes on feeling lonely. All I can do is unpack the presents, have a shower and go to sleep.

Since I'm aware that whatever I was given by Nathan and Will might be shocking, and not in an entirely pleasant way, I decide to start off with the gift from Rayna.

Wrestling with sellotape, I finally win this Herculean fight. An involuntarily smile flickers across my mouth at the sight of an eyeshadow palette that I've coveted for a while now. Then the thought of unpacking the remaining two presents makes my stomach tighten.

I reach out for the gift that Nathan ordered me to open only when I'm alone. Nervous, I bite on my lip and tear off a green wrapping paper. My brows instantly lower in confusion as I find an envelope and something else, packed just as neatly.

My stomach flips in stress. I place my fingers on the envelope and tear it open.

A letter.

My brows knit together. I unfold the piece of paper with my trembling hands. Nathan's beautiful handwritting heaves to my view.

I swallow hard. Another twist of my stomach comes unbidden. I'm nervous.

And then I start reading, letting Nathan's soft voice resound in my head.

Dear Davina,
I just want you to know that writing this letter wasn't easy for me, and at the beginning I felt unsure whether I should write it at all, but I think that this is the only way we can both find some inner peace.
I know you might be wondering why I called you my girl today, which I'm sure that I had done by the time you're reading this, and you probably ended up in my arms, too . . . but this time for the last time.
It's Christmas and I wanted to make one more good memory of us together; a memory that would become a seal to our ending relationship; a pure one, with no anger, no judgement, just us enjoying each other's company, and I hope that's what today is — a good memory.
And you'll find the most beautiful ones in the book I've made for you. I am no good at writing, but I think the illustrations of us, my favourite moments of our relationship that I drew on my tablet and transferred onto those pages, will elicit a smile from you.
But there is also something else that I wish to give you this Christmas, and it's a chance. A chance that I want you to give him. This is the only way you can figure out how you really feel, and the only way for me to gain some time to heal, to hopefully welcome you into my arms when we're both ready again. If we ever are.

Silence. That's what my mind's stalled on - a deafening and agonizing silence. And then it all comes crushing down on me again: the feeling of hopelesness, sadness and loneliness. Everything that was caged and put aside, now made its escape, loosed by Nathan's words.

That's why he called me his girl. That's why he held me in his arms so tightly. Now it all makes perfect sense. This whole time he knew that he was doing it for the last time, and he took the most of it, whilst unaware, I wasted the chances I could have taken to make him laugh, or simply kiss him. He kept it quiet, the way he wanted it to be, and now I feel like screaming; everything inside of me wants to break free in an eardrum-rupturing howl.

And he's not here to hear it.

I inhale unsteadily. Knives of desolation push further into my chest. There is only one thing that can make me feel less horrid, or it might totally ruin me, but this is now solely dependent on what Will's present will turn out to be.

In my current state of sadness I can't check out the book that Nathan has drawn for me. It would shatter my heart to pieces. I leave it unpacked.

I reach for the envelope from Will. I tear it open and unfold a piece of paper that resides inside of it. The realization of what it actually is strikes me.

'Contract termination letter
Miss Emily Ren (Number 479),

We would like to inform you that your obligations to Mr. William Reyman have been terminated with the date of 23rd of December 2020, and you are no longer indebted . . .'

I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. My sight travels to a little note attached to the bottom of the letter.

'I have also paid the costs of removing the app early, so yeah, you can finally delete it. Merry Christmas, Davina. You are officially free. I think this is what you wanted the most?'

I give this note another read. For some reason I can not shake the gnawing thought from my head, the thought that it's yet another goodbye, but this time his.

Will's.
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Thank you for reading!