Page 1 of Holiday Situationship

CHAPTER 1

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Sam

I lie awake, staring at the ceiling as the pale light of dawn seeps through the curtains. I close my heavy lids, hoping for sleep to claim, but my mind is restless, unable to settle after a night of tossing and turning. I quietly reach for my phone on the nightstand, trying not to disturb the silence. The screen flickers to life, and I confirm the time with tired, scratchy eyes.

Chastity, my girlfriend of four months, stirs beside me. She turns and drapes her hand over my chest. My shoulders tense and I hold my breath waiting for her to settle back into a deep sleep.

By anyone's standards, Chastity's supermodel beautiful—leggy, tall, with striking blonde hair that falls perfectly when she’s awake. But in the early morning, her hair’s a tangled mess, with strands sticking out in different directions. I’d find her disheveled appearance endearing and down-to-earth but she’s anything but that. Chastity’s too self-absorbed with her appearance to step into public without every strand of hair in place, her makeup flawless, and her outfit immaculate.

Chastity snuffles lightly, something else I’d consider cute if she weren’t so belligerent about it. She refuses to believe she snores even the tiniest bit. Teasing her in a playful manner about it isn’t worth the headache. She shifts her head and snuffles again, deeper this time. I clasp her wrist between my forefinger and thumb, lifting her hand gently off my chest, then slowly ease out of bed.

I clutch my phone and stare at the picture of the two of us from a party she dragged me to a few months ago. It was a who’s who event for those who love to be seen. I’ve never heard so much name-dropping in my life. Chastity insisted the photo be our relationship-official social media picture, but it’s more of a snapshot of all the things that are wrong with us. On paper, we’re the perfect match. In real life, our relationship is rocky and unstable.

I pad downstairs to the kitchen for a cup of coffee to clear my head. I grab my favorite mug from the cabinet–the one my best friend, Annie, gifted to me when I landed my first job as a software developer seven years ago. It reads, “You’re my missing semicolon.” When she graduated with her bachelor’s degree, I in turn gifted her a coffee mug that read, “You’re the SEO to my HTML.” Annie gets nerdy me. It’s why we’ve been best friends since we were kids.

If it weren’t so early, I’d call her. She always knows what to say to help me unravel what’s bothering me. But it isn’t fair to unload the fight with Chastity on her—especially since it revolved around our friendship. Chastity’s been jealous of Annie since the day she met her. I’ve done my best to accommodate her by spending less time with Annie, but I know in my gut that Chastity won’t be happy unless I cut Annie out of my life completely. But I can’t do that. Not with the history we’ve had.

I pocket the phone and pour my coffee, then slip outside to the deck for a breath of fresh air. My condo faces a wooded area where white-tailed deer forage for food and great horned owls perch quietly in the trees. The bare branches of deciduous trees stretch out like intricate lacework against the pale sky, each twig delicately coated with a layer of powdery snow. Nearby, the evergreen and fir trees stand majestically, their branches topped with a soft blanket of snow, resembling perfectly flocked Christmas trees–Annie’s favorite holiday.

Annie again. No matter where my thoughts start, they always circle back to her. I shake my head, knowing I have no business thinking about her with Chastity asleep in the other room. Blowing the steam from my coffee, I take a sip, trying to push those thoughts aside.

The deck door slides open behind me. I turn to find Chastity standing in the doorway with her face scrunched like a mad baby. She places her hands on her hips, clearly annoyed. Her full, pouty lips twist into a frown. Even in anger, her facial features are striking, with a model's symmetry and eyes that any sane man would get lost in. She's beautiful in a way that's easy to appreciate, yet something's missing—a spark, a spontaneity that makes me feel alive. As much as I care about Chastity, it's not the same effortless connection and history I have with Annie. I shake off the thought, feeling a twinge of guilt, and snap back to the present.

“Hey sleepyhead.” The words are barely out of my mouth, and I already sense I’ve screwed something up.

“Sleepyhead. Am I not pretty enough for you?” Her eyes land on my coffee mug, and she shoots me an accusatory look. “Or do you think I’m lazy because I slept later than you?”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” I say quickly, raising my hands in surrender. I step closer to her, softening my tone. “You look great, Chastity.”

I scramble to find the right words, hoping to diffuse the situation before it escalates. I offer a reassuring smile, hoping it conveys sincerity. “I know you work hard and deserve a little extra rest. I'm sorry if what I said came out wrong.”

I reach for her hand, hoping the gesture will reassure her. “Let’s just enjoy the morning, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Chastity says, her lips forming a perfect pout. She crosses her arms and shifts her weight to one hip, her foot tapping impatiently on the deck.

I blink, confused by her accusation. My mind races, desperately trying to remember what I might have forgotten, but I draw a blank. My heart sinks as I realize I have no clue what she's talking about.

“What did I forget?” I ask cautiously, trying to keep my voice calm despite the unease gurgling in my gut. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s wrong, Sam,” she whimpers, her voice tinged with hurt. “It’s obvious you don’t care about me, or you would have remembered it’s my birthday. I bet you never forget her birthday.”

Crap. Chastity’s birthday. How could I have forgotten? My stomach twists with guilt. I added her birthday to my calendar, didn’t I? I must have gotten sidetracked, caught up with work.

“I woke up, and you were gone,” she continues, her eyes fiery with anger as she eyes the coffee mug fisted in my hand. “I smelled coffee and thought you were making me breakfast in bed. I waited, but you didn’t even bother bringing me a lousy cup of coffee.”

My shoulders slump as I absorb the weight of her disappointment. I step closer, trying to bridge the gap between us. “Chastity, I’m really sorry. I messed up. Let me make it up to you. I’ll whip up breakfast right now.”

My mind whirls with regret and frustration. How could I be so careless? A good boyfriend would have remembered. But she’s right about Annie, I never forget her birthday. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, banishing Annie from my thoughts.

“Please, I want to make today special for you.” I reach for her, but she rebuffs me.

Her expression hardens as she takes a step back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Her eyes narrow, and tension radiates off her in waves.

“I'm done, Sam,” she says, her voice flat and final. She stiffens like she's building a wall between us, one I can't scale, nor do I want to.

“This relationship is over.” She turns on her heel abruptly, heading back inside the condo without looking back. Just as she reaches the door, she stops and throws a glance over her shoulder, her gaze piercing and expectant.

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