Page 31 of When the Storm Breaks
“Haiyden, what about you?” Chase asks, shifting his attention. “Are you sticking around for Christmas or going home to see your parents?”
“Around,” Haiyden replies curtly, voice clipped. There’s something in his answer, the single word, that makes it clear this isn’t a topic he wants to discuss.
But Chase doesn’t take the hint. “What are they up to?”
“Why? You planning on sending a gift?” He exhales, slow and tight. “I don’t know, Chase. And I really don’t care.”
Chase doesn’t seem offended, but he doesn’t press either. He just shifts his attention back to me, tone light again.
“What about you, Calla?”
I blink, momentarily thrown. In the haze of the last few weeks, I haven’t thought about the holiday at all. Visiting my parents is out of the question. And suddenly, a quiet realization settles over me. I’m spending Christmas alone this year.
“I’ll be here,” I say, my voice uncertain.
“Yeah, but do you have plans?” Chase presses, genuinely curious.
I shrug. It’s meant to be casual, but it doesn’t quite hide the sadness creeping in.
“Sitting at home, I guess. I don’t really do holidays.”
Chase narrows his eyes, confusion flickering across his face. “No way,” he says after a beat, his voice light but puzzled. “I saw you at the party. You looked like you were having a good time.”
Before I can respond, Haiyden shifts in his chair, dragging his boots across the floor.
Loud. Deliberate.
Maybe I’m not the only one still stuck in that room.
The room falls silent for only a moment, but I feel it. I can see it in the way his jaw tightens that Haiyden feels it too.
Chase, ever the optimist, leans forward, eyes bouncing between us.
“I’m leaving the day after Christmas for a ski trip with my family,” he finally says.
I raise an eyebrow, not sure where he’s going with this.
“I love Christmas,” he adds, like it’s not the most obvious thing in the world. “And I’d really like to celebrate before I go. So here’s the deal.”
He gestures toward me with an open hand.
“Haiyden and I have been half-assing Christmas celebrations since college.” He smiles. “But they’re better now. We live down the street, and I’m guessing you’re not far. Come over for Christmas Day.”
Haiyden’s jaw drops. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. The look on his face says it all.
Chase glances between us again, clearly catching the apprehension but powering through anyway. “It’ll be low-key,” he says, casual but sincere. “Music, dinner, a few drinks—nothing crazy.”
Haiyden crosses his arms, gripping his biceps so hard his knuckles go white. The sight sends a surge of something bitter through me.
I stand up, needing space, and take a few steps away from the table. I walk toward the Christmas tree we re-decorated a few days ago and brush my fingers along one of the ornaments.
A rush of imagined memories flows through me—what it might’ve looked like if Jules were still here. Us celebrating, decorating, laughingthe way I wish we still could.
The joy in them feels like a cruel joke against the emptiness I carry now.
When I look back at Haiyden, it’s written all over his face. The idea of me stepping foot in their apartment makes his skin crawl.
“I don’t want to impose—” I start, but Chase cuts in.
