Page 34 of When the Storm Breaks
It’s Christmas Eve.
I have to break the cycle. I can’t waste another day.
Starting small, I drag myself out of bed, grab yesterday’s shirt off the floor, and shuffle to the kitchen. As the coffee brews, I take in the state of my apartment—dishes piled in the sink, laundry spilling over, wrappers scattered across the counters.
It’s too much to tackle all at once, so I start where I can.
I sip my coffee between bursts of movement—folding blankets, tossing trash, gathering abandoned mugs and glasses from my desk and the coffee table. Each dish hits the sink one by one, rinsed quickly and loaded into the dishwasher before I can overthink it.
It’s not perfect, but it’s better.
By the time I’ve worked my way through the living room and kitchen, I feel lighter. Like I’ve cleared more than just the mess.
But there’s still one last thing to face.
Me.
In the bathroom, I keep my gaze low, unwilling to meet my owneyes in the mirror. My reflection feels like too much right now, so I focus on shedding layers instead—pulling my shirt over my head, stepping out of my underwear.
My hands skim down my sides, the touch almost foreign. On instinct, I wrap my arms around myself and hold. Just for a breath, maybe two.
I don’t know if it’s for safety or comfort. Maybe both.
The water is scalding, but I let it rain over me, scrubbing until I feel clean. Awake.
Alive.
The sadness that’s been clinging to me for days finally begins to lift, piece by piece, like the water is rinsing it away.
When I step out and wrap myself in a towel, exhaustion threatens to drag me straight back to bed. But I fight it.
I’ve spent too long letting everything keep me still.
It’s time to move forward.
It’s time to talk to Tyler.
But as I get dressed and grab my coat and keys, another thought crosses my mind. Tomorrow, I’m supposed to go to Chase and Haiyden’s for Christmas dinner, and I still need to pick up a gift and a bottle of wine.
It’s a practical concern, sure—stores are closing early.
But really, it’s an excuse.
Something easier to focus on before I face the harder thing.
Sitting in my car with my hands on the steering wheel, I run through my options. I could just bring wine, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Not for Chase. He’s been kind in a way that feels genuine and rare, always making space for me without a second thought.
Haiyden, on the other hand, is… complicated. Distant and snarky. Never outright rude, but toeing the line.
I don’t know him well enough to justify buying him a gift.
And honestly? I don’t think he deserves one.
Still, I can’t bring something for Chase and leave Haiyden out. And if Chase has gone out of his way beyond dinner and drinks, showing up empty-handed isn’t an option.
With a long breath, I shift the car into drive and head toward the small gift shop in town, hoping for inspiration.
With most people already tucked away for the holiday, I spot an open parking space right in front of the shop. After turning off the engine and grabbing my keys, I jog through the cold, slipping inside just as the wind picks up.
