Page 1 of Welcome to the Friendzone

Christmas Tragedy

THEN

December 24th, 2018

“Frank?” Marta Gómez’s voice echoed through the two-story house on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. She and her husband Frank had only moved in a few months ago, after house hunting for almost a year. As soon as Frank had parked the car on the driveway and Marta’s eyes saw the dark wooden house with the white window frames and the old but beautiful white door with the round muntin window in it, she was in love.

“Yes, Baby?” Frank’s calm voice came from the bathroom on the second floor.

He’d just returned from a run and was about to hop in the shower when Marta called for him. She loved the tenderness and tranquility of his voice. No matter how stressful life had been, he was there to calm her down, a characteristic that helped him greatly as a governmental lawyer.

“I’ll drive to the supermarket real quick. We’re out of butter and I wanted to bake some Christmas cookies for tomorrow,” she said while jumping on one foot to get her other into her sneaker.

Her keychain danced along her chest as she held the end of it secured between her teeth.

“Okay, drive carefully! Remember, you’re 70% responsible for the Peach.” She could hear her husband chuckle before the sound of the shower was the only sound coming out of the bathroom.

The Peach.

Marta was 14 weeks pregnant, which meant the baby was the size of a peach right now. Because of her job as a CIA Agent in the drug trafficking task force, they’d needed to tell her boss and colleagues as soon as they’d found out, getting her out of immediate danger for the growing fetus inside of her.

Frank had been overprotective from the day they’d found out he was going to be a dad. They hadn’t tried for a baby, the Peach a welcomed accident, but as soon as he realized that he wasn’t able to do much more than bring Marta some comfort in the vulnerable first trimester he always joked that he was only 30% responsible for their child’s safety, while Marta was taking on the rest. They hadn’t told their families yet because they’d wanted to wait until they’d reached that magical 12 weeks.

At Christmas dinner the next day they were finally going to tell Frank’s family the news of their growing family. That’s why Marta wanted to bake cookies in the shape of baby onesies. She closed the freshly painted white door behind her, stepped towards her driveway, and into their car. The entire drive she bellowed the Christmas songs on the radio from the depths of her lungs, really feeling the vibe of this year’s festivities.

It was the last Christmas she and Frank would spend alone.

This realization hit her as soon as she exited her car in the huge supermarket parking lot. It was decorated beautifully, full of sparkling lights, Christmas trees, and oversized candy canes. Instead of heading directly towards the ingredients she needed, she got distracted by the aisle that contained baby things. With tears brimming in her eyes and one hand covering her stomach as if she wanted to protect the Peach with her bare hand, she looked left and right until a beige onesie drew her attention. It had a fluffy teddy bear on the front and “Daddy’s favorite teddy” printed right underneath it. Marta needed to swallow a few times to prevent the tears from falling. She grabbed the onesie and put it in her basket, sure that Frank would love it.

She took her time in the supermarket, wandering around the aisles without an actual goal, so it took her almost 40 minutes until she got everything she needed for the cookies. She made a quick check of her phone to see if Frank had texted her in case they needed anything additional, but no message was seen.

While waiting in line to pay for the stuff she had in her basket, she gently caressed her belly and mumbled to the child inside of it.

“Can’t wait to show your daddy this super cute onesie. He’ll freak out.”

With an indestructible smile on her face, she entered her car again and made her way back home. It was a ten-minute drive that was again filled with loud singing and smooth dance moves behind the steering wheel.

It was already dark outside when she parked the car in the driveway. Their own Christmas decorations were still not lit and that bothered Marta. Normally, Frank was eager to turn them on as soon as the sun began to set. They could have easily gotten timer switches that would turn them on and off automatically but Frank had protested loudly when Marta suggested it. Turning on the Christmas lights was his favorite activity as soon as he came home from work. But today the lights were still off.

Without thinking too much about it, Marta carried her grocery bag towards their front door and fiddled with her keychain until she found the right key. Before she could turn it around in the lock to open the door she heard a loud crashing sound coming from inside their house.

Weird. What was Frank doing?

Just a second later she heard a gunshot, making her switch into Agent mode in the blink of an eye. With a swift movement she slid into the hallway after checking that nobody was inside. She knew she had a gun stored in the sideboard near the door, so she dug into the drawer and thankfully found the P99 pretty easily.

The house was silent. Too silent.

After the crashing sounds and the gunshot she expected to hear and see the intruders somewhere, but it was all quiet.

“Frank?” she asked up the stairs with a shaking voice.

No answer.

One step after another, the gun still in her hands, she climbed the stairs, securing the hallway before making her way to the bathroom. The last known location of her husband. The door stood ajar and with a gentle kick of her foot, she opened it. With her gun pointing around the room, she realized it was empty. No sign of Frank. Unlike a lot of houses, they didn’t have the bathroom attached to the master bedroom, so she went into the hallway again and turned right. Their bedroom was right next to it, the door closed.

She listened carefully for any sounds coming from it before slowly turning the handle and opening the door. The light was on but she couldn’t see Frank in this room either.

Then her eyes took in the crimson liquid that slowly made its way towards the door.

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