Page 2 of If He Wanted To, He Wood

“You ARE a douchewad! Fuck you!” I yell at him, but he continues to yammer on at me, reaching his dirty hand out to touch me, and I flee.

I rush out to my truck and drive home, wishing this weekend never happened. When I get there, I draw a bath and throw my phone on the charger. I watch as the bath bombs I added explode into different colours, and I feel the tears stream down my face.

In disbelief, my head is dizzy with the thought that someone could break your heart for their own selfish reasons. I wasted so much time with someone who would never treat me the way I deserve.

This holiday season is now destroyed by someone who didn’t even love me. My chest tightens at the thought of hating the whole season. I cry in the bath until the water gets cold, then pull myself out and put on my coziest pajamas. I wrap myself in a blanket burrito and turn on the television to zone out. The weekend passes me by as I lay on the couch and ignore the world.

I have gotten a few texts from Edward, but I refuse to entertain him. Anyone who uses my love for the holidays as an excuse to cheat on me and break my heart is a coward. Liz has sent a ton of texts, calls, and Facebook messages, but I lie about a sickness. I don’t want to lie to her, but I’m not ready for her wrath and I need some time to cry it out, to get it all out of my system before we make voodoo dolls and eat ice cream.

Two

Bruce

The lot is clearing out. Every day, I observe the workers as they cut down the large evergreens and pines in the back area. Christmas time is a depressing time for us.

The lot had an overhaul this year. Painted booths and selfie backdrops. The owner will do anything to stay relevant, but nothing can beat a good ole fashioned Christmas tree lot.

“Do you think the workers will come back here?” Ash whispers.

“No, they never do. They pick all those big guys up front,” I whisper.

“What if they want to make the lot longer and more spacious? They’ll come back here. We could be discovered if they decide to expand.”

“I doubt it. Nathan always picks the new trees. We won’t be taken. It hasn’t changed over the years,” I say. I know what to expect. Each season brings people in from all over the town. Some people have driven for hours to come here.

Nathan has been the biggest salesman over the years, he always ranked in the top spot of all the sales. His Christmas cheer is unmatched. There was absolutely nothing I could do to make him notice us. The lot is too large and we are too far at the back. I don’t hold a lot of hope that this will be our lucky year.

Three

Tasha

I call into work for tomorrow, I need today and the next day off. I’m too tired to fake it, and the residents at the long-term care home deserve better than what I can give them in my depressive state. My mood would only lessen their Christmas joy, and that isn’t what my job is about. It’s about bringing them the light they have been missing out on, showing them the fun they have forgotten about, and delivering comfort in their last days.

My job is very important, but I need to always be performing, providing the elderly with activities which enrich their lives and help pass the time. Dressing up every chance I get, I have an entire closet dedicated to tutus, holiday wear, and fancy hats. I love the work, but I can barely crack a smile and it’s not fair to anyone. I’ve spent the entire weekend in bed. I blocked Edward on everything. He sent me a message before I blocked him, saying everything was my fault, the toxic asshole. How I loved him so much is beyond me. I clearly missed every red flag, just trying to be in love.

There’s a knock on my door, but I ignore it. The sound intensifies and resembles a police officer knock on TV. Sighing, I roll myself out of bed and walk to the door to pull it open. Her eyes rake over my face, scanning my body, and she shakes her head.

“What did that fuck face do? I fucking swear I’ll kill him with my bare hands!” Liz growls. The tears fall down my face, and she opens the screen door to take me in her arms. Within her powerful embrace, I let myself relax and feel the love she has for me. We enter my house, closing the door against the cold and she walks to the kitchen to brew coffee.

“I’m sorry babe. I get so mad where he is concerned.” Banging open the cupboards and shaking her head, she pulls out her phone.

“I’m going to do a quick grocery order. We'll be sad today, but well-fed. Tomorrow we are going to shower, put on our best feel-good clothes and try to feel better,” she tells me as she adds things to the virtual cart while she paces her way around my kitchen.

“That sounds good, but I think I just need time. I’m not sad about losing him. I feel stupid, wasting so much time and effort on him.”

“The last thing you are is stupid. That douchewad is the stupid one. He lost you, and from the looks of you, he lost you for good. He is going to have to live with his fuck-up,” she tells me.

I think about it as I sip my coffee. She is right. I was always doing everything for him, to make him feel wanted, and I expected him to love me the way I loved him.

“I’ll make my famous poutine. We can lounge and talk if you are up to it. Did you record my shows?” She asks and I nod.

“What did he do?” She asks again.

“He cheated. I went to his house to surprise him for dinner. A blonde jumped out of bed when I opened the door. He got mad at me! Can you believe it?”

“Fucking prick! I could kill him.”

“He told me that I should have expected it. We only saw each other on weekends. He categorizes people into two groups: holiday people and himself, making fun of me for loving the holidays.” I wipe tears from my cheeks. Hearing myself talk about the horrible things he’s said finally makes me realize he really is a douchewad.

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