Chapter 1
Christmas that year was supposed to be different. My ex and I lived together in a small home nestled among the mountains, and she had made plans for us to visit her mom, who lived alone downhill, for a cozy dinner. It was supposed to be warm and familial, but I had other ideas.
I made a lame excuse, told her to go ahead, and promised I’d join later. Instead, I found myself at the local wine shop, buying liquor, and heading to the banks of a quiet river near the mountains.
The place felt like a dream pulled straight out of a love story. The sand was soft and untouched, stretching out to meet the shimmering water. The river flowed slowly, its icy cold surface mirroring the evening sky, which was painted in hues of romantic blue and blushing pink. The gentle ripples caught the fading sunlight, as if nature itself was breathing softly. Birds flew overhead, their distant calls the only sound in the stillness, as they returned to their nests before the night.
I sat there, completely alone but strangely content in that moment. It was the kind of beauty that made you long to share it with someone—her, in this case. I wished she were there, holding my hand as we soaked in the serenity together. But I knew that was only a fantasy. She hated smoking and drinking, things I had selfishly clung to.
I stayed there for hours, the cold air numbing my skin and the liquor warming my insides, lost in thoughts that felt as endless as the river’s flow. And yet, when it was time to leave, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dissatisfaction, as if the moment had missed something—or someone—to make it whole.
Eventually, I got up and made my way downhill to her mom’s house. On the way, I stopped at a general store and handed the shopkeeper a 500-rupee note.
"Give me all the chocolates you have for this," I told him.
You see, my ex had a sweet tooth. She loved chocolates, cakes, anything sugary—even though her mom constantly warned me not to indulge her. My ex had an eating disorder, but I couldn’t resist her joy when she had her favorite treats.
I arrived at her mom’s place with a bag bursting with chocolates and candies, nearly spilling out. Her mom was, as expected, disappointed. She gave me a long lecture about responsibility, health, and respect for their household rules.
But that night, while her mom was asleep, my ex and I broke all the rules. She stole most of the sweets from the confiscated stash, giggling like a child, and I helped her sneak them into her room.
In that moment, amidst stolen chocolates and whispered laughter, it felt like Christmas after all.
