Love scorned.
.It was Christmas, and like every year, I had just finished my shift at the bakery my husband and I have co-owned for the last ten years. It had become a tradition that I close down the store, bring home our favorite Christmas treats—gingerbread, snickerdoodles, and homemade hot cocoa—and rush home to watch the all-night reruns of A Christmas Story. As I walked the six blocks to our apartment, snowflakes danced around me, melting lightly on my cheeks. I zipped my coat all the way up, feeling the cold bite at my fingertips despite the warmth inside. The crisp winter air smelled faintly of fresh snow and pine from nearby holiday decorations, mingling with the sweet scent of the bakery still clinging to my coat. Around me, the soft crunch of snow underfoot blended with the gentle laughter of couples window shopping, the twinkle of Christmas lights reflecting off the icy sidewalks, and the cheerful harmonies of carolers drifting through the night. Each step felt magical, as if the whole city had wrapped itself in a blanket of festive wonder.As I reached our apartment building, I noticed all the lights were off except for one dim glow coming from our bedroom. jack must be waiting in there for me. As I punched in the code and walked up the stairs, I couldn’t help but think about the past fifteen years of our marriage. While rocky at times, we had made it this far. From debt, medical bills, and family loss, we had come out the other side stronger than ever.As I went to open the door, I noticed it was unlocked. That was… weird. Jack always locks the door behind him, especially after the recent string of break-ins. My hands trembled slightly as I pulled out my keys and locked it properly after stepping inside. The moment I entered, my eyes fell on a pair of heels, two wine glasses, and a pair of satin red panties laid out on the floor, next to the belt I had gotten jack for his birthday just a month ago. My stomach tightened, a cold knot forming in my chest. Panic and disbelief collided as I froze, straining my ears. Then I heard it: a woman’s laughter, soft but unmistakable, coming from our bedroom. My heart sank, pounding so hard I thought she might hear it too. Anger, fear, and betrayal surged all at once, leaving me momentarily paralyzed at the threshold of the life I thought I knew.With my heart pounding and my hands shaking uncontrollably, I slowly made my way to the bedroom. Each step felt like wading through molasses, my chest tight, stomach twisting into knots that burned with dread. When I looked inside, my world shattered. A thin blonde woman writhed on the bed, moaning as my husband. My husband loomed over her. Her hand, tipped with garish red nails, pushed him deeper, and the acrid sting of betrayal rose in my throat. The faint scent of perfume, cloying and foreign, mixed with the lingering warmth of our room, making the air feel heavy and suffocating. “WHAT THE FUCK!” I screamed, my voice cracking with rage and disbelief. The sound ricocheted off the walls, and both of them froze. jack jerked upright, eyes wide, and the woman’s startled gasp pierced the thick, tense air. My ears rang with the sound, clashing with the thunder of my own heartbeat and the icy rush of adrenaline coursing through me. My palms ached as I clenched them into fists, nails biting into skin, every fiber of me trembling, not only with fury, but with a raw, gut-wrenching grief I couldn’t contain. The floor beneath me felt cold and hard, grounding me in the cruel reality of what I was seeing. I wanted to run, to strike, to vanish all at once. My legs felt both frozen and on fire. The life I thought I had. The love I thought I shared, the safety of home. had been ripped away in a single, merciless instant.I stumbled backward, barely keeping my footing on the cold bedroom floor. My fingers fumbled at the doorframe as I tried to calm my racing heart. Jack's wide eyes met mine, and something primal inside me snapped. I didn’t know if I wanted to shout, strike, or run, but I knew I had to get out of that room before I lost control entirely. “Viv wait!” Jack called after me, but I didn’t stop. It felt like the walls were closing in around me, my chest tightening until I could barely breathe. My heart felt like it was going to explode. I had to get out. I had to run. I needed fresh air. I couldn’t believe he would do this to me. And on Christmas. I burst through the apartment door and down the stairs, my feet pounding against each step, adrenaline making everything sharper and louder. Out the front door, the cold winter air hit my face, cutting through the haze of shock. I ran for my car, the city lights blurring as tears stung my eyes. Where was I going to go? jess was out of town. My parents were in another state. My mind was a whirlwind of disbelief and fury. I didn’t care I just needed to drive. Anywhere. Away. After driving for a while, I ended up at the town’s local bar. God, I needed a drink. I laughed bitterly at the thought. Me, alone at a bar on Christmas. My head throbbed, and my eyes were swollen from crying, the sting of tears still sharp against my skin. My phone buzzed relentlessly in my pocket: about a hundred missed calls from Jack, all sent to voicemail. I pushed through the bar’s door and was immediately hit by the warmth inside, thick with the scent of spilled beer, pine-scented air fresheners, and the faint tang of cigarette smoke from outside. Outside, snow flurries swirled in the dim glow of streetlights, and the crisp winter air pressed against the windows, a sharp reminder of the world I’d just fled. I went to the restroom and splashed cold water on my face, the icy sting jolting me slightly back into myself. My reflection looked like a stranger—puffy-eyed, disheveled, raw. I took a deep breath, tried to steady my shaking hands, and ordered a drink. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but tonight I needed something strong. Something that would burn down the ache in my chest and quiet the chaos in my head, even if only for a moment. I thought about what had happened tonight, how I should have said something, stood up for myself, how I should have thrown the cocoa on them, ruining any fun they might have had. I buried my face in my hands, fighting back the sting in my eyes, whisking away any trace of tears before they could fall. That’s when I noticed him. A very handsome, tall man sitting next to me. His hair was deep coal black, flecked with hints of brown and gold, and his eyes… his eyes were the bluest blue I had ever seen. They practically glowed, like the sky and the ocean rolled into one. And his ears… pointed? My breath caught. He was fae.
I knew the fae came to the human world from time to time, mostly to have fun, but I had never seen one before. I guess what they said was true, they really were… breathtaking. Gosh, Vi, what’s gotten into you? I scolded myself silently. You just caught your husband cheating; you can’t be thinking about other men right now. I mean, he did cheat on you, gods. Maybe it was the need for revenge. Maybe it was the whiskey talking. But before I could stop myself, I spoke. My voice trembled slightly as I addressed the tall gentleman, who wore a cold, unreadable expression. “What brings you here tonight… on Christmas of all evenings?”He didn’t answer right away. He just tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if measuring me, reading me in a way no human ever had. The cold expression on his face made my stomach twist—not with fear, exactly, but with a strange, electric tension that prickled along my skin. I realized I was still gripping my glass too tightly, the whiskey inside sloshing slightly over the rim. The warmth from it did little to thaw the chill in my chest, but it steadied my shaking hands just enough. Outside, the snow continued to drift lazily past the windows, tiny flecks of silver catching the streetlights like scattered diamonds. The crisp winter air pressed against the glass, a reminder of the world I had just fled. Finally, he spoke. His voice was low, smooth, and carried a resonance that seemed to vibrate in my chest. “I could ask the same of you,” he said. “Not many humans choose to be alone on Christmas night." I tried to pull my thoughts back to jack, to the mess I’d left behind, but it was impossible. His eyes flicked to mine, sharp and calculating, and for a moment, I felt like he could see straight into my chest past the heartbreak, past the shock, all the way to the raw knot of anger and hurt I was trying to hide. He didn’t smile, not yet. But there was something in the tilt of his head, the faint raise of an eyebrow, that made the air between us feel charged, almost alive. I swirled my glass of amber liquid before answering, . I had just caught my husband of fifteen years with another woman in our own home, and the memory still burned behind my eyes. They stung, and I took another drink, trying to wash it down with the burn of whiskey. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his voice low, smooth, carrying a resonance that made my chest tighten in sympathy and unease all at once. his gaze distant, almost reverent. “ my wife… she loved this human holiday. So every year, I come and remember her.” He paused, and I noticed a shadow cross his otherwise impassive face. “She passed six years ago.” The bar seemed to fade around me for a moment. Snowflakes still drifted past the windows, the faint scent of pine and whiskey heavy in the warm air, but I couldn’t focus on anything except the grief in his eyes. A strange pull stirred in my chest—a mix of curiosity, pity, and the faintest spark of something I didn’t understand yet.
