Christmas Destroys Love Relationships. Right?

(Content warnings: mild swearing, marital challenges, cartoon violence, kissing, social awkwardness)

I sit down in my cubicle, exhausted from the usual romantic disasters that tend to ensue on the week of Christmas. Even today, I've had to deal with two four-year-old boys--obviously future soul mates--who were throwing ornaments at each other. And the dude who thought it was romantic to get his wife a Match.com subscription for Christmas (before you ask, yes, they were monoamorous). And the idiots in this office job, just a disguise for my real career.

Sure, pushing papers around a desk isn't great. But it takes off the pressure for any love in my life. In a wrinkled suit, cat-eyed glasses, and longish hair dyed a mousy shade of brown, I don't look like the goddess of love I was raised to be. I'm just a bisexual demi-girl from a small town who's out of place in LA but even more so where she came from. Being gay's already awkward, but living as a supernatural being? Yeah. That's a thing.

I'm typing out my thousandth email of the day when a message comes in on the group chat that us "mythological beings" use. I expect it to be a random work email, but it's for my other job. Damn it.

Santa Claus (he/him): @Cupid, any way u can take over 2mrow? @MrsClaus & I are meeting w/ r divorce lawyers that nite, & we still haven't found 1 that doesn't recognize me. (She moved away frm the North Pole after 1 of r latest arguments. I think shes near u if u care)

Immediately, a thousand shocked reactions pour in. But I'm not shocked--she's too young for him anyway. And it's not like he has a steady job. Or can spell, for that matter.

But...wait? What did he just ask? I can't do that. Christmas destroys love relationships (right?), so we're pretty much mortal enemies. Maybe the divorce stress is driving him insane or something. (I don't subscribe to marriage because it's part of heteronormative power structures, so thankfully I'll never be divorced.)

Cupid (she/they): Can't y'all just get an elf to do it or something?

Santa Claus (he/him): Haven't you seen the film? They don't have awesome social skills.

I have to admit it's a good point--I have better social skills than an elf. Cupid (she/they): I guess I can give it a try?

--------------------

The morning of Christmas Eve, I'm in an apartment across town, chatting with the former Mrs. Claus. Who doesn't seem too pleased to see me. "So can you remind me why you're here again?"

I sigh, taking a bite of one of the played-out holiday cookies she put on her kitchen table. "I'm doing your ex-husband's job for him. Is there any way you can deal with romance stuff tonight?"

"Romance stuff?" She makes a face, leaning against the table. Her mood lighting's warm and bright, and it makes her look warmer and brighter too. "I just got divorced, Cupid. I don't have a degree in Yenta or anything--"

I roll my eyes, suddenly realizing that her food isn't terrible. "That's a reference to an early 2000s rom-com. Of course you can deal with romance, Mrs--" Then I stop myself. "I'm sorry, but I don't know your real name."

"Just Bernadette is fine." Of course she has a cheesy name. "I use she/her pronouns. You use she/they, right?"

I nod. "Yep. I identify as at least partially a womxn and am very proudly queer. And my real name's Mitali, by the way."

"Cool. Anyway, just because I've been married doesn't mean I can make these decisions for the entire human race."

"First of all, it's not the entire human race. You don't have to do it for the aromantic community." She smiles at my inclusion, moving a little closer to me. It's hard not to notice how her blue eyes gleam in this light, but I press on. "And second, nobody needs you to be perfect. I mean, somewhere after the dawn of humanity, I made people of the opposite gender fall in love. I mean, I'm bi, so I have a dog in this fight, but still. Weird."