okay so i skipped yesterday bc I did a Younow instead, so I'll be posting two today! PART ONE AND PART 2! :D
***
You sat on the couch, holding your coffee in your hands and hardly being able to sit still. Your husband, Shawn, who had been gone for almost two months on his world tour-- was coming home today.
The anticipation was hard to ignore. You had been texting him all day; wondering if his flight had left yet, when he would land in the city of his connecting flight, what time it was there, if he had eaten anything yet, ect. He had been flying from city to city for two days, getting mobbed by fans at each airport, coming to you from the other side of the world.
Just to be home for Christmas.
"Mom! Mom!" your ten year old son, Asher, comes stomping down the stairs in his puffy snowsuit, coat, scarf, gloves, hat, and ski mask.
He runs up to you, almost tripping over his feet.
"Blake's dad got him a really cool sled for Chanukah and we're gonna go to the hill up the street to play on it," he explains.
"Alright," you smile slightly. "But make sure to be back in two hours, because we're going to pick up Dad from the airport."
"Okay, I will!"
"And take Andrew with you!" you yell as he approaches the front door, smiling with all of his teeth, which soon fades.
"Why do I have to?" he groans. "He's just going to be annoying and bother us the whole time."
"He deserves to have fun in the snow, too," you say, giving him a knowing look.
Andrew, who was only five, liked to copy everything that Asher does. When Asher learned how to ride a bike, Andrew followed him down the street on his tricycle, even though he could only pedal so fast with his little legs. When Asher orders chicken nuggets, Andrew orders the same exact thing, but tends to eat most of Asher's meal anyways.
"Please don't make me take him, Mom... " Asher puckers his lower lip out.
"You're taking him," you say, "and don't argue anymore."
It took a while to get Andrew all geared up, but eventually they were both out the door, leaving you alone in the vacancy of your home.
You sulk back into the comfort of your couch, checking your phone for any new messages.
Nothing. He must already be on the plane here.
You and the boys had already decorated the Christmas tree, deciding that it should look nice for Shawn when he arrives.
Plus, you had never gone a full Christmas Eve without even having stockings hung up or stringing the silver tinsel on the staircase. Before you knew it, you had decorated the whole house-- the opposite of what you had planned to do.
You put on National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation and make yourself another cup of coffee, not really knowing anything else to do while you wait.
Somewhere in the middle of Uncle Louis' burning down the Griswold Family Christmas Tree, your phone started buzzing on the couch beside you.
You check the caller ID, and, seeing that it was Shawn, you were a little confused. You raise the phone to your ear.
"Hello?"
There was a pause on the other end.
"Y/N, there's... there's s-something I need to t-tell you."
A thousand possibilities flooded into your mind all at once. You could hardly form a coherent response.
"What?"
Another pause. You hear him sigh, and you were sure he was going to speak, but he didn't.
"Shawn?"
"There are storms in this part of Ohio," he says quietly. "They won't board anyone. The flight was cancelled. I've been doing everything I can for the past hour trying to book another flight, but it's Christmas Eve... and everything is full. I am... " he trails off, sniffling, his voice becoming muffled and small, " ...so, so sorry.. "
"You mean... you won't be here for Christmas?"
You couldn't bear the thought of spending another night alone, in your bed that was supposed to be shared between the two of you. And on Christmas Eve, too. Waking up on Christmas morning to the boys jumping all over your bed, watching them open their presents that Santa left them, but having to leave Shawn's untouched.
Driving to your parent's house without Shawn there in the car with you to keep you sane. Not waiting for him to enter the living room from the kitchen, holding tea for himself and coffee for you. Christmas could try, but it would never be the same without him there beside you.
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so fu.cking sorry. I don't want to be at a hotel alone for Christmas, that's the absolute last thing I want. I miss you so much, I want to be there with you. I'm so sorry, I'm so, so, sorry... "
You put on a brave face, ignoring the lump in your throat and holding back the tears welling up in your eyes.
"It's okay," you say. "We still have New Years."
Then you hung up before he could say another word. You could feel yourself ready to burst out crying, and you didn't want to be on the phone with him when that happened.
***
part 2 will be up later today (: