Broken Dreams and a New Year’s Miracle
Katherine had been seeing Maxim for over a year. Their meetings were so rare they could be marked in the calendar with a red pen, like holidays. He lived in Manchester, only visiting her small town near York for work. They had grand plans for the future, and this New Year’s Eve was meant to decide who would move where. Then, suddenly, the phone rang. Katherine startled—it was Maxim!
“Hello, darling,” she said, forcing warmth into her voice despite the chaos of the day.
But a sharp woman’s voice answered instead: “Well, hello there, homewrecker!”
Katherine froze, unable to utter a word.
Everything had gone wrong that New Year’s Eve morning. Her boss had called, demanding she rush to the office to sign a contract with overseas partners. No one cared about Katherine’s plans—she’d booked a hair appointment, but duty called. The managing director was lounging on some sunny beach, while she muttered under her breath, hailed a cab, and dashed to work.
Leaving the business centre, she remembered the dress she was supposed to collect from her friend Alice, who worked as a seamstress. The dress, bought specially for the night, now hung like a sack. Katherine preferred to think she’d lost weight rather than admit the fabric was cheap. She dialled Alice.
“Alice, I’m so sorry—I completely forgot about the dress!”
“Katie, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour!” Alice shouted over the noise of the train station.
“Blame the boss,” Katherine sighed. “How’s the dress? Can I still pick it up?”
“Katie, I’m sorry,” Alice’s voice wavered. “We’re already at the station. The train leaves in half an hour.”
Katherine lowered the phone, feeling her hopes crumble. “Fine,” she told herself. “No dress, no hairstyle, but it’s New Year’s Eve! Maxim will be here soon, and we’ll spend the night together. It’s not so bad.”
At twenty-six, Katherine was still a romantic at heart, clinging to the belief in miracles. Even after the dreadful day, she hoped the night would bring her magic.
When the phone rang again, she startled, lost in her thoughts. Seeing Maxim’s name, she steadied herself to sound cheerful.
“Hello, darling,” she began.
“Well, hello there, homewrecker!” a woman’s voice cut in. “Did you really think he’d leave his family for you? Forget his number, or you’ll regret it!”
The line went dead, leaving Katherine reeling. The rare meetings, his silence on weekends, the strange slips in conversation—it all made sense now. She drifted toward the bus stop, leaning against a lamppost, staring blankly ahead. “Homewrecker.” The word struck like a hammer. Her world had shattered in an instant. The old year was slipping away, taking everything she’d believed in with it.
“Are you all right, miss?” A booming voice snapped her from her daze. A man with a thick beard, dressed in a red coat with a white fur collar, stood before her.
“No,” she whispered, fighting tears. “And who are you?”
“Father Christmas, of course!” he chuckled. “Come on, into the car—you’ll catch your death out here!”
Before she could protest, he guided her to his vehicle. The engine started, and as they pulled away, panic set in.
“Stop! Where are you taking me? Let me out!”
The driver obliged, pulling over and turning to her. “I only wanted to help. I was on my way to a café—thought you might like some hot tea. You were standing there, frozen stiff. It’s nearly New Year’s, and well… I suppose I’m playing Father Christmas tonight.”
The last line landed awkwardly, but suddenly, Katherine laughed. It burst out of her, washing away the day’s pain—the ruined dress, the missed appointment, Maxim’s betrayal, this strange “Father Christmas.”
“Sorry,” she choked out between tears and laughter.
“Don’t be,” the man smiled. “The old year’s taking all the bad with it. Things will get better. Take me, for example—my best mate just bailed on our fifteen-year tradition because of his new wife.”
Katherine felt an unexpected lightness. Maybe it was the cold, maybe this odd encounter, but the weight lifted.
“You’ve probably got somewhere to be,” the man said, starting the engine again. “Where can I drop you?”
“Nowhere,” she admitted with a sad smile. “No one’s waiting. No dress, no hairstyle. Free as the wind. I don’t even know what to do.”
“Then let’s ring in the New Year together? I know a cosy little place—promises to be magical.”
“I don’t mind, just let me change first,” she said. The thought of being alone tonight was unbearable.
At home, she swapped her damp clothes, returned to the car with a smile, and a flicker of anticipation. Inside the café, twinkling with fairy lights, she finally got a proper look at her companion.
“Why are you dressed as Father Christmas?” she asked, amused.
“Oh, that’s a long and funny story,” he laughed, pulling off the coat and beard. “I’m John, by the way.”
“Katherine,” she offered her hand. “Do tell, John. I could use a funny story today.”
John ordered tea and began his tale. Conversation flowed easily, and sorrow melted like snow in the sun. Outside, fat flakes drifted down as the New Year knocked at the door.
The old year ended, taking pain and disappointment with it. The new one gave Katherine and John the start of something bright and true—a love story born under the glow of New Year’s lights. Katherine knew it then: the miracle had happened after all.
