Five days before Christmas, Lily received such a wave of hurt, disappointment, and humiliation that she barely pulled herself together. And even then, she only managed it for the sake of the children, not wanting to spoil their holiday spirit.
Max had been complaining about everything lately. Nothing his wife did or the children said pleased him. He snapped at them constantly. Even nine-year-old Tommy noticed, asking his mother:
“Mum, why is Dad so cross all the time?”
His little sister Emily, just in Year One, might not have noticed, but her older brother had voiced his worries loud and clear.
“Don’t mind it, love,” Lily hugged him and kissed the top of his head. “Dad’s just stressed at work. He comes home tired and upset. I’ll talk to him.”
But Lily knew better. Something was wrong. Max had been distracted, lashing out at everyone—even the children when they played noisily, though before, he’d been the one leading their boisterous games while she begged them to quiet down.
One afternoon, Tommy and Emily were chasing each other around the flat.
“Stop tearing about like mad things, or you’ll be in trouble!” Max snarled, his tone so sharp the children froze.
They scurried to their room and shut the door behind them.
“Max, what’s going on?” Lily asked softly after seeing their wide-eyed faces. “You could at least speak to them properly.”
“Nothing’s going on,” he snapped.
“Don’t lie. You’ve been taking things out on us for weeks. What have we done to deserve it?”
Lily hadn’t expected what came next—and immediately wished she’d never started this conversation. But then she thought, *What does it matter? Now or later…*
Max stood abruptly, hesitated, shifting his weight, then finally spoke.
“I didn’t want to do this before Christmas, but since you’re pushing…”
“Why?” Lily stared at him, baffled.
“So I wouldn’t ruin the holiday.”
“How could you possibly ruin it?”
“For heaven’s sake—” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Fine. I met someone else. I’m leaving.”
*”What?* You’re joking.”
“I’m not. We’re done. I’ll see the kids on weekends. I’ll pay child support.”
Lily stood frozen, trying to process it, but he cut her off before she could speak.
“I’ll tell the kids myself. Don’t say anything yet.”
“Not now,” she whispered. The last thing she wanted was to shatter them before Christmas.
Max went to the bedroom, stuffed a bag with his things, and left without another word. The door slammed behind him.
*This is what it feels like,* Lily thought numbly, sinking onto the sofa. *To be thrown away. Like your whole world’s collapsed. And now I have to hold it together for them.*
She might have stayed there all evening, drowning in self-pity, but Emily burst in.
“Mum, did Dad go somewhere? Where is he?”
“Dad? Oh—he, uh, got called away for work. Last-minute trip.”
“When’s he coming back?”
“I don’t know, love.”
Tommy appeared in the doorway. “So we’re spending Christmas just us three?”
“Yes, but we’ll still have the tree, presents—everything like always,” Lily forced a smile, keeping her voice steady.
That night, she barely slept, Max’s words looping in her head. *I’m in love with someone else.* She refused to accept it.
On the morning of Christmas Eve, she made herself get up, determined to make the day special. The hardest part was hiding her heartbreak so the children wouldn’t suspect anything. So she busied herself cooking—at least she was good at that. Maybe losing herself in recipes would help.
As she chopped vegetables, she realised she’d forgotten a few things at the shops.
“Mum, where are you going?” Emily chirped.
“Just popping to Tesco.”
“I’ll come!” Emily dashed off to get her coat.
“Mum, get crisps!” Tommy called from the sofa. “I’ll stay here. Em, remind her about the crisps!”
Later, the kids went out to play. The tree was decorated, the table set, a bowl of fruit in the centre. Lily was in the kitchen when Tommy’s voice rang out:
“Mum, come quick!”
She wiped her hands and stepped into the hall to find him cradling a tiny black kitten with a white spot between its ears. Both children beamed.
“No. Absolutely not,” Lily said firmly.
*”Muuuum,”* Emily whined.
“He’s dirty! Where did you even find him?”
“Mum, what if Dad says yes?” Tommy tried.
“Your dad isn’t here. Put a towel in the hallway and pour some milk. He can stay there.”
“But it’s freezing! We’ll wash him!”
Lily held firm. “Take him outside. And wash your hands.”
Tommy stomped off, defeated. The children ate dinner in silence, then vanished into their room, shutting the door. Lily felt guilty but couldn’t face another upheaval—a stray kitten, on top of everything else?
Later, while kneading pie dough, she noticed an eerie quiet. Curious, she peeked into their room.
“Em, grab a cloth! Mum’ll see!”
“You do it!”
In the centre of the floor was a small puddle. The kitten sat beside it, perfectly innocent.
Lily nearly shrieked. She snatched him up and marched him back outside.
*”Mum!”* the kids wailed.
Exhausted, she collapsed onto the sofa. The cooking, the kitten, the shattered holiday—it was too much.
*Why did I even bother making a feast? The three of us don’t need all this. A salad and pie would’ve been enough.*
Outside, it was dark. The table still needed setting, but she had no energy. The children were shut away, probably crying. She hated Christmas this year.
Just as she stood, the doorbell rang. *That nosy Mrs. Jenkins again,* she thought, bracing herself for another kitten lecture.
She yanked the door open—and froze.
Max stood there.
“I asked you not to tell the kids yet,” she whispered.
“Lily, I can’t live without you. I came back. I’m sorry. I was an idiot. You and the kids—you’re my life.”
*”Dad’s home!”* Tommy shouted, the kitten now cradled in his arms.
*”Daddy, can we keep him?”* Emily begged.
Max stepped inside and shut the door.
“Dad, please ask Mum! This is Lucky! Please let us keep him!”
Tommy gave his best pitiful look.
“Well… a black cat *is* good luck,” Max said, grinning. “What d’you say, love?”
Lily rolled her eyes, hiding her smile. “Oh, fine. Do what you want.”
That Christmas Eve, they celebrated as they always had—searching for presents under the tree, lighting sparklers, laughing as the countdown began. Only Lucky slept through it all, curled up warm and safe in the children’s room, finally home.
