About A Week Before Christmas
B yt h et i m eI left the salon, I reeked of heat protectant, burning flat irons, and peppermint oil. My back ached, my edges were fuzzy, and my feet were screaming in my Ugg slippers. But... I’d survived the day. The cold slapped me as soon as I stepped outside, the December air sharp and disrespectful.
Pulling my peacoat closed, I cursed under my breath and hustled across the street, heading straight for the burrito spot on the corner. I didn’t even have to think about it anymore. My body just moved towards Chico’s Titos Burritos. The tiny place was packed as usual in Arbor Hills. The line snaked to the door, the same old bachata playlist thumped from the back, and the grill popped loudly behind the sneeze guard.
I stood in line, scrolling my phone, half-listening to people talk about Christmas shopping, party plans, and winter storm warnings. The smell of grilled chicken and cilantro rice made my stomach rumble harder.
When I finally got to the front, the cashier grinned like he’d been expecting me. “Back again, huh?” he teased, eyes playful behind his glasses. “Let me guess… spicy chicken burrito with yellow rice, extra pico, extra avocado, light cheese, and no sour cream?”
I smirked, pulling out my wallet. “You know me too well.”
He rang me up, still chuckling. “You’ve had this like… what? Every other day for the past two weeks?”
“Mmhmm,” I hummed, tapping my card. “What can I say? I’ve been craving it.” He winked as I stepped to the side.
Waiting for my number to be called, his words stuck in my mind. I mean, I had been craving this same damn burrito for weeks now.Craving. Why did that word feel like a bullet to the chest?
I pulled my phone out and opened my calendar app, swiping back to the last menstrual cycle I tracked. Then I blinked… and blinked again.No. That can’t be right.I counted silently, lips moving, heart pounding.Twenty-eight… twenty-nine… thirty-seven…
“Shit,” I whispered out loud, barely catching my breath as I backed up and pushed out of the restaurant.
The cold didn’t hit the same this time, not when my brain was racing and my stomach was turning for a different reason.I leaned against the brick wall, staring out at the street but not really seeing it. My hands weren’t just shaking.
My whole body felt as though it had paused for a second. It shouldn’t have been shocking. Woods and I weren’t exactly careful. Yes, I was on the pill. But between all the freaky sex we had over the Thanksgiving weekend and not one damn Plan B in sight, even though it was mentioned? Yeah. So technically, this wasn’t a surprise. But feeling the possibility hit me all at once? It still knocked the wind out of me.
My heart was pounding, my stomach twisted, and for the first time since I left him at that airport gate, I didn’t know whether to laugh, panic, or pray. Because as much as the signs were right there… I wasn’t ready for reality to walk right up and tap me on the shoulder like this. Thanksgiving came back to me in flashes. That raw, nasty connection that hadn’t stopped replaying in my mind since Woods and I parted ways at the airport.
We’d been texting damn near every day since. Late night FaceTimes. Laughs. Teasing. Even one night when things got extra spicy and the camera didn’t stay above the shoulders. I’d told myself I was just having fun. That I could handle it. But the truth was, Woods was more than just a fling. He was someone I was starting to care about, someone who was becoming a significant part of my life. But this missing period was something else.
My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a message from Troi, my flamboyant bestie from the salon. But no, it was an incoming FaceTime from Woods. Hisname lit up my screen, and I stared at it, thumb hovering, breath shallow.
He had no idea what was running through my mind. He had no idea my whole life might’ve just flipped the fuck upside down. He had no idea how bad I’d been fiending to see his face… even before this little surprise epiphany hit. The call kept ringing. I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
I just stood there, torn between answering and running. But the way I was frozen outside of Chico’s, phone in hand, cravings in my belly, and Wood’s name on my screen? Yeah. We weren’t done yet... not even close.
Is a ti nmy car outside Chico’s Burritos with the engine running. The windows were already fogging up from the heat blasting, and my hands were shaking so bad I had to lay them flat against my thighs just to get myself to breathe.
I couldn’t even drive right away. I couldn’t think. All I could do was sit there with the streetlight reflecting across my windshield. Christmas lights were strung on the storefronts across the parking lot, and my pulse was hammering so loud it felt like somebody knocking inside my damn chest.
I looked down at my phone in the cup holder. Woods was calling again, and I just let it ring. I didn’t decline it. I didn’t answer it. I just stared at his name glowing on the screen until it faded.
God, I miss him.
This wasn’t like me to ignore his calls. But shit, I was going through it. A single thought kept spinning in my head: Woods manifested this. Was this his fault? Maybe not entirely, but you know what I mean. He spoke this shit into existence. Now here I was, sitting alone, possibly pregnant. Most likely... definitely... pregnant.
People walked in and out of the burrito place under the glow of colored Christmas lights. A couple with matching scarves. Two teenagers laughing. A man holding a little girl’s hand while she bounced as if she’d overdosed on cocoa and candy canes. Snow on the edges of the sidewalks. Wreaths hanging from the light poles. Music coming from the speakers outside the stores. It all looked warm and peaceful. The whole city was excited for Christmas.
Meanwhile, I sat in my car, holding my breath like the world was ending. I was still hungry. I wanted that damn burrito. I shut off the engine and rushed inside Chico’s for my food. Then I got back in the car and drove off, eating. I was in heaven. At a red light, my phone dinged with a text from Woods.
Ignoring it, I stepped on the gas and kept grubbing on my burrito while heading toward the nearest CVS. Once there, Ifinished eating in the parking lot and guzzled a bottle of water. Sitting back, I felt like a greedy bitch.
The store was nearly deserted. Tinny old-school Christmas music played. An older woman stacked gift wrap on a display. I snatched the first pregnancy test I saw and hurried to self-checkout. I paid, shoved it in my purse, and rushed to the car. My stomach twisted all the way back to my apartment.
By the time I pulled up outside my building, I felt like I was floating above my own body. Everything around me looked blurry. I had to talk myself out of sitting in the car all night. “Get out,” I whispered. “Go upstairs. Just take the test. You’re already freaking out—just get it over with.”
I forced myself out of the car and headed straight inside to the elevator, barely waving at the doorman. The lobby was decked out in full holiday mode with a tall tree sparkling with silver and blue ornaments and fake snow dusted across the windowsills. There was even that same jazzy version of “This Christmas” playing low through the speakers. I kept my head down and hit the button, praying nobody stepped on with me.
When the elevator finally let me off on the sixth floor, I made a beeline for my apartment, unlocked the door, and stepped into my little bubble of peace. It was soft and calm. Just how I liked it. Creamy beige walls, gold accents, a velvet blush couch I’d saved up for, and a fuzzy rug that felt like clouds under my feet. My apartment was everything to me.
