He's Your Ex Husband and Him And Your Daughter Don't Celebrate Christmas With You
Masterlist
Waking up on Christmas morning is inevitably a joyful feeling. It’s the day for giving and receiving, loving and sharing. Although, this Christmas, Y/n woke up feeling a knew level of loneliness. Harry, her ex husband, is celebrating this years holiday at his girlfriends house. Y/n’s daughter, Tracie, is joining them as well, since Harry had begged to celebrate Christmas with her and his girlfriend at once. Y/n couldn’t say no, considering Harry rarely got to see Tracie with the busyness of his job. She took it as she wasn’t invited. Harry’s new girlfriend, Cara, and her had never gotten along. It was a typical ex wife and new girlfriend move, constant and uncontrollable feelings of jealousy the more minutes spent with one another.
Sighing, Y/n hops out of bed. She has no plans for the day, so she immediately heads out for a walk. She’s aware of the bitter cold air, and the ice forming around her, but she figures that maybe, just maybe, something could relate to how she’s felt these last couple of months. Hugging the jacket closer, Y/n shivers at the gusts of white winds blowing against her. Her fragile body becoming even more sensitive, and she quickly partakes in the action of taking out a cigarette. Placing it between her lips, lighting it, she is more calm that she has been.
How did she get so lonely so fast? That’s all she’s been wondering for the past couple of months. She used to be the happiest woman on Earth. Gifted with a beautiful baby girl. Gifted with the perfect husband. Gifted with a roof over her head and love in the air. She doesn’t understand why it ended up with her, walking alone on Christmas morning, burning the pain away.
A part of her blames Harry. The other parts don’t want to, because she’s undoubtably in love with him, and she wants to forgive him for the mistakes he’s made. But that other part of her, that big part of her, knows that this wouldn’t be her new life if he just would have just loved her. A month after Tracie was born, Harry had told Y/n that he had met another woman. He met her at a business meeting, where she was hired to work under his new company. Ever since the day they met, he had loved her. Harry didn’t cheat, per say, but he had fallen out of love with his wife and fallen in love with a client. It surly was enough to file for divorce, where Y/n later gained custody of Tracie.
In the thoughts of her daughter, Y/n begins to wonder what she’s doing. What gifts she’s unwrapping, her reactions to them. What Christmas song they’re listening to, if she knows the words. What food they’re making for her, if she’s devoured every bit of it. She decides to call in. It’s around noon, and she knows without a doubt that they are already done, or nearly done, with her gifts.
Taking a seat on the nearest park bench, Y/n calls Harry. Tracie is opening her last gift when Harry gets the call from Y/n.
“Tracie! It’s mummy!” Harry calls, smiling before answering the call.
“Y/n! Merry Christmas!” He cheers.
“Mummy, mummy, mummy!” Tracie chants, rushing over to her father as she jumps on top of him.
“Merry Christmas! How is everything going?” Y/n asks, discreetly taking a drag of her half-finished cigarette.
“It’s going great! Tracie just opened her last gift. Which I believe was a—”
"A new American Girl Doll! We got matching pajamas and everything!“ Tracie squeals.
"That’s amazing, baby! Mumma misses you very much. You’re going to have to show me your new twin tomorrow, honey!"
"No! No! I want to show you today! Daddy, can we visit mummy? I miss her and I want her to play dolls with me!"
"Baby, Cara wanted us to—"
"But I want mummy.” Tracie pouts, tugging at the hem of his shirt in desperation.
Harry sighs, looking at his daughter with so much care and love. Who could say no to her begs? He doesn’t want to see her sad, especially on her favorite holiday.
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Y/n, we’ll meet you in a bit. Maybe after some lunch at tea?”
Y/n smiles slightly, throwing her now used up cigarette on the concrete before stepping on it with the bottom of her boots.
“That’s fine. I have to clean up the house anyways, if you guys are coming over. How about I make some food, or something?"
"Whatever works for you. We’ll be there in two or so hours. I suppose we can exchange gifts today then?"
"That’s fine. I should start getting to work. See you later, Harry, bye!"
After hanging up, Y/n’s quick to walk back to her house. It wasn’t planned for her to see Tracie or Harry until tomorrow evening. She’s been planning on going through a lonely, sad, long Christmas. But now she’s going to be with the two people she loves with all her heart, and she can’t be more excited.
The first hour and a half have been consisting of constant cleaning and baking. Once everything was complete, she sat down to watch Tracie’s favorite, The Polar Express, to see if her mood would brighten to it’s fullest. It’s in this moment, where she is sitting alone, on Christmas, and having nobody to turn to her time of sadness when she realizes that she misses Harry. Now more than ever, she wishes she could hold him how she had before. She wishes they could love each other the way they used to, that is, if he ever loved her back. It was times like these when she usually had Tracie to pull her back up, but she doesn’t have her now, when she needs her most. And she can’t help but to cry for her pathetic feelings she has for her ex husband, and how much she still relies on him for the sake of her happiness.
Wiping her tears, Y/n hears the front door open without warning.
"Mummy! Mummy!” Tracie calls, clapping her hands in the air in excitement.
“Oh my little angel!” Y/n cheers, lifting her tiny body up until her neck reached her face.
She buried her face in her daughter’s neck, thankful for her to be home when she most needed her.
"Missed you so much. So, so much" Y/n whispers, peppering soft kisses along her neck. “
That tickles, mummy, that tickles!” Tracie laughs, her squeals of sensitivity bouncing off the walls. She places her down on the floor, and Tracie immediately takes off to watch The Polar Express. Y/n laughs to herself, shaking her head before turning to look at Harry. He looks concerned, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s quick to hug her, and she could tell he was trying his best to make her feel better, for whatever the reason she was upset.
“Merry Christmas, Y/n” he smiles.
“Merry Christmas."
It turns silent, and the only thing that they could make out was the movie blaring from the speakers. Y/n wipes her eyes again, remnants of tears still leaving evidence upon her skin.
"Well, shall we join Tracie?"
"Y/n, what’s wrong?"
"I don't—"
"I know you more than anybody. I’ve studied every part of you, I know you too much to know something is wrong."
"Nothing’s wrong! Can we please just watch the movie?” Y/n begs, scared that she’ll end up showing her true emotions.
“Y/n, why don’t you talk to me anymore? You used to always talk to me.” Harry frowns at his words, because he finally realizes that it hurts him that she doesn’t talk to him like she used to. To this day, even despite the fact he is in love with another woman, Y/n will always be the biggest part of him. She was his everything, his everything and all. But not in the way she used to be.
“I don’t have to talk to you anymore.” She cries, “besides, it doesn’t matter. Nothing’s changed. I’m always negative, I’ve always been negative. That’s why you fell out of love with me, right? Lets just watch the movie, okay?"
Harry frowns, but quickly obliges to her suggestion.
They take a seat on the couch, sitting close together, because that’s how Tracie likes it. Half way through the movie, Tracie has drifted ff to sleep. She had woken up too early to stay up all day, but she wouldn’t be missing much to begin with.
"Y/n?” Harry whispers.
“Mhm?” He fidgets, nervous at what he was about to do.
Harry figures that what he’s about to do needs to be done, to bring some closure for himself. Maybe even to help her. He has never seen Y/n this upset in his life. She just looks so lost, almost disconnected from her surroundings. Tracie has told him that she cries at night, but he never knew why. But he can see it now. The way she shies away from him, closes all her barriers around him, he can see it now. He knows it’s him, it’s him that makes her cry, that makes her burn her insides with toxic, and that makes her lose trust in him.
“Can—can I hold you?”
Y/n’s eyes go wide. What? Why would he ask her that? Why would he do that to her? She’s dying to say no, because he doesn’t love her anymore, but she’s still in love with him, and this will bring her even more pain.
But she needs this. She needs the comfort and the love and the support she’s had lack of. What else was she supposed to do?
Without replying, she moves into his body. His strong arms hold her tightly against him, as in a way to keep her close. This is all he wants, for her to realize that it doesn’t have to be so bad. She doesn’t have to be so sad.
“I care for you, more than anything. I may be in love with Cara, and madly in love with her, but Y/n, you’re you. My first kiss, my first time, my first love. I gave you everything. You gave me everything. I opened up to you in ways I haven’t even opened up to myself. You showed me the God damn world, Y/n. I still love you. I love you so, so much. I always will. You’re always apart of something in me. I just want you to remember that."
Y/n has silent tears running down her face. She’s rubbing his skin with her thumb. She’s upset. Upset because she loves him more than anybody. Upset because she will never be able to let him go. She knows she should, she knows. But she can’t. She will never.
"I just wish it could be how it was before” she sniffles, her gaze blank, falling on the floor.
Harry pushes her back towards him a bit more, maybe for her body to shield his broken heart. Maybe just to try and understand why he couldn’t love her like that anymore. He doesn’t know. But it was instinct to hold her; protect her. Because he’s still protective of her. He doesn’t want her to shatter and break to pieces.
“I wish it could be, too.” he whispers. “I really wish it could be.”
