On the twelfth day of Christmas...

Abby woke up on Christmas Eve and took a few minutes to remember where she was. She wasn’t hungover and didn’t have a headache, but she was in someone else’s bed.

          And that someone else was roughly six feet of darkly handsome male snuggled up against her back.

          The memories from the night before came back in a rush, not an unfamiliar sensation over the past week the way that things had been going. On the contrary, she didn’t make a habit of waking up in friend’s beds, especially not when they were men.

          But this wasn’t the morning after of some innocent sleepover if memory served correct. No, if her memory was indeed right then the whole episode that started with snuggling on the couch and ended up with the two of them in Damien’s bed then it was nowhere close to innocent.

          She slapped a hand over her mouth before a girly giggle could burst free. With a quick glance behind her to make sure that Damien was still asleep, Abby bolted out of bed and gathered up stray bits of clothes, pulling them on and making for the door.

          When she was safely away, down the street and sinking onto a seat on the Tube Abby finally gave herself the opportunity to let the events of the previous night sink in. She and Damien had slept together. Damien and she had had a shag. Or two. She had spent the night in his bed.

          A wide, side splitting smile crept across her face.

          She had never felt so amazingly incandescent in her entire life. She felt like a school girl who’d just had a first kiss with her crush, or like someone had told her Christmas was coming early this year. She was a little at a loss for the right words to actually express herself and shied away at asking the elderly woman beside her for help.

          But she forced herself to rein it in a little in lieu of the secret admirer that was still rather prevalent in her current situation.

          This, whilst amazing and wonderful and all sorts of magical, violated the terms she’d used to govern herself with in relation to her conduct before discovering the identity of her secret admirer.

          What was wrong with her? Damien crooks one finger at her and she throws herself at him like he’s oxygen she needs to breathe? She should have been far more ashamed than she actually was.

          Because she was a bad, bad person.

          Speaking of, it had been a really long time since Abby had done the walk of shame and thanked her lucky stars that she’d worn a pair of jeans and knit jumper under her coat the night before and didn’t look too out of place on the Tube. At home in the flat though it was another story and Abby had to make sure the coast was clear before making a mad dash to the bathroom to shower.

          She was already torn enough between the right and wrong of her situation without Jess giving her the evil eye.

          The last card was on her desk, a collection of red roses, holly branches and pine leaves in a vase with a red ribbon beside it. It embodied Christmas love and she felt pangs of guilt as she reached for the card, almost sure that the drummers were judging her.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, your true love gives to thee: twelve nights in Paris, eleven piping (hot) pictures, ten teas of England, a gown pimped to the nines, eight maidens in your favourite movies, seven swans for your favourite ballet, six aspirin and a decent lay-in, five golden trinkets, GTA on PS4, three French pens, two turtle gloves and a partridge named Frosty. I’ve given you one ticket, because that’s all you need. You don’t need someone to make an adventure for you or hold your hand; you’re strong and I know you can make it up on your own. But in case you change your mind, and you would like the company, I’ve got one for myself. If you decide that you want me. All I want for Christmas is you – X.

          All I want for Christmas is you. That was it then, she had no choice but to let things lie with Damien now that she knew how amazing it was between them. She owed it to her admirer, someone who had been better to her than anyone, knew her so well and treated her like an absolute queen for the past twelve days.

Not to mention twelve days in Paris! What? He must have known how badly she’d wanted to go and capitalised on it, bringing her fantasy to life and without even pressuring her to take him with her. It was the best gift she’d ever received, even more so than the tea set or the turtle gloves or the partridge, adorable as he was.

And she’d gone and slept with Damien. She was going to hell.

          So she did what any woman would do in the situation: she avoided Damien. All day. When she went to photocopy something and saw him standing not so far away, she post-it noted it for later. When she saw him in the staff room, she threw away her sandwich and went for sushi. When he came to knock on her office door, she actually hid under her desk and held her breath.

          No one had said she was the most mature, but she was just trying to be fair. Sort of.

          But hell did it hurt.

          Abby thought she was in the clear later when she made a quick trip to the ladies only to have a heart attack to find Damien sitting on her desk when she returned, leather-encased ankles crossed. He didn’t look massively happy.

          “You bailed this morning.”

          She didn’t have time for a light-hearted response, nor could she think of one. “I did. I’m sorry.”

           He nodded. “Why?”

          “I’m sorry, Damien, really. But you know how things are right now with the secret admirer, what we did was wonderful,” she didn’t meet his eyes at that; slightly worried he was going to say it was a mistake. “But I have to do the right thing by him – whoever he is. He deserves a real chance and my full attention.”

          Damien nodded again, lips a thin line. “I see.”

          “So, I’m sorry, Dee. I really am. We never should have let it get that out of hand last night, even if it was what I’d wanted for so long.”

          She looked up again and Damien had hopped off the desk and taken a few steps towards her.

          “Well, Merry Christmas, Abby,” He said, with a wry smile. He gave her a brief  nod then moved past her towards the doorway.

          “Merry Christmas,” she whispered back, unsure if he heard her because when she turned to look he was already gone.

         

          Most of the office staff left around two o’clock with the last few out before two thirty, but Abby worked a bit later feeling a little less than festive.

          Jess knocked on the door before she left to check in on her.

          “Hey, I’m heading home now – will you be home late? Don’t forget we’ve got Christmas breakfast tomorrow morning before we head off for our family time. I’ll pick up some extra things from M&S on the way home. Do you want anything in particular?”

          Abby shook her head, eyes trained on the slightly tear-stained manuscript in front of her. “No, that’s ok, Jess; I think we’ve got pretty much everything. I’ll see you at home.”

          Jess nodded, twining the scarf around her neck. “I’ll head off then. But before I do, here.” She came forward and placed a tiny card and cinnamon stick wrapped in Christmas ribbon onto Abby’s desk. “Your admirer gave me this to give to you.” Abby gasped in surprise and looked up at her friend. “Go get him, Abby,” she smiled.

          Then she blew her a kiss and left. And Abby was alone in the office.

          She put aside her manuscript, her red pens and her post-its, and reached for the card.  

Do you want me or not, circle yes or no; Baby, I’d go crazy if you meet me at the mistletoe – X.

          Beneath the inscription there was ‘yes’ and ‘no’ written in silver, standing out against the rest.

          This was it – this was finally the end and Abby was going to come face to face with X. Could she? Did she want to?

          Yes.

          She needed to know, and as much as she’d loved him for so long now she knew that she couldn’t just wait for Damien forever to realise that she was the one. Even after last night. She had to be open to the possibility of meeting someone who could reciprocate her feelings, and where better to start than with someone who cared enough to have spent the last twelve days showering her with affection.

          Abby grabbed her hat, scarf and coat and made a beeline for the elevator.

          Mistletoe could be hung pretty much anywhere, but there was only one place that she knew her admirer would be waiting. The black London cab that she’d hailed took her straight to Covent Garden, where the giant hedge reindeer and Christmas tree would soon pull into view with their magic as she drew closer to her destiny.

          Covent Garden at Christmas was usually teaming with people; wreaths hung everywhere and windows were frosted both by mock snow and by the cold in homage to the Dickensian days past.

          Abby was dropped off at the corner of Long Acre and Neal Street, not too far from the tea shop. She paid her driver and stopped to take a deep breath before forcing her feet to move closer towards the Apple markets.

          It was Christmas Eve, and there were people all around marvelling at the decor, the lights and accumulating last minute presents before the big day.

          She had never felt so full of Christmas spirit than at that moment, tiptoeing closer and closer towards the multi-coloured lights of the historic Covent Garden marketplace. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest as she rounded the corner and stepped into the centre of the market, right across from Punch and Judy.

          The note hadn’t been clear after that and she found herself panicking for a moment, unsure whether to go to the left, towards the Christmas tree, or to the right towards the reindeer. People were everywhere, chattering loudly around her and she needed a second to compose herself.

          Abby closed her eyes, reflecting on the past twelve days. There had been reindeers and trees and snowmen and angels. There were presents and lessons and memories made. But one thing that had never changed was her intuition; she’d always followed it.

          And then she knew. Abby opened her eyes, clarity dawning, and turned to the left towards the tree. A few years ago it had been a kissing tree, its lights powered by kisses, just like the mistletoe tradition. That was where she needed to go.

          She moved like a wind sprite, slowing just as the large and glittering tree finally came into view, and with it answering the question she’d been pondering for what had felt like forever: the identity of her secret admirer.

Damien stood in front of the tree, beneath a sprig of mistletoe tied to the archway above his head, a wide smile on his lips and a small, beautifully wrapped gift in his arms.

          “Are you surprised?” he asked somewhat sheepishly, as Abby drew near in shock and awe.

          He must have noticed how low her jaw had dropped when she’d first seen him, the look of utter disbelief that had crossed her face.

          “You have no idea,” she whispered, tears started to build in her eyes and she thought that keeping her voice low would disguise the catch in her words.

          But as a fat tear escaped from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek, Damien drew up a hand to brush it away. “Hey, now.” His smile disappeared and was replaced with consternation, fear. “What’s all this? Please don’t be very angry with me. Are you disappointed it was me?”

          Abby bit her lip, emphatically shaking her head but refused to meet his eyes. “No.” Then her voice finally broke. “Because I was so hoping that it would be you!”

          Then she was in his arms, his lips meeting hers beneath the mistletoe and for the first time in forever it felt like her greatest wish was finally coming true.

          Damien had been X all along, he would tell her later. It wouldn’t matter to her when he’d first loved her because he did then, and he had proved it beyond the shadow of a doubt for the past twelve days. Oh, she’d kill him later for the turmoil of the day and all the confusion, he sure had that coming, but not until after the New Year.

          Christmas was a time for miracles, magic and new beginnings. It was a time for wishes and love and giving, and Abby felt like she had just been granted the greatest gift of all.

          It was the best Christmas she could have ever asked for, and as Damien kissed her that cold Christmas Eve she was happier than she had ever been in her life.

          Damien had given her Twelve days of Christmas, but the best gift he ever could have given her was himself; and she got to keep him long after the holidays were over.

          Wishes really did come true because this was truly Abby’s merriest Christmas of all.

I hoped you enjoyed Abby Leightley's Greatest Christmas like I did, whether it touched your heart or not. I had a whirl of a time writing it and I certainly went on a bit of a journey myself. 

Abby learnt some very valuable lessons and made some wonderful memories on the way, as I hope becomes true for everyone this Christmas. Wherever you are and whoever you're with I wish you all the best and a very happy holidays. May all your wishes come true. 

Merry Christmas

Sam xox