1.Xavier's cheating

ONE MONTH BEFORE CHRISTMAS

ISABELLA'S POINT OF VIEW:

Snow fell in lazy spirals, catching the glow of the golden lights strung along the eaves of our house. I stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup as the smell of rosemary and garlic filled the air. My hands moved mechanically, chopping vegetables and seasoning with precision, but my mind was elsewhere. Xavier sat in the living room, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. He hadn’t said much since he came home, just a distracted 'smells good' before settling into his usual spot. I glanced at him through the doorway, my heart sinking. This wasn’t the life I had dreamed of. Our marriage, arranged by our families, had been more a merger than a union of hearts.

"Dinner’s almost ready." I called.

"Okay." Xavier replied without looking up. His tone was indifferent, and it stung more than I wanted to admit.

I set the table with care, arranging the plates and silverware just so. The small touches mattered to me, even if they seemed invisible to him. When I brought the soup to the table, I decided to talk.

"Xavier, can we talk?"I asked.

He looked up, startled, as if noticing me for the first time that evening.

"About what?"He asked.

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the edge of my apron.

"About us. About this… distance between us."I said.

Xavier sighed, setting his phone down.

"Isabella, we’ve talked about this before. Things take time. It’s not like we chose this marriage."He said.

"I know." I said softly, my voice trembling. "But it’s been two years, Xavier. Two years, and I still feel like a stranger in my own home."

"What do you want me to say?" He asked, his tone defensive and colder than usual. That I’m sorry? That I’ll magically feel something I don’t?"

The words hit me like a slap. I looked away, blinking back tears.

"Do you even want this to work?"I asked.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he picked up his spoon and stirred his soup, as if searching for the right words.

"I’m trying, Isabella. But it’s not easy. You’re… you’re a good person. But sometimes I wonder if we’re just too different."He said.

"Too different? Xavier, we’re not just different. We’re strangers. And I… I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending that’s enough."I said.

He didn’t respond, his silence louder than any argument. The sound of the clock ticking on the wall filled the space between us. I stood up from the table and was about to leave the room when his words stopped me.

"Isabella." He said quietly, but I shook my head.

"Don’t." I whispered. "Not tonight."

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wedding photo on the nightstand. In the picture, we were smiling, our faces full of hope. Now, it felt like a cruel reminder of everything we weren’t. Yeasterday night, I stepped outside to clear my head, the snow crunching under my boots. That was when I heard it Xavier’s laughter, coming from the old pine tree near the fence. Curious, I moved closer, and saw it.

"Xavier." I whispered, my breath catching.

There he was, leaning close to another woman. The woman’s face, illuminated by the lights, was achingly familiar. My stomach churned as I recognized her: the woman from the photos Xavier kept hidden. His first love.

"I never stopped thinking about you." The woman said softly.

Xavier’s reply came like a dagger.

"Neither did I." He said.

I watched, paralyzed, as they kissed beneath the heavy branches of the pine. The frost biting my cheeks was nothing compared to the icy weight in my chest. I turned and walked back into the house, my movements almost too emotionless. I wanted to give him a chance today, but it seems that I had hoped for no good reason after all.

Right now I stood in the kitchen, staring at the divorce papers in my hands. My name was scrawled neatly at the bottom, alongside Xavier’s. My hands trembled, but not from doubt from the ending of our relationship. I loved him for a long time, but no matter how much I wanted him, she was the only one for him. I placed the papers on the dining table, the pen resting beside them. The house was silent except for the faint hum of the heater. The Christmas tree lights blinked cheerfully, mocking the emptiness I felt. Xavier was out, probably at work or maybe somewhere else. Somewhere I no longer cared to imagine. I slipped on my coat and boots, pausing only to glance at the stockings hanging above the fireplace. They looked so hopeful, so full of a future I couldn’t pretend to believe in anymore. I opened the door, stepping out into the cold. Snowflakes kissed my cheeks as I walked away, leaving behind the house, the memories, and the man who never truly saw me. The wind carried my footsteps into the night, erasing them as if I had never been there.

Inside, the papers waited for him to find. Divorce papers that he wanted so much in our two years of pointless marriage.

IN A MORNING

XAVIER'S POINT OF VIEW:

Snow now fell in lazy spirals, catching the glow of the golden lights strung along the walls of our house. I woke up to the faint chill of the empty bed beside me.

"Isabella?" I called out, my voice breaking the morning silence. No answer. I glanced at the clock it was late, much later than when she usually started her day. My stomach tightened as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, the cold floor biting at my feet. Something felt wrong. As I walked into the living room, the house seemed unnaturally quiet. My gaze swept across the room until it landed on the dining table. That’s when I saw them divorce papers, neatly placed in the center of the table. The sight hit me like a punch to the gut. I stepped closer, my eyes scanning the page. My name stared back at me in bold ink, followed by her signature at the bottom. A quiet, final goodbye. My hands trembled as I picked up the papers. She’d really done it. She’d left. For a moment, I stood there, staring at the papers, unable to move. Memories of the past two years flashed through my mind our wedding day, the quiet evenings spent together, the arguments, the distance that had grown between us. I’d known things weren’t perfect, but I hadn’t expected this. Not now. Not like this. I reached for my phone, my fingers fumbling as I unlocked it and dialed. The ringing felt endless until finally, Martha’s voice came through the line.

"Martha." I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "I need you to find Isabella. Check with her friends, her family… anyone who might know where she is."

"Sir, is everything alright?" She asked cautiously.

"Just do it." I snapped, running a hand through my hair. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Please. I need this done now."

"Understood." She replied, her tone brisk. "I’ll start making calls immediately."

I ended the call and sank into the nearest chair, the papers still clutched in my hand. The Christmas tree lights blinked faintly in the corner, their cheerfulness a cruel contrast to the emptiness that now filled the house. My eyes drifted to the fireplace, where her stocking still hung, untouched and mocking. I replayed the last few days in my mind, searching for signs I might have missed. She’d been quieter, more distant, but I’d chalked it up to the usual stress of the holidays. I’d told myself we had time to figure things out. But now, staring at her signature, I realized how wrong I’d been.

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows. I stood and paced the room, the weight of my failure pressing down on me. Where could she have gone? Was she safe? Did she even plan on coming back? Questions appeared in my mind, each one more painful than the last.

I stopped by the window, staring out at the snow covered yard. The old pine tree stood tall and silent, it was there, beneath that tree, where I’d made the worst mistake of my life. The memory of that night burned in my mind, the look on Isabella’s face when she saw me with her. She had no idea that I saw her watching us last night. How could I have been so blind? So careless?

I turned away from the window, the sight of the empty yard too much to bear. Grabbing my coat, I headed for the door. I couldn’t just sit here. I needed to find her, to explain, to do something. Anything.

As I stepped outside, the cold air bit at my skin, but I barely noticed. The snow crunched beneath my boots as I paused, glancing back at the house. The lights still glowed warmly from inside, but it felt like a hollow shell without her. I climbed into the car and started the engine, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"I’ll find you, Isabella." I whispered."And I’ll make this right."

The car rumbled to life, and I pulled out of the driveway, leaving behind the house and

the papers that had shattered my world. Somewhere out there, she was waiting. And I wouldn’t stop until I brought her back.