It was your first Christmas since your break up. God, you despised it. Despised seeing him and watching him, and knowing you could never touch him.

On Christmas morning, you were at home, casually watching tv and trying not to break down when the doorbell rung. You swung the door open but no one was there.

Left on your doorstep was a bouquet of red roses with a wrapped gift beside it. On a little piece of paper, you read:

Merry Christmas, baby. -J