Merry Christmas – A Spashley Oneshot

The scent of pine needles lingered as I inhaled the Christmas Eve air. Normally this smell would fill me with joy, immediately bringing a smile to my face. This smell usually meant time spent happily with my family, friends, and most important of all, Ashley. The aroma reminded me of this season, in which something indescribable usually filled us all: it was a crazy, inexplicable, and potent type of love – one that forgot all negative circumstances and just reveled in the company of one another.

            This Christmas Eve, the scent filled me with nostalgia – a seemingly distant memory of this bliss, rather than the experience of truly feeling it. My heart twisted with longing; what I would give to have that feeling back, to be wrapped in her arms and know that my world was at peace. Unfortunately this wasn’t the first Christmas Eve that the feeling was missing. The memory of last Christmas was splayed ever presently across the front of my mind. At the time, I thought to dismiss it – so what if we had a less-than-perfect Christmas? Whatever our problems were, we’d work them out over the next year. Little did I know, it was the start of a new chapter of our lives. A chapter that would find me here this Christmas, staring at a skewed version of myself in a glass ball ornament, a tear trickling down my cheek.

            “I can’t believe the guitar is gone” I heard her mumble from the kitchen. “Raife Davies’s guitar. Sold by his own daughter.” I sighed.

            “I told you not to sell it.” I replied, wiping the tear from my face and sniffing.

            “What did you want me to do, Spencer? We need the money. There’s a little something called rent.”

            “We would have found another way” The words flowed through my lips effortlessly, as if they had been memorized from saying this very thing many times over. I had. “There’s always another way.”

            “Jesus Christ, Spencer, be realistic for a second, will you?” She turned and stared at me incredulously. I waited a few moments before speaking.

            “Well that’s not sacrilegious or anything. On Christmas Eve, no less.” I knew it was lame that the only thing I responded to was her use of ‘Jesus Christ’, but I really wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation again. There was a long pause.