Can't Help Who I Fall For

Christmas morning. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I wasn’t expecting it to feel as lonely as it did. In previous years, I’d wake up to the smell of my dad’s infamous pancakes and the sound of lighthearted conversation going on between my parents. That morning, I woke up to silence and the smell of laundry detergent wafting from my comforter. I wasn't sure if my mom was awake yet or not, but if she was, then it was clear that she had no intention of keeping up with the tradition of a big breakfast.

I slowly climbed out of bed and headed towards the stairs. As I made my way down, I could pick up the slightest scent of coffee. I figured that meant mom was awake. I entered the kitchen to see her leaning up against the counter, still clad in pajamas, nursing a cup of the black liquid.

"Morning, mom," I said, stifling the yawn in the back of my throat.

She looked up at me and smiled. "Morning, baby. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," I returned, digging a mug out of the cupboard.

"So I know that we usually have pancakes for breakfast today," she said as I retrieved my favorite creamer from the refrigerator, "but I was thinking that we could try something different. Maybe French toast, or eggs, even."

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me." I knew that she was trying to make it seem like nothing was missing; like everything was normal. She'd yet to really talk to me about was happening with her and dad. I didn't know if he was ever going to come back or not, but I assumed not.

"Okay, great." She smiled again. "Why don't you get dressed, and I'll start breakfast?"

I nodded before heading back upstairs. Upon returning to my room, I saw that I had two unopened texts on my phone. I smiled when I saw the first was from Alex.

Merry Christmas Angel!! Can't wait to see you later!

Afterwards, he had put a bunch of heart and kissy-face emojis. I laughed to myself before typing out and sending an equally cringe worthy response.

The smile on my face dropped as soon as I saw who the other text was from. It was my dad. I almost didn't want to open it. After all of the pain he's caused over the last couple of months, I didn't want to hear from him. But sadly, curiosity took over, and I opened the text anyway.

Merry Christmas, son. I hope you and your mom have a great day. I'm sorry for the mess I've caused you both. Will you give me a call when you get the chance? Please.

I bit my lip and stared down at the message. I didn't want to respond, and I didn't want to call him. I just wanted him to disappear. I think it would've been so much easier if mom would've believed me the first time I told her—or, at least, quit her own act. Then maybe terms with my dad wouldn't have gotten so bad before she finally did give it up. I could forgive him for not loving her anymore—he couldn't help that—but I didn't know if I'd be able to forgive everything else he'd done.

I didn't want my mind to be weighed down by all of these heavy emotions on what should be a joyous day, so I pushed them to the back of my mind to deal with later. I knew I'd eventually have to call him, or at least text him back, but I just didn't want to deal with it at that moment, so I didn't.

Everything was awkward with my mom. It was obvious that she was trying to overcompensate for the lack of my father. I knew I should've been relieved that she was at least trying, but everything seemed so forced and wrong. It wasn't fair that when dad left, he took every sense of normality with him. The house felt so empty with just the two of us. At first I thought it would've been better without my father's practically vacant body wandering around, but instead it just felt haunted.

By the time Alex was supposed to show up, I could've almost cried with relief. Not because I wanted to see him (which, believe me, I did), but because I hoped he could relieve some of the tension and emptiness.

When I opened the door for him, I threw myself into his arms. He hesitantly returned my hug. "Is everything okay?" he whispered.

I shook my head. "Everything's just so awkward and forced. I thought it would get better now, but it's not."

"I'm so sorry, angel." His grip around me tightened. "It's going to get better eventually. You just have to give her—and yourself—some time to move on. I know you two aren't on the best terms with each other, but he's still your father."

"What if it doesn't get better?" I asked. I couldn't imagine living like this for the rest of the year, never mind any longer.

"Then I'll be here to try to make it just a little more bearable." He kissed the side of my head.

"Jack, is that Alex at the door?" I heard my mom yell from the other room. That snapped me back into reality. I pulled back from my boyfriend and dragged him into the house. My mom walked into the room and smiled. “Merry Christmas, Alex.”

Alex nodded. “You, too, Mrs. Barakat. Did you two have a nice morning?” he asked, making small talk.

“We did,” mom responded. “Very peaceful.”

Alex threw a look my way and bit his lip. It was like he could tell how bad it really was. I hated that we were avoiding the problem. I wanted to know what was happening, but she wouldn’t tell me.

“We’re going to go upstairs for a little bit, okay?” I said, tugging Alex towards the stairs.

“Okay, but not too long,” mom called after us. “I made gingerbread cookies, and maybe the three of us can watch a movie later.”

When we reached my bedroom I shut the door behind us before sitting on the bed. Alex joined me and gave me a sad smile.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” he said, putting his hand on my thigh.

I shrugged. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know,” he responded, taking his coat off. “I just hate that you’re so unhappy here.”

“It’s not all bad,” I assured him. “It just feels empty, is all. Like, she just pretends like everything’s okay when it’s not.”

“I wish I could make it better.” He frowned.

“You do,” I responded. “Just by being here with me. I’m really happy with you.”

He smiled. “I’m glad. All I want is for you to be happy.”

I nodded. “Let me put your coat somewhere,” I said, gesturing to the piece of clothing in his lap.

“Wait a second,” he said, digging something out of his pocket. "This is for you," Alex said shyly, handing me an envelope. "It's not much, but I really hope you like it..."

I smiled at my boyfriend. "Of course I'll love it because I—it's from you."

I could feel the three words that I'd been purposely avoiding on the tip of my tongue. I was almost certain that he'd heard me say that I loved him when I was arguing with my dad that night. It worried me at first that he didn't at least bring it up. I was scared that him not returning my feelings would complicate things. I soon realized that, even though most people don't fall in love after three months, Alex wasn't the type that would exploit my feelings.

I had, however, decided to keep it to myself for a little while longer. Just until I was sure that he felt the same way. I wasn't sure how long it would take, but I was certain that one day I'd make that boy fall in love with me. So I did what was slowly becoming a common theme for the day: I pushed my feelings to the back of my mind to deal with later.

"Are you going to open it?" Alex encouraged, blushing lightly.

I smiled and felt my cheeks heat up before gently tearing the edge of the envelope. What I pulled out surprised me a bit. It was a green and brown origami Christmas tree. The tree itself was decorated with what looked like colored pencil and on the stem was written, To: Jack, From: Alex with a bunch of hearts drawn around it.

I smiled and looked up at him. "Pumpkin, this is really cute!"

He shook his head and blushed. "Unfold it. Something's written on the inside."

I almost didn't want to unfold it. It looked like he had put some work into getting it to look like a tree, and I didn't want to ruin it. But at the same time, I was curious as to what he had written. Of course, my curiosity won, and I carefully unfolded the tree.

I felt tears well in my eyes when I read what was written on the paper:

Angel, I want you to know that I'll always be yours. Merry Christmas, I love you!

I looked up at him to see he was looking at his lap, face bright red. In that moment I wanted to cry, laugh, and kiss him all at the same time. I couldn't believe that he actually felt the same way I did, I was so sure that he didn't. Not yet, at least. I felt all of the love for him that I had previously pushed back come bubbling up again. That time, I let it.

"Alex..." I breathed out, my voice no louder than a whisper. I couldn't help but stare at him as he sheepishly looked up at me, lip caught between his teeth. "Do you mean this?"

He nodded slowly, still avoiding eye contact. I felt a grin break out on my face, and I instantly felt like I was flying. All of the awkwardness and loneliness of the day instantly left my mind because the boy I was in love with just so happened to love me, too. I jumped across my bed onto him, which caused us both to fall backwards. I kissed him hastily, grabbing his face in my hands. I could tell he was shocked because it took a few seconds for him to respond.

I pulled back to look at the slightly exasperated expression on his face. "Say it," I said, smiling at him. "Please, say it."

I could feel his heartbeat speed up and his face turned even redder. "I—I love you, Jack."

I collapsed onto him again, burying my face in his shoulder. "I love you, too," I mumbled into his neck.

His arms instantly wrapped around my waist before he rolled us over onto the side so that we were facing each other.

"Really?" he asked, smiling hopefully at me.

"Of course," I exclaimed. "How could I not?"

He shrugged, blushing again. "I heard you tell your dad that you did when you were fighting that night, but I wasn't sure if you meant it or not."

"I did," I assured him. "I do."

"That's all I could ever want," he mumbled, pulling me closer and kissing my forehead.

I snuggled into his chest, relishing in the fact that the day had gone from being terrible to amazing. It was strange to think that after I'd spent so many years pining after him, we'd made it here. Together, mutually happy and in love. It felt like everything was perfect.

"I love you, pumpkin," I whispered, satisfied with the fact that I would be able to say it whenever I wanted.

"I love you, too, angel," he responded instantly.

Notes