Christmas with My Grumpy Ex (Feuding Hearts Christmas #1)

16. Chasm of Silence

16

CHASM OF SILENCE

ELLIE

I jolt awake, my heart racing. For a moment, I'm disoriented, the events of last night feeling like a distant nightmare. But as reality crashes back, the ache in my chest intensifies. I'm in my own bed, alone, the silence of my apartment a stark contrast to the bustling gala just hours ago.

My phone buzzes incessantly on the nightstand, a constant reminder of the world outside my bubble of misery. I reach for it, squinting at the bright screen. It's flooded with notifications - congratulatory messages, missed calls, interview requests. The gala was a resounding success, it seems. I should be ecstatic.

Instead, I feel hollow.

I force myself out of bed, my body protesting every movement. As I shuffle to the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes are puffy from crying, mascara smudged across my cheeks. I barely recognize the woman staring back at me.

The hot water of the shower does little to wash away the memory of Max's words. "She's... she's a friend. I'm not sure what's next for us." They echo in my mind, a cruel mantra that won't let me forget.

I go through the motions of my morning routine, but it feels mechanical. My phone continues to buzz - a constant reminder of the professional triumph I should be celebrating. But how can I celebrate when my heart feels like it's been shattered into a million pieces?

As I pour myself a cup of coffee, my eyes land on the scrapbook sitting on the kitchen counter. The one I've been working on for Amelia. My throat tightens as I think of her sweet face, her excitement about our "family" outings. God, how am I going to explain this to her?

I flip open the scrapbook, and immediately wish I hadn't. There we are - Max, Amelia, and me - ice skating at Bryant Park. We look so happy, so... right together. Tears blur my vision as I trace my finger over Max's face. How could he do this to us? To me?

My phone buzzes again, startling me out of my reverie. It's Zoe, my assistant. I take a deep breath, steeling myself before answering.

"Ellie! Oh my God, have you seen the news? We're trending! The gala is all anyone can talk about!" Zoe's excitement is palpable, even through the phone.

I force a smile into my voice. "That's great, Zoe. Really great."

"Are you okay? You sound... off." Damn her perceptiveness.

"Just tired," I lie. "It was a long night."

"I bet! Listen, I'm heading to the office now. We've got about a million calls to return and at least three major publications want to do feature stories on you. This is huge, Ellie!"

"Yeah, it is," I agree, my voice hollow. "I'll be there soon. Just need to finish up a few things here first."

I hang up before she can question me further. The silence of my apartment feels oppressive now. I move to my desk, opening my laptop. The cursor blinks at me, waiting.

I open a new email draft. The subject line glares at me: "Resignation from Wellington Christmas Gala Contract."

My fingers hover over the keys. This is it. The smart thing to do. Cut ties, protect my heart, move on. But as I start to type, memories flood my mind.

Max's laughter as we decorated the Christmas tree in his penthouse. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at me. Amelia's excited squeals as we built snowmen in Central Park. The warmth of Max's arms around me as we slow-danced in his living room.

Tears stream down my face as I type, each word feeling like a knife to my heart.

"Dear Mr. Wellington,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to formally resign from my position as event coordinator for the Wellington Christmas Charity Gala..."

I pause, my fingers trembling over the keys. Am I really doing this? Am I really walking away from everything - from Max, from Amelia, from the family I thought I was becoming a part of?

I think back to last night, to the look on Max's face when he saw Laura's parents. The hesitation in his voice as he called me "just a friend." The pain is still raw, still burning.

But beneath that pain, there's something else. A tiny flicker of hope that refuses to die. What if Max realizes his mistake? What if he comes back, fighting for us?

I shake my head, angry at myself for even entertaining the thought. He had his chance. He chose to deny our relationship, to push me away. I deserve better than that.

Don't I?

I continue typing, pouring my professional regrets into the email. But with each word, I feel like I'm sealing my fate. Closing the door on any possibility of reconciliation.

As I near the end of the email, my finger hovers over the 'send' button. This is it. The point of no return. Once I hit send, there's no going back. No more Max, no more Amelia, no more dreams of the family I thought we could be.

My phone buzzes again, startling me. It's a text from Quanie.

"Ellie, please call me. Max is a mess. What happened last night?"

My heart clenches. Max is a mess? Part of me wants to laugh bitterly. He's a mess? What about me? But another part - the part that still loves him despite everything - aches to know he's hurting too.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. The smart thing would be to hit send. To walk away with my head held high, to focus on my skyrocketing career and leave the Wellingtons behind.

But when have I ever done the smart thing when it comes to Max?

I save the draft, closing my laptop without sending the email. I'm not ready. Not yet. Maybe it's foolish, maybe I'm setting myself up for more heartbreak, but I can't bring myself to close that door completely.

Not when there's still a tiny part of me that hopes Max will fight for us.

I grab my coat and head out the door. I need to get to the office, to face the whirlwind of success that awaits me. But as I lock up, I can't help but glance at my phone one more time.

No missed calls from Max. No texts. Nothing.

The elevator ride down feels endless. I lean against the wall, closing my eyes. The contrast between my professional high and personal low is dizzying. I should be on top of the world right now. Instead, I feel like I'm drowning.

As I step out onto the bustling New York street, the crisp winter air bites at my cheeks. Christmas decorations line the storefronts, twinkling lights strung between buildings. It all feels like a cruel joke now. Where's the Christmas magic I was so sure existed just days ago?

I hail a cab, giving the driver the address of my office. As we weave through traffic, I stare out the window, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

The gala was everything I'd hoped for professionally. It's launched my career into the stratosphere. I should be ecstatic, planning my next big move, reveling in the success I've worked so hard for.

Instead, all I can think about is Max. The way he looked at me when we danced. The softness in his eyes when he watched me with Amelia. The passion in his kiss when we made love.

And then, the hesitation. The doubt. The way he stepped back when faced with his past.

The cab pulls up to my office building, jolting me back to reality. I pay the driver and step out, taking a deep breath before entering.

The moment I walk through the doors, I'm hit with a wave of excitement. The office is buzzing, phones ringing off the hook, people rushing about with purpose.

"Ellie!" Zoe exclaims, rushing over to me. "Thank God you're here. We've got People Magazine on line one, the Today Show wants to book you for next week, and I've got a stack of new client requests a mile high!"

I paste on a smile, slipping into professional mode. This is what I wanted, isn't it? This is the success I've been working towards for years.

So why does it feel so empty?

I spend the next few hours fielding calls, scheduling interviews, reviewing potential new projects. It's a whirlwind of activity, and for brief moments, I'm able to lose myself in the work. But every time I have a second to breathe, my mind drifts back to Max.

Has he tried to call? Has he even noticed I'm gone? Does he care?

By mid-afternoon, I'm emotionally exhausted. I retreat to my office, closing the door behind me. The silence is a relief after the constant buzz of activity outside.

I sink into my chair, my eyes landing on the framed photo on my desk. It's from the day at Bryant Park - Max, Amelia, and me, our cheeks rosy from the cold, smiles wide and genuine. We look like a family.

The ache in my chest intensifies. I pick up the frame, tracing Max's face with my finger. "Why?" I whisper. "Why wasn't I enough?"

A knock at the door startles me. I hastily wipe away the tears I didn't realize had fallen, setting the photo face-down on my desk.

"Come in," I call, trying to keep my voice steady.

Zoe pokes her head in, her excitement palpable. "Ellie, you're not going to believe this. Vogue wants to do a feature on you for their 'Women in Business' issue. This is huge!"

I force a smile. "That's... that's amazing, Zoe. Can you schedule it for next week? I need to... prepare."

Zoe's excitement falters, concern creeping into her expression. "Ellie, are you okay? You've seemed off all day. Did something happen at the gala?"

I open my mouth to reassure her, to brush it off as just being tired. But to my horror, I feel tears welling up in my eyes.

"Oh, Ellie," Zoe says softly, closing the door behind her. She rushes over, pulling me into a hug. "What happened?"

And just like that, the dam breaks. I sob into Zoe's shoulder, all the pain and heartbreak I've been holding back pouring out of me.

Between hiccuping sobs, I tell her everything. About Max, about Laura's parents, about the crushing realization that I'll never be enough for him.

Zoe listens, rubbing soothing circles on my back. When I finally fall silent, she pulls back, looking me in the eye.

"Ellie, listen to me. You are amazing. You've just pulled off one of the most successful events in New York's social calendar. You're about to be featured in Vogue. Your career is skyrocketing. Don't let one man, no matter how much you love him, make you forget your worth."

I nod, wiping away my tears. "You're right. I know you're right. It's just... I really thought he was the one, you know?"

Zoe squeezes my hand. "I know. And maybe he still is. But right now, you need to focus on you. On this incredible success you've achieved. The rest will sort itself out."

I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. Zoe's right. I can't let my personal heartbreak overshadow my professional triumph. I've worked too hard for this.

"Okay," I say, straightening my shoulders. "You're right. Let's do this. Book that Vogue interview."

Zoe grins, giving me one last hug before heading out to make the arrangements. As the door closes behind her, I turn to look out the window. The New York skyline stretches out before me, a world of possibilities at my fingertips.

I've achieved everything I've ever wanted professionally. I should be on top of the world. But as I stand there, looking out at the city I love, I can't shake the feeling that something's missing.

Or someone.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of phone calls, meetings, and planning sessions. By the time I finally head home, the sun has long since set, the city alive with twinkling Christmas lights.

As I unlock my apartment door, the silence hits me like a physical force. No excited chatter from Amelia about her day at school. No warm embrace from Max, asking how the interviews went.

Just... silence.

I drop my keys on the side table, my eyes landing on the scrapbook. Without thinking, I pick it up, flipping through the pages. Each photo, each memento, is a reminder of what I've lost. Of what I never really had.

I curl up on the couch, hugging the scrapbook to my chest. The Christmas tree in the corner, the one I decorated with such hope and excitement, now feels like a cruel joke. Its twinkling lights mock me, a reminder of the magic I thought I'd found.

My phone buzzes, and for a moment, my heart leaps. But it's just another congratulatory message about the gala. I toss the phone aside, closing my eyes.

I've achieved everything I've ever wanted professionally. My career is soaring to heights I never dreamed possible. I should be ecstatic.

Instead, I'm sitting alone in my apartment, clutching a scrapbook full of memories of a family that was never really mine.

I look at the Christmas tree, at the ornaments Amelia and I picked out together. At the star on top that Max lifted me up to place. "So much for Christmas magic," I whisper, my voice thick with unshed tears.

As I sit there in the quiet of my apartment, surrounded by the trappings of success but feeling utterly alone, I can't help but wonder: Is this really what I wanted? Is this really my happily ever after?

Or is it just the beginning of a story that's far from over?