White Christmas Ch 01

The little piece of stationary paper seemed to taunt her.

An innocuous register of starred, underlined, and highlighted dates, times, names, and tasks, bordered by pretty foil-pressed roses, it was the checklist accounting for everything Ellie needed to coordinate and execute within the next three days.

And she had no idea how she would succeed.

Seven

airport pickups. Grocery shopping. Pharmacy. Laundry. Cleaning. Menu planning. Meal prepping. Activity planning. Activity reservations. Cooking. Baking. Decorating. Gift shopping. Gift returning. Gift wrapping...

Each task was simple and unsophisticated, nowhere near the level of complexity her husband dealt with every day in his office, but still Ellie felt as if her list was insurmountable. Her job, if it could even be called that, was simple. Logically, she knew that. But a familiar, metallic weight began to lower onto her chest, the gnawing ache that reminded her that here was yet one more thing she was a failure at.

Another basic duty she couldn't fulfill.

The weight grew even heavier, and her heart began to race in panicked reaction. Her vision blurred as a powerful dizzy spell overcame her, and she fell to the floor, unable to keep her balance. She sharply inhaled and exhaled in an attempt to calm down. She did

not

have the time for another panic attack. Unfortunately, her efforts proved increasingly futile, as her pulse continued to dangerously escalate.

But before the weight in her chest could completely suffocate her, the sound of her phone ringing provided a temporary distraction.

Ellie answered without looking at the caller ID.

"This is Ellie," she said automatically, hoping the caller didn't hear her tears.

"Hey sweetheart...I finally got a break so I figured I'd call. How are you doing?"

The sound of her husband's voice, all bass and assured, seemed to pull her a few inches closer to earth. It was the sound of something familiar, and almost safe.

It was something she could focus on.

"Everything is fine here. I'm, umm...just about to go to the grocery store. Are you going to be able to make the therapy appointment tonight?" Ellie asked softly.

The faint pause before David spoke indicated that he had forgotten.

Again.

"I'm so sorry, Ellie...we're probably not going to wrap up here until at least eight or nine. But I promise you, I won't miss the next one," he replied.

Ellie swallowed hard and took several deep, slow breaths, in an attempt to hide the fresh set of stinging tears that were now erupting from her eyes.

He'd been saying the same thing for over two months, ever since she'd first started going to therapy, and at

his

behest, no less. David had only ever been able to attend one session with her, and after arriving over twenty minutes late.

At first, she'd thought that maybe he was simply too busy to go to therapy. As the CEO of the large financial firm he'd inherited from his father, her husband often worked long, unpredictable hours. There was no denying that his time was valuable, for he worked tirelessly to bring record successes to the company and all of its interests.

He did, however, have two dedicated assistants, in addition to a receptionist. Surely they could have helped him manage his schedule to include a therapy appointment or two.

Then she'd wondered if he was simply embarrassed about the thought of going to therapy. He was a very public face in their city, after all. Maybe he was concerned about his image, perceiving therapy as a sign of weakness.

But then again,

he'd

been the one to originally suggest therapy in the first place.

She tried to halt her thoughts from sinking to the familiar, dangerous depth of paranoia, but unfortunately she was feeling too fragile to maintain any kind of strong mental barrier.

For the last several weeks, Ellie had been plagued by the nagging, gut feeling that the real reason her husband could not make a therapy session, or a single dinner, or doctor's appointment, or charity event, or date, was because his calendar was increasingly occupied by the accomplished and beautiful Sabrina Taylor.

"Ellie...baby are you crying?" she heard David say.

Ellie sniffled and quickly wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She couldn't fall apart into a blubbering mess, not even on the phone with her husband. She re-reminded herself that she didn't have the time for it.

And obviously, neither did he.

"No. It's just my allergies. I'm fine," Ellie lied.

"Okay...I'll check in again a bit later, I need to head back inside. Love you."

And then, there was silence.

That heavy weight began to lower in her chest again, and Ellie pushed herself off of the floor before she could fully succumb to its power. She was too scared and fragile to think about the likely possibility of her husband having an affair, for just the thought was overwhelmingly painful.

And in her current state of extended weakness, Ellie couldn't handle any more pain.

It would destroy her.

So Ellie decided to focus on the fact that it was three days until Christmas. And there was a lot she had to do to prepare for the arrival of her husband's family.

The itinerary, the house, the food, the presents...it was the one thing she could control, and she needed everything to be

perfect

.

******

"Ellie, come on in. Just you tonight?" Dr. Cole asked. Ellie shyly nodded and clutched her coat closer to her body.

"Yes, umm...David had to work late," Ellie replied, not believing her own words.

And judging by the look on the therapist's face, the respected Dr. Anna Cole didn't believe her either.

"Well, that's okay. We've been making a lot of progress one-on-one, haven't we?" Anna offered kindly.

Ellie shrugged her shoulders. Some days, she did feel better after sessions with the doctor.

But other days, she felt worse.

She had a feeling that today was going to be one of those latter, undesirable days.

"Why don't we pick up where we left off last week. You were just starting to tell me about your plans for the holidays," Anna mentioned, opening her leather journal. She put on a slim pair of reading glasses, and smiled in that genial, approachable way that made her such an easy person to talk to.

Ellie knew it was inappropriate, far beyond doctor-patient protocol, but she couldn't help but feel like Anna was a second mother figure to her.

Anna had been her one, consistent source of kindness and support during the most difficult period of her life.

"That's right...my husband's family is going to be flying in, starting tomorrow. They'll be staying at the house through New Year's," Ellie mentioned. The doctor nodded.

"Who's flying in?" Anna asked. Ellie shivered as she remembered again just how many airport pickups she had.

"Well, there's his mother, Elizabeth, and her new husband Henry. And his sister, Caroline, and, umm...her husband Mark and their two children, Timothy and...Scott. Then there's his brother Liam, along with his fiancée Gemma, and their daughter Maggie...his half-brother Kevin, and his uncle Frank, and cousins Oliver, Richard and...Brian, along with their spouses. I haven't met all of them yet," Ellie recounted. Anna's eyes widened.

"It sounds like you're going to have a very full house. Interesting you are only referring to them as "his" relatives, though. You've been married almost three years, Ellie. They're your family too," Anna mentioned.

Ellie began to blush in embarrassment.

"Sorry...I suppose it's a habit. I feel there are clearer words used for talking about in-laws in Swedish.

Svärmor

.

Sväger

..." Ellie tried to rationalize. But even she knew it was a weak point. Her "otherness" was very obvious to the therapist.

Ellie had always been an outsider in her husband's family, especially to his conservative mother. She was the foreigner, the pitiful immigrant from the wrong country, and the wrong generation, who spoke with an accent, needed things repeated, and couldn't understand most jokes and cultural references.

"Well speaking of family...why don't you tell me how you're feeling about David," Anna said, clearing a fresh page of paper.

"I love him. With all of my heart. That hasn't changed," Ellie answered quickly. Anna frowned.

"But

something

has changed," Anna noted. Ellie sighed sadly.

"I think I fear him. I think I fear...what's happening to us. He seems more a stranger to me than ever. I hardly even see him anymore. He's always working, or..." Ellie admitted, words breaking due to her tears. Anna's frown softened sympathetically, and she extended a box of tissues to Ellie.

"Or what, Ellie?"

Ellie lowered her gaze to the now soaked sheets of tissue in her hands.

"Well, he's been spending a lot of time with this woman—"

"Sabrina Taylor?" Anna interrupted. Ellie's eyes widened fearfully.

"How did you know?" she asked, voice rising. Had David told their therapist that he was having an affair?

Before Anna could speak, Ellie nervously waved her hands. If it was true, if Anna knew something...she wasn't prepared to hear it out loud.

At least, not today.

She needed to make it through the holidays first.

"Can we please talk about something else," Ellie begged, pitiful to her own ears.

"Ellie, I really think we should—"

"Please, Anna. Please," Ellie pleaded. Anna sighed, and dropped her eyes to her notes.

"It's been a while since we've talked about the miscarriage, Ellie. Would you like to talk about that?"

Ellie sank further into the sofa as fresh tears erupted from her eyes, blinding her.

And for the next forty-five minutes, there was nothing but raw pain.

******

There was one benefit to her checklist, Ellie thought as she crawled into bed, alone, a few minutes beyond midnight.

Her tasks left her tired enough to fall asleep.

Her trip to the grocery store after her therapy appointment had taken nearly two hours, for the checkout lines were overextended with desperate last-minute shoppers. Afterwards, she'd gone to the local butcher for holiday roasts, and then the pharmacy, picking up the latest refill of David's specialty vitamins and muscle relaxers, as well as her birth control, and the depression and sleep medicine prescribed by Dr. Cole that Ellie still refused to take.

She'd returned home and unpacked the groceries, deciding to prepare a full dinner for her husband out of habit, even though she knew he was likely eating with his employees or clients.

Or Sabrina.

Dejectedly, Ellie packed and sealed the food in the refrigerator as soon as everything was fully cooked.

Feeling restless, Ellie had decided to start cleaning the downstairs portions of the house. She scrubbed and waxed the marble floors, vacuumed the rugs and curtains, and dusted and polished every open surface.

By the time she'd finished, it was after eleven.

The hot shower had done little to settle her nerves, but by the time her head hit the pillow, she was so exhausted she could

almost

trick herself into feeling relaxed.

Ellie sadly stared at the shadowed, empty bedroom, remembering a not too distant time when it had been a playground of love, a blooming garden of fleshly pleasures that had left both of them sweating and breathless. But now, the room was like a mausoleum, a solemn, barren reminder that the intimacy in their marriage was long dormant, if not dead already.

Instinctively, she pulled her arms around her stomach and bent her knees, curling her body into a fetal position, before closing her eyes and allowing herself to drift off to sleep.

It felt like hours later that she was gently pulled back to consciousness by the feeling of the bed shifting under the weight of a new occupant.

Ellie kept her eyes closed as a large, muscular arm pulled her back against a hard torso. She could tell that he was still partially dressed in his suit, for the crisp cotton of his expensive shirt seemed to tickle the bare skin of her arms.

His wide palm splayed across her stomach, stroking the length of her abdomen in a tender massage. When his lips lowered to her neck, Ellie couldn't contain her automatic soft cry of pleasure.

"Mmm...there's my good girl," David rumbled suggestively. His hand lowered to her hip, pulling her tighter against his body, pressing her buttocks directly against his erection.

Ellie's heart hammered frantically. A part of her was desperate to have her husband touch her, for she missed his expert lovemaking terribly. He'd been her first and only lover, and everything she knew about sex was what he taught her, and what she explored with him.

And when they were happy, it was wonderful. She loved him rough, she loved him gentle, and she loved every way he pleasured her in between. He was her husband and her sex god, naturally dominant and nurturing, and she his willing sexual slave, his personal whore eager to satisfy any desire he demanded.

But now, she was terrified of her instinctive reactions, the immediate wetness that began to pool between her legs as his hand slid up beneath her t-shirt. Her panties suddenly felt too tight, the room too hot, and the air too thick, as her body automatically readied for him, despite her mind's protests.

"D-David...I'm quite tired," Ellie said softly. She hated the instant shiver of excitement that shot through her body at the sound of his answering chuckle.

She squealed in surprise when he suddenly pushed her onto her back, immediately mounting her before she could wriggle away. She tried to protest, but the sight of him in the moonlight immediately took her words away from her.

"Then let me do all the work, love. All you need to do is lie back and open your legs for me," he replied.

Ellie bit her lip to hide her whimper, but her clit throbbed in reawakening need. He was handsome to a lethal degree, every aspect of his body designed to corrupt and seduce even the most pious of women with maddening lusts. His sharply trimmed black hair sexily hung forward as he stared down at her, as his golden brown eyes smoldered with a promise of carnal delights.

But it was his smile that truly subdued her — the devious, arrogant smirk that seemed to pull her panties directly off of her legs.

Ellie breathed heavily and fluttered her eyelashes in a feeble attempt to maintain control over her shameless impulses. But before she could speak, David lowered his head to her chest, trailing kisses down her body as his large hands pushed her shirt up above her breasts.

Her whimpers grew into needy moans as his head lowered, leaving wet, teasing kisses along the bare, sensitive skin of her lower stomach as his hand began manipulating her breasts. He squeezed hard, rolling her nipples between his fingers, as another hand caressed her legs beneath the silky sheets of their bed.

He moaned against her lower belly, tickling her, and Ellie felt herself automatically extending and rolling her pelvis in need. David immediately seized her hips, roughly hooking his fingers in her panties, before yanking them down her thighs with a powerful tug.

Ellie cried out loudly, the thrumming pressure in her needy pussy close to unbearable, and she swallowed her pride as David slowly separated her legs, with no resistance.

There was no use fighting it. Her body wanted his, and wanted it badly.

She could hear him frantically removing his belt and unfastening his pants as he continued to tease her skin with kisses, moans growing louder in either excitement or impatience. Ellie felt dizzy with sensation, her pussy already clenching and tightening in desperation to feel his cock inside of her again.

But before she could fully acquiesce to arousal, a sobering detail she hadn't yet noticed brought her bubbling pleasure to a sudden, painful halt.

For on David's shirt collar was the unmistakable smear of a woman's makeup.

Ellie squirmed underneath him, frantically pressing her hands against his chest, for she was certain she would become sick.

"Ellie, love...what is it?" she heard David ask. Ellie quickly turned away from him.

"I'm just very tired, David. That's all," she replied.

She bit her lip to keep her tears from falling as his large hands closed down on her shoulders, this time, in massage.

"Tell me again why you won't hire some help to take care of all this holiday planning? I'm worried about you, sweetheart," David said.

Ellie stiffened and scooted away from him, terrified of being touched again.

"I'd just...rather do it myself. It's important to me. Now, I really do need to get some sleep," Ellie said. She wouldn't be able to hold back her tears for much longer.

The bed shifted as her husband stood, and she heard his footsteps approaching the door.

"I miss you, Ellie," she heard him say. A single tear escaped the barrier she was trying with all her might to maintain.

"I miss you, too," Ellie replied sadly.

She waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before she exhaled, and cried herself to sleep.

******

******

David stared at the screen of his laptop, eyes no longer processing the contract in front of him.

He was trapped in that insufferable bridge between mental wakefulness and physical tiredness. His body was exhausted, but his mind was restless.

Ellie had refused him again tonight. Not that he blamed her in the slightest, he fully understood that she wasn't yet ready for sex. She was still grieving, after all. And he loved her. He was willing to be patient with her as long as she needed.

But unfortunately, his body did not respond to such logic and basic decency. Just the sight of her, his sweet, innocent Ellie, the sound of her voice, or even her scent, was enough to send him into a state of arousal so severe that he was near madness, and could think of nothing else than the primal desire to fuck her, and hard. Restraint was nothing more than a weak façade, for he craved her sex like an addict.

And after four long, interminable months, the withdrawals still hadn't faded.

He felt guilty for advancing on her the way that he had, but it was almost like an animal instinct, a reflex, that couldn't be untrained. Her sensitive reactivity, however reluctant, had been enough of a catalyst to fuel his poorly contained lusts, so much that he was already touching her before she'd even fully awoken.

In his desperate eagerness to feel close to her again, he'd nearly violated his wife.

David closed his laptop with a heavy sigh and reached for his drink of choice for the night, neat vodka with sliced lime. He loosened his tie and collar, mildly annoyed to find that his secretary's makeup had landed on his shirt, yet again.

Constance was a kindly older woman, and she treated him like a son, always hugging him and asking him if he was eating properly. She'd been with the firm for her entire professional career, starting with his father. While not always accurate or efficient, she was always loyal. And for that, he valued her greatly.

Tonight, he'd given his staff their Christmas presents and end-of-year bonuses, and Constance had been particularly overjoyed. He'd given her a hand-picked basket containing luxurious bath and skincare products, in addition to a generous gift certificate to the most exclusive Manhattan spa, all decorated with bright ribbon, fresh cinnamon sticks, and holly. Constance had been so excited about the gift that she'd actually started crying, and her tearful, heavy makeup had ended up on his collar as he'd tried to calm her down.

He, of course, had nothing to do with the gift at all. It was his wife, his sweet, caring wife, who had personally curated and packaged over five hundred gifts to his staff, clients, and professional colleagues.