Is it possible to hate New Year's Eve? It's the holiday everyone waits for with a childlike hope for a miracle, for some fairy-tale transformation, naively believing that the turning of the calendar will bring a whole new life: new experiences, new friends, a new love. And that for you, a version of yourself renewed, a fresh kind of happiness will finally begin.
Jane did not love it. Not always, of course. Oh, there was a time when she, too, would enthusiastically repeat that holiday toast like a magic spell: "Happy New Year! To new happiness!"—the very phrase that now made her skin crawl. Yes, she didn't just dislike New Year's; she absolutely hated it. She wouldn't have celebrated it at all if it weren't for her little daughter. But Lily wasn't to blame for the fact that her mother's relationship with Santa Claus had gone up in smoke.
Jane's gaze snagged on a photo in a simple frame: there she was, wearing a homemade tinsel crown next to Santa—both of them smiling, looking so happy. She had hidden all the other photos away, out of sight (and away from the urge to tear them into tiny pieces), even the wedding portrait. But she couldn't bring herself to touch this one. Now, she certainly couldn't take it down, because it was Lily's favorite. Every morning when the toddler woke up, she would smile at the photo and, with a sweet, lingering lisp, declare, "My Daddy is Santa! And Mommy is a pwincess!" Lily was waiting for Christmas and New Year's, fully believing that her father would come home then, and Jane couldn't find the heart to shatter that childhood dream. Her daughter was still too young for the cruel truth and bitter disappointments. After much thought, Jane decided to hire a Santa from an agency. This year, they would do it that way, and then they'd see. Her daughter would grow up and eventually understand.
***
That photo had been taken on a New Year's Eve long ago—the magical night her love was born. Jane, a college student back then, was celebrating with her friends in the dorms. Some guys they knew had brought along a Santa—a real one, with a beard, a red suit, and a velvet hat—who entertained everyone with nursery rhymes and jokes, making up contests and games on the spot. Dressed in costume, they had gone from room to room, dragged the whole group outside to have a snowball fight, and then threw a holiday dance party.
Santa turned out to be an eighteen-year-old named Mike, incredibly cheerful and handsome. Jane was the only one in the group without a boyfriend, so it happened naturally that Mike became her date for the night. She was absolutely smitten—it was, quite literally, love at first sight.
The young couple started dating, but that spring, Mike was drafted into the Army. For two years, Jane waited faithfully for her love, living from one letter to the next. When Mike returned, they were married shortly after. Jane managed to get a small apartment through work, and Mike got a job driving for a local taxi company. On the surface, everything was perfect—a life to be enjoyed. Jane got pregnant almost immediately. But instead of carrying his wife in his arms, her husband started trying to talk her out of having the baby.
"We're still so young," he'd say. "We should live for ourselves for a while."
Jane wouldn't listen. Why would she get rid of her child? Her first baby, with the man she loved. Mike didn't argue, but he didn't show any joy about becoming a father, either. He was constantly away at work, often picking up night shifts. True, when their daughter was born, he was the one who chose her name—Lily. Jane didn't object. The main thing was that Mike—her beloved Mike!—would hold the baby and marvel at how much she looked like him, a spitting image of his own childhood photos. However, he appeared at home less and less, and when he did come back to sleep, he was easily irritated by the baby's crying. He complained there was no peace, no way to rest, and that he was exhausted from working double shifts.
On New Year's Eve, Jane was hit with a "surprise." Mike told her he had to work through the night; it was his turn on the schedule. But he didn't come back the next morning, or even that evening. Distraught with worry, Jane called the taxi company only to find out that Mike hadn't shown up for work in two days. She called every hospital and local clinic, and contacted both sets of parents, feeling in her gut that something terrible had happened.
But the trouble came from a completely different direction. On the morning of January 2nd, Mike came home to pack his things. From the doorway, he announced that he had been in love with someone else for a long time. He had spent the holiday with her because Sarah (that was her name) believed that the person you spend New Year's with is the person you'll spend the rest of your life with. He had made up his mind: they were starting a new life together.
Jane watched him pack, standing there in a trance. she held the baby in her arms, unable to move. A single thought pulsed in her mind: "What about me? How am I supposed to be alone with a baby?" And just as Mike was about to walk out the door, she suddenly dropped to her knees, grabbed his legs, and screamed that she couldn't live without him—that she'd jump out the window with the baby. He hadn't expected that.
He looked lost. "Sarah is waiting for me downstairs..." Jane sobbed, the frightened infant wailed, and finally, he gave in. "Fine, I'll stay. I'll just go tell Sarah to go home..."
Jane would remember that New Year's forever; she thought it couldn't get any worse. Even the following year, when Mike finally did leave for good, didn't feel quite as black or as bitter.
***
For a whole year, they managed to live together somehow. Jane cried for days on end, and Mike started drinking just so he could come home and crash, avoiding his wife's reproaches and her hollowed-out face. He tried to leave several more times, but Jane stopped him every time, throwing herself at his feet and threatening the unthinkable. During one of their drunken arguments, Mike told her he had never actually loved her. Right before they met, he had fought with a girl he liked and promised himself he'd start dating the very first person he ran into. That person was Jane. Yes, he liked her—she was modest, sweet, and kind. But she had no fire, no passion; she was just a plain, domestic girl.
During his two years in the service, it was nice to get her letters, but in his mind, he was always with the other girl. When he returned and found out the other girl had married someone else, he decided to get married himself, immediately, just to spite her. There were no other options—Jane had been waiting for him for two years, after all.
Surprisingly, his parents didn't object to the marriage; they had long since considered Jane their daughter-in-law. The wedding was unexpectedly lively, but Mike couldn't shake the feeling that it was all a strange game, a farce—that it wasn't real, wasn't him, and certainly wasn't for the rest of his life. When Jane told him they were expecting, Mike was genuinely terrified. He was twenty years old! He wasn't ready to be a father or a faithful husband. He wasn't done playing the field. There were so many beautiful women out there; were they all supposed to be off-limits now? No, Mike couldn't accept that. So when one of his regular passengers invited him "up for a coffee," he went without a second thought. Her name was Sarah, and she was exactly "his style": tall, slender, fiercely beautiful, independent, and passionate. To top it off, she lived alone in a two-bedroom apartment—a dream come true. Mike spent all his free time with her, trying to forget his pregnant wife—the little gray mouse who was afraid to take a step without him and who lived to fulfill his every whim with adoring eyes.
When Jane was in the hospital giving birth, Mike actually prayed the baby would be stillborn—that would have set him free. Instead, a healthy girl was born. It was almost as if it were a cruel joke; everyone had said it would be a boy, so Mike had once jokingly claimed he only wanted a girl: "If you have a boy, I'm finding someone else!" He even named the baby after his mistress.
Everything at home irritated Mike: the baby's crying, the cramped apartment, his wife's lack of a manicure or a styled haircut. But he didn't work up the nerve to leave until Sarah gave him an ultimatum. For a whole year, he was torn between the two: at home, his wife was weeping, and at the apartment, Sarah was fuming. He kept running back and forth until Jane finally reached her breaking point.
Jane hadn't told anyone what was happening between her and her husband for a long time. Then, Mike's mother suddenly showed up. She took one look at her daughter-in-law, who had grown so thin she looked like she might blow away in the wind, and understood everything—even though Jane tried to claim Mike was just on a long shift again. Breaking down, Jane told her mother-in-law everything: the mistress, the multiple times Mike tried to walk out, and how he even brought home sandwiches Sarah had made, telling Jane she should learn how to make them like that.
His mother, a wise woman, advised her: "Don't hold onto him. If he wants to go, let him go. There's no life for you like this anyway. Maybe he'll realize it eventually. But you won't be alone. You're my daughter now, and Lily is my granddaughter. Everything will be fine."
Jane believed her and found a sense of peace. When Mike started packing his bags again just before the holidays, she packed his suitcase for him, without a single tear. He didn't believe it at first. "I'm leaving, do you hear me?" he said, pausing at the door, waiting for the usual scene.
"Go. I've had enough New Year's surprises," she said, and closed the door.
She cried, of course, all through New Year's Eve, but this time it was without the fear or the desperation.
***
It was a difficult time. But as her daughter grew, Jane found her strength. Her parents helped, and her in-laws were always there. Even Mike's sister, a college student, would come over on weekends to play with her niece and give Jane a chance to rest. Mike didn't talk to any of them.
His parents had warned him immediately that his mistress was never to set foot in their house. "You're our son, and we love you, but we already have a daughter-in-law, and we don't want another. Come by yourself if you want, but don't bring that woman." He took offense. It broke his mother's heart, but she stood her ground.
A year passed. Mike lived with Sarah, realizing more and more each day that she wasn't the love of his life. The passion had cooled, the gourmet sandwiches had lost their charm, and her predatory beauty had started to grate on him. Moreover, Sarah began picking fights, demanding that Mike officially divorce Jane and marry her. They even went to look at rings and wedding dresses. That had been a mistake. When Sarah stepped out in a white gown, Mike didn't see her; he saw Jane. He saw a young girl with naive blue eyes who looked at him with a tenderness and love that this sophisticated tiger could never achieve. Sarah wasn't capable of loving like that—selflessly and sincerely.
Giving in to Sarah's demands, Mike went back to the apartment to get his marriage certificate. He opened the door with his own key (Jane hadn't even changed the locks!) and froze on the threshold. Jane's happy eyes looked back at him from the wall—the silly girl in the tinsel crown—and his whole life flashed before him.
The unfaithful ex-girlfriend he'd almost forgotten. That distant New Year's Eve. The cheerful Jane with the sparkling blue eyes. The one hundred and fourteen letters she had sent him that provided warmth and peace of mind while he was away in the Army. The wedding. Holding little Lily in his arms. And his mother's eyes, full of pain and worry.
What had he done? He hadn't even remembered his daughter's birthday.
Jane looked out from the photo—not judging, not spiteful, not demanding anything—just happy. Because he had been there. Suddenly, Mike realized that he had been happy with her, too. He just hadn't understood it at the time.
Instead of looking for the documents, he picked up the camera. He scrolled through the photos, watching his life play in reverse: there they were sledding with their daughter, here they were eating ice cream at a café, and there they were celebrating a birthday. He zoomed in on their faces, and his heart ached; he missed them so much.
He looked through every single picture, unconsciously searching for another man by Jane's side—he didn't find one. He felt a small sense of relief. Maybe everything could still be fixed? Then he remembered what he had done, and he was horrified. No, things like that couldn't be forgiven.
Sarah threw a fit when she found out Mike hadn't filed for divorce. To her surprise, he seemed glad. He packed his things and left. At the door, he turned back one last time. "I'm sorry..."
"You're not coming back, are you?" she realized.
"No," he said, and closed the door behind him. Sarah didn't try to stop him. She was proud. She wasn't Jane.
***
Mike moved in with his parents. He couldn't work up the courage to see Jane. He was terrified she'd drive him away, or say something that would make it impossible to ever return. He went to the daycare to see his daughter. The teacher knew him and let him in. The children were playing on the playground. Lily was drawing something in the snow with a stick.
Mike walked over and knelt down beside her. "Hi there."
"Hi," the little girl replied.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm witing a letter to Daddy."
Mike's throat tightened. "And what are you writing?"
"Asking Daddy to come home for New Year's!"
Mike couldn't hold it back. "I'm already here! I'm your Daddy!"
Lily looked at him suspiciously and ran to the teacher. "No! My Daddy is Santa!"
The teacher gestured that it would be better for Mike to leave. He walked away, unable to see where he was going, tears blurring his vision. He cried then, perhaps for the first time in his adult life. And the worst part was knowing that he alone was to blame—he had destroyed his own happiness and ruined the future of his family.
***
Before New Year's Eve, Mike's mother called Jane and invited her over for the holiday. At first, Jane hesitated. But she knew Mike wouldn't be there, so why sit in the city alone?
"I've already booked a Santa for Lily, though," Jane said.
"Then cancel the booking. We'll have our own Santa here. Get ready, Jane. Grandpa is already on his way to pick you up."
The whole family gathered for the party: Mike's parents, his sister and her fiancé, Jane's parents and brothers, and her cousin with her kids. For the first time in a long while, Jane felt truly at home. They decorated the house and set the table, joking and laughing. The children ran around the tree, waiting for the presents to appear.
The doorbell rang, and Santa walked into the room. Before he could even say, "I've traveled all over the world..." Lily was already jumping into his arms, screaming, "Daddy! You're here!" Santa was visibly shaken, but he continued the performance with Lily clinging to his neck.
"No one warned him," Jane worried. But seeing that the actor didn't mind the turn of events, she went back to finishing the table. Half an hour later, when everything was ready, Jane returned to the room. The children were dancing around the tree, and Lily was holding Santa's hand, laughing happily. Santa had taken off his gloves, and Jane noticed a wedding ring on his finger. His hand looked incredibly familiar. Looking closer, she almost fainted: it was Mike! Another lie! How could they lie to her like this? She barely managed to keep from screaming; she didn't want to scare the children. After a few minutes, her anger began to ebb, and Jane was able to look around calmly.
She saw the loving, smiling faces, the tender glances—a real family. And she saw a happy Lily, who had finally gotten her father back.
Mike walked over to Jane and sank to his knees. "Jane, I am so incredibly sorry. I know what I did is unforgivable, but I'm asking you: please, just try. Tonight is New Year's Eve—the time when everything can change. I promise to spend every New Year's to come with you and Lily. You're my princess; you're my queen."
Out of nowhere, Mike produced a crown and, standing up, placed it on Jane's head.
"My Mommy is a queen! And my Daddy is Santa!" Lily shouted, jumping around her parents.
Jane cried, burying her face in Santa's cotton-wool beard. She had forgiven her husband a long time ago. Now, she was ready to let him back into her life, if only to see Lily's eyes shine with happiness. If only to know their parents were at peace. If only to feel his heart beating close to hers. If only he would never let her go. Never again.
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