The Vanishing Stocking
Vincent had been in a bad fight. I hurried to the station, signed him out, and saw his face bruised, smelling of cheap whiskey. He stayed silent about what happened.
Later, his phone lit up with messages from a female colleague, Erin:
Vincent, thank you for standing up to my ex-husband. Without you these past months, my son and I wouldnt have made it.
Leo loves the stocking you gave him. He waits for Daddy Vincent every day. Give us a family.
Enraged, I threw the phone. We fought bitterly. I was hysterical; he called me heartless. Finally, he promised to transfer Erin to another team and cut all contact.
And it seemed he hadtheir work chats were strictly professional.
Until I found the hidden space on his phone.
Theyd just moved their conversations to a private account, full of photos with Erin and her son, all warmly congratulated. Scrolling back to Christmas night, I saw her message: I found a ring in the stocking. Is your girlfriend proposing? I can return it.
He replied: Dont. Pretend you never saw it. Im not ready to marry.
Fine. Hed get his wish. After five years, it was time for me to go home.
1
Vincent was busy in the kitchen.
Chloe, Ive reheated everything a few times. It might not taste great anymore.
Tell me what you want, Ill order something. Or I can take you out. That new Japanese place on the corner is still
He turned and saw my tear-filled eyes.
His expression softened instantly.
Hey, come on. Dont be like that.
Youre the most understanding girl in the world, right?
I pulled away from his touch, my voice cold.
Get the Christmas stocking back.
Vincents smile froze.
He tore off his apron, balled it up, and threw it at my feet.
He pointed a trembling finger at my face for a moment before forcing out a single, grit-toothed word. Fine.
He made the call.
Erin said her son had accidentally ripped a seam in the stocking.
Im so sorry. Tell me how much it was, and Ill pay you back.
Vincent looked like he was about to lose it.
One Christmas stocking. A never-ending drama.
Its fine, he said into the phone. Chloes just throwing a little tantrum. Ill buy her a new
Its not the same, Vincent, I cut in.
Suddenly, he smashed the phone against the wall.
It exploded into pieces, and a few shards flew out, cutting my arm and drawing blood.
His voice boomed.
What the hell is your problem today?!
Its a damn Christmas stocking, Chloe! Could you be any more obvious about your grudge against Erin?
I stared at him, stunned.
Vincent pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and threw it in my face.
The bills scattered, and among them were three ticket stubs from an amusement park.
Is that enough?
He pulled out a credit card.
And threw it at me.
IS THAT ENOUGH?!
IM PAYING YOU BACK FOR HER!
My ears were ringing.
In six years, this was the first time Vincent had ever been truly angry with me. He looked vicious, like he wanted to devour me whole.
A dull ache bloomed in my chest. I was so hurt I couldnt speak.
All I could do was fumble through my phones photo album, desperately searching for the proofthe evidence from five years ago when hed promised to marry me on this very day.
He was the one who had forgotten.
Thats enough. Lets both just cool off for a night.
Vincent pushed my phone away.
Chloe, you need to take a long, hard look at your own jealousy.
The door slammed shut.
I started dry-heaving, my body convulsing uncontrollably.
I clutched the fabric over my heart.
It was the only thing that seemed to ease the feeling of suffocation.
When the tears finally stopped and I could breathe again, I pulled myself off the floor and started packing my few belongings.
I had arrived six years ago, full of courage and alone. I would leave six years later, just as alone.
Erin posted on her private account.
The caption read: The happiest Christmas ever.
The photo was taken at an upscale restaurant. Vincent was holding her son, and Erin was nestled against his side.
While I had been gone, they had gone out for a feast.
The table was laden with food.
The dishes Vincent had been reheating in the kitchen were their leftovers.
Including a shrimp dishErins favorite, and a deadly allergen for me.
He hadnt even thought to pick them out for me.
Vincents assistant had commented:
Whoa, that was fast. Erins charm is no joke.
And to think Vincent is always going on at work about how hes not the marrying type. Guess he fell for her in the end.
The screen went dark, reflecting my ashen face.
My hands were shaking as I packed the last of my things.
At the very bottom of my suitcase was the bus ticket from my journey to Chicago six years ago.
A 32-hour ride.
But my six years of devotion had never been real to him.
2
It was laughable, really.
After all these years in Chicago, I had no friends, no job. The only money I had was what Vincent had thrown at me last night.
The only thing I had learned was how to revolve around him.
I learned to cook for him, to put him first, to empty my savings to buy him a twenty-thousand-dollar watch just to see him smile.
I was such a fool.
A fool who had offered up her heart, completely exposed, for him to trample on.
One ticket to Miami, please.
The woman behind the counter suddenly spoke. Hey arent you the girl from six years ago?
I looked up, a hint of color returning to my pale face.
You remember me?
The woman smiled.
How could anyone forget you two?
Your boyfriend waited outside the station for you for a whole day and night. The snow was piling up on his shoulders, but he wouldnt move, terrified hed miss you.
We told him to go inside, get a cup of coffee to warm up, but he just gave this shy smile and said he was starting a business, that hed spent all his money on a gift for you. He couldn't even afford a train ticket, said hed walked for five hours just to get to the station.
I listened, captivated.
My chest felt tight, a bitter ache spreading through it.
From a rundown squat, to a tiny rental, to the spacious penthouse we lived in now.
He had shouldered all the hardship alone.
With hands raw from frostbite and calluses, he had built a life for us, brick by brick. A home.
We wont have to be afraid of the winter anymore, hed said.
Chloe I was so scared you would come find me. And so scared you wouldnt.
I was terrified youd have to suffer with me.
But I was even more terrified that you didnt love me.
He had cried that day.
He held me so tightly I thought I would merge into his body.
My own tears streamed down my face.
It was supposed to be a happy memory. How had it become so painful?
Heres your ticket, honey.
My fingertips trembled as I took it.
It felt less like a ticket and more like a blade, meant to sever the past.
Dont cry.
The ticket agent glanced at the expensive jade bracelet on my wrist and seemed to relax a little.
When you build a life with a man from nothing, dont measure it in love. Measure it in money. Measure it by how willing he is to provide for you.
I nodded.
The ticket was crumpled in my fist.
Just before boarding, Vincent arrived.
He ran toward me, just like he had six years ago, and pulled me into a fierce hug.
I could hear his ragged breathing, his frantic heartbeat, the tremor in his voice.
Dont go
Chloe, I was just angry with you. I wasnt trying to kick you out
Vincent tore up my ticket, swept me into his arms, and placed me in the passenger seat of his car.
You dont want me seeing Erin, right?
I had her transferred. Ill keep my distance from now on.
I was silent.
I stared numbly at the little charm dangling from the rearview mirrora gift from Erin.
The car was filled with the scent of citrusErins perfume.
The glove compartment, which used to be filled with my things, was now stuffed with snacks for a child and several tubes of lipstick that werent mine.
I blinked, my eyes feeling incredibly dry.
Vincent didnt notice. He was chattering on about taking me to Japan for the holidays.
I sighed softly.
I didnt even have the energy to nod.
3
Vincent never mentioned Erin again.
Their chat history was strictly professional.
It was a clean break.
Chloe, Im up for the VP position, so things are going to be really busy for a while.
His voice sounded distant over the phone.
Unreal.
I transferred some money to your account. Go out, do some shopping, buy yourself something nice. Dont put all your energy into me.
He would come home after I was already asleep.
He would leave in the morning while I was still dreaming.
There was always breakfast hed warmed up for me in the microwave, and my dirty clothes would be washed and hung to dry on the balcony.
Every corner of the house held a trace of Vincent.
I could see him.
But I could no longer reach him.
I could feel us drifting apart, our relationship rusting over.
If you polished away the rust, it almost looked the same as before.
But it was lighter now.
Floating. A strong gust of wind could send it tumbling away.
I was planning to take the money and leave, but then came the biggest complication of all: I was pregnant.
At first, it was just fatigue, loss of appetite, constant nausea.
I told Vincent. The next day, he brought home a bag full of pills for me to take. He didn't even give me any instructions before rushing out the door again.
It wasn't until I felt terribly sick from the medication that I went to the hospital and found out.
Well have to run more tests to see if you can keep the baby, the doctor said, her brow furrowed. After taking so many antibiotics, theres a risk of birth defects.
Two nurses had to help me out of the examination room.
I spent the next six hours in the waiting area, the most agonizing six hours of my life.
The backs of my hands were covered in bruises from where Id dug my nails in.
My eyes were wide open, streaming with tears of guilt.
I cursed myself for not realizing sooner.
For not being more careful with the medication.
For just swallowing whatever Vincent handed me without a second thought.
For now, everything looks okay. Come back for a follow-up next month.
I was flooded with relief. My mood lifted, and I even ate an extra bowl of rice that evening.
Vincent came home late that night.
He reeked of alcohol, his cheek was split open and bleeding, and one of his eyes was swollen shut.
Did you get into a fight?
He mumbled something and went straight to the bathroom.
His work phone, which hed tossed on the bed, buzzed with a notification.
Erin: Vincent, thank you so much for standing up for me today. Otherwise, my ex-husband would never stop harassing me.
Erin: Ive been so helpless. If it werent for you being there for me these past few months, my son and I wouldn't have made it. Leo loves you so much. He waits every day for Daddy Vincent to come play. Vincent, please, give us a family.
The words hammered at my nerves.
It hurt. My whole body felt like it was about to explode.
Daddy Vincent
Then who would my child call daddy?
Give us a family.
Then what about my family?
The one thing I had longed for my entire life, a safe harbor from the storm, was gone.
Torn to shreds by Vincents own hands.
I bit my tongue, the pain forcing me to stay focused as I scrolled through their entire chat history.
They had never stopped talking.
They had just moved from the open to the private.
From his main account to a private one filled with friends and family, where every photo with Erin and her son was met with joyful blessings.
I had been abandoned. Again.
Erin: I found a ring in the stocking. Is your girlfriend planning to propose? I can bring it back.
Vincent: No need. Just pretend you never saw it. I'm not ready to get married yet.
I couldnt maintain my composure any longer.
With trembling hands, I typed a reply: You like being the other woman that much? You can have my trash. Hes all yours.
Chloe, what are you doing with my phone?!
4
Vincents gentleness, his thoughtfulnessit all vanished the second I crossed a line.
He yanked me so hard I stumbled.
I fell against the edge of the bed. Ignoring the sharp pain in my abdomen, I scrambled up and slapped him across the face.
His already swollen face grew darker.
He stared at the phone in my hand.
Give it to me.
I didnt move.
He lunged for it.
He grabbed my hand, prying my fingers off one by one.
There was a sickening crack as my knuckles twisted at an unnatural angle. He wrenched the phone from my grasp as I cried out in pain.
You cant unsend it, Vincent. Its too late.
I started laughing.
It was a wild, unhinged sound.
I called her a homewrecker. A slut. Does that hurt your feelings?
Erin is a
CRACK.
I was thrown back onto the bed.
The slap knocked the words right out of my throat.
They tumbled down into my stomach, twisting into pain, into nausea, into thorny vines that grew and tore me apart from the inside out.
My eye throbbed, swollen and hot.
I wondered if it had burst. Why else would it be leaking so much warmth? It couldnt be tears. It had to be blood.
Do you have any idea how much youre hurting her?! Vincent roared. Chloe, youre going to drive her to suicide!
Will you only be happy when shes dead?!
My voice was a raw whisper.
Yes.
I hope you all die.
Vincent went to the kitchen and came back with a knife. He forced it into my hand and held it to his own throat.
His eyes were crazed, ready to take us both down.
Go on. Kill me.
If you have the guts, then do it!
Chloe, I never said I wouldnt marry you. I just cant deal with Erins situation and you at the same time.
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