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‘I thought we could each open an early present from under the tree. We always used to have a Christmas Eve present at home. Usually pyjamas.’ Freya sat down at the opposite end of the dinner table still bubbling with excitement as though she expected Father Christmas to drop down the chimney any second. He’d never had any such delusions as a child or a grown-up.
‘Sounds good.’ If he’d known that was a thing he would’ve done a little more retail preparation to make her happy but this was all new to him. He’d never given much thought to gift giving other than a token gesture but the pile of presents she’d assembled beneath the tree would rival any window display on Edinburgh’s Royal Mile.
‘I know we’d planned a quiet day, but I thought maybe, if it’s okay with you, we could drive over to my mum and dad’s after lunch tomorrow. We’ve hardly seen them since the wedding.’
‘I thought we were supposed to be spending it on our own?’ Lucas’s knife and fork clattered to the floor along with his stomach, the last of his appetite quickly disappearing. The last thing he wanted to do was spend the day with her seemingly perfect family when he’d just buried the only sorry excuse for a parent he’d ever had.
‘I know. I just thought it might be nice to see them and break up the day a little...’
In that second he could see the disappointment in her big brown eyes that he wasn’t enough to make her happy. Christmas was a symbol of everything that was important to her—family. The one thing he’d learned to live without but which was everything to her.
Freya loved being with her parents, couldn’t wait to be one herself, and he didn’t want to be that dark shadow hanging over either her life or their child’s, at any time of the year. What if he turned out like his father, unable to show any emotion other than hate? He was already on that path, distancing himself from his wife’s love in the present to focus on the bitterness of his past. She deserved better than a man who wasn’t strong enough to separate himself from a frightened little boy intimidated by his father.
Lucas rose from the table with a quiet acceptance he was no longer the man she’d agreed to marry and spend the rest of her life with, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Their love might be physically keeping them together but it would ultimately tear them apart inside, forcing this relationship to work when they both wanted, needed, such different things.
‘I’m sorry, Freya. I can’t do this any more.’ The words were ripped from his aching heart, leaving a hole in his chest he knew would never heal.
He couldn’t be responsible for anyone else’s life when he wasn’t sure he wanted his own any more. It was getting too damn difficult to imagine a time when he would no longer be in pain and he didn’t want the same for Freya or the child she expected them to raise in this mess.
This was the only way to save them both, even though it might seem like intolerable cruelty tonight. It was painful now but hopefully, with time, Freya would realise it was the right thing for him to do. She was young and idealistic, with the kind of open heart that would help her find love again, where his had been flawed from the start. He’d never been able to fully give himself to her or the relationship when he’d been holding back the truth about his parentage.
‘Lucas? I’m sorry... We don’t have to go if you don’t want to... Lucas?’
He got as far as the door before he heard her quickening footsteps behind him in the hallway but he daren’t look back. His knees were already weak, his chest so unbearably tight that he couldn’t even trust himself to speak without collapsing to the floor.
Leaving was the best present he could think of to give her. She could still have all those things she wanted, just with someone else. He’d be a lost cause for ever when he was walking away from the best thing that would ever happen to him but he should never have expected to have everything he’d ever wanted.
His father had been right all along. He was a useless waste of space.
