New Year's Eve

CHAPTER 1

Helena

God, what am I doing here? Alone. Hundreds of miles from home. In a country completely foreign to me. I think I'm completely crazy to be here on Christmas Eve.

It's usually a family holiday, and it's supposed to be celebrated with the people closest to me. But what about those who are all alone? Where are they supposed to spend their holidays? If I was alone in my empty apartment, I would go crazy. But I couldn't even think of where to go.

I just went to the airport and bought a ticket for the next flight. And then the plane took me to Paris.

I won't say that it's my favorite city, or that I ever dreamed of coming here. On the contrary, I never thought about France and know nothing about the country. In part, I'm even glad I was here today. No associations, no memories. Paris is the perfect place to spend all the New Year's holidays. No one can disturb my loneliness here.

You think I'm a loser? That's your right. Maybe I am. But I need this reboot. I need to finally figure out who I am and what I should be doing next.

God, I really am a loser if I still don't know the answers to these questions on my thirtieth birthday. But here I am. This is who I am. With all my flaws. And I have a lot of them, believe me. And the biggest flaw in my life is my family. Yes, I do have one. But I don't want to celebrate the holidays with people like that. They will pervert any holiday, and instead of joy you will feel an acute desire to disappear far away. Or get drunk. Or die. It's a nightmare.

How to explain it. My parents are a great example of what a family should never be. My father is an alcoholic and my mother is an infantile fool. No, don't judge me harshly. You just don't know the whole story.

Oh, and I married a moron who dumped me for his pretty young secretary.

I met Fred six months after I graduated college. I had just started working as a psychologist and his office was next door to mine. A lawyer and a psychologist were the perfect couple. Fred is three years older than me, well built, and has undeniable charisma. His emerald-colored eyes inspired confidence. I would not say that we were in love at first sight. And whether there was love at all, I don't know anymore. We just felt good together, comfortable. It was for these silly reasons that we got married after ten months of knowing each other. It wasn't the wedding of the year, more like a simple marriage ceremony, followed by a banquet with a close circle. And we didn't have a honeymoon per se, because at that time my newlywed husband was working on several cases for his very powerful clients. So I plunged back into my work. Thank God, I was doing very well.

I was getting more and more clients. And I loved it. I was glad that I could help people. I was saving people and their families from destruction. I helped them understand who they were and what they needed from this life. But I didn't notice how my marriage was falling apart, because I was so wrapped up in other people's problems. I only found out about his cheating when Fred told me Alice (that was her name) was pregnant with his child. It was painful, but I didn't put him on the spot and signed the divorce papers right away.

What can I say, my life didn't work out. But let's not talk about the bad stuff. I want to enjoy my freedom to the fullest today.

I close my eyes and breathe in the frosty night air. I'm starting to feel like it's not so bad. Being alone. At least now, I'm not surrounded by lying and hypocritical people who pretend I mean something to them. And as if to confirm my thoughts, my phone beeps with an incoming message.

"Merry Christmas, Helena. May all your dreams come true! Sincerely, Fred."

This is so idiotically stupid. We haven't spoken in three years, but he insists on sending me greetings on every major holiday. And this is despite the fact that I never respond to him. I think my ex-husband still feels guilty about leaving me. But I don't care.

I tuck my phone in my pocket, wrapping myself even more tightly in my coat. I've been walking around Paris for hours, enjoying the architecture and the little streets. I don't even know what they are called, but it doesn't matter. The atmosphere in this city is really special. After another twenty minutes, I find myself at the New Year's fair. In the very center of the city is a veritable island of fun and festivities.

Everything here is like in a fairy tale. The square is decorated with Christmas lights and all kinds of toys. In the very center there is a huge Christmas tree, around which children play. A few meters from the green beauty on his throne sits Santa and takes orders from the little restless kids. His faithful helpers the elves hand out sweets to everyone. The adults find shelter near the tent, where they sell fragrant mulled wine. The only thing missing for a complete idyll is snow.

London is full of all sorts of fairs like this one at this time, too. And yet now it seems to me that this one is different from them in absolutely everything. The air itself seems to be saturated with happiness. And breathing it in with my chest makes me feel warmer. This thought makes my lips stretch out in a smile. Despite the fact that it's cold outside, I don't feel cold.

I walk forward, looking for a more or less free booth with hot drinks. I can't wait to get some hot chocolate and marshmallows and get back to the tree. It looks like there should be some kind of show going on there soon.

I find one with two girls and a man with a child standing near it. I get closer and look at the sign. "Café et amour".

Even without knowing the language, I understand that it's about coffee and love. The French seem to be obsessed with these two things.

In my mind, I don't notice the imminent threat. I'm standing there, and a moment later a strong man's body crashes into me, and his hot drink ends up on my coat.