Hoops & Harmonies

Christmas without you?

⸻

It was Christmas Eve, and Monica was tucked under a blanket on the couch, Christmas lights twinkling around the room. Her phone buzzed, and she saw Angel calling. She answered, her voice bright but cautious.

"Hey, baby," Monica said.

"Hey... babe," Angel's voice was slow, careful, and there was a weight to it that immediately set Monica on edge.

"What's wrong? You sound... off," Monica asked, her heart tightening.

"I... I might not make it home for Christmas," Angel said softly.

Monica froze, a cold shock running through her. "Wait... what? Babe, you can't miss Christmas!" She clutched the blanket tighter, her voice trembling. "It's Christmas Eve. You're supposed to be here with me, with the kids. You have to get home."

"I know, I know," Angel said quickly, trying to sound calm. "It's just... the snow here is bad, flights are getting canceled, and..." Her words trailed off, leaving Monica panicked and frustrated.

Monica's eyes welled up. "Angel! No. No, no, no. You cannot miss Christmas. I... I just can't imagine it without you here."

"I'm trying, baby, I promise," Angel replied. Her voice had that steady, soothing tone Monica knew would eventually calm her, but she wasn't letting on just how close she already was to getting home. "I'm going to get there. You'll see."

Monica let out a shaky laugh, half from worry, half from exasperation. "You better. I might actually cry if you don't make it. I'm not joking."

Angel chuckled softly, hiding her smile. Just wait, Mon... she thought to herself. She wanted to keep Monica guessing a little longer — to see that mix of panic, longing, and love — before she could finally walk through the door and see her wife's reaction.

"Alright," Monica said, finally sinking back into the couch, her voice quieting. "Just... come home, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, babe," Angel replied, and though Monica couldn't see her, she could practically feel the warmth in her tone.

First things first: the gifts. Angel had one more stop before heading home. She drove straight to the dealership and picked up the Maybach SL 680, admiring the sleek lines as she slid behind the wheel. She grinned to herself, knowing Monica's jaw would drop when she saw it. With the car safely loaded with a giant bow on the hood, Angel didn't linger—there was the watch to pick up too. The Audemars Piguet Royal Oak, sparkling like a little piece of luxury heaven, was tucked safely in her bag, and she made her way home, heart racing with anticipation.

Pulling into the garage, Angel parked the Maybach alongside her other cars, careful to keep it hidden from Monica. She placed the bow on it for the ultimate effect and then hopped on the golf cart. The garage was closer to the guest house than the main entry, and it was the quickest way to get to the front door without being seen. Heart racing, she drove the short path, the keys jingling in her hand as she approached the house.

Angel unlocked the door, and as the front door swung open, Monica came barreling out from their bedroom, eyes wide, hearing the alarm indicate someone was at the door. The moment she saw Angel, she didn't hesitate—she jumped into her arms, wrapping herself tightly around her wife.

"You liar! I thought you weren't coming!" Monica exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I would never miss Christmas," Angel said, holding her close and rocking her slightly. "Especially this year."

Monica laughed through her tears, feeling Angel's warmth and excitement. "You're insane, you know that?"

"I know," Angel replied, smirking. "But you love it."