For the first time in her life, Rosie McArthur woke up on Christmas morning, feeling devastated. There was a lump within her throat; a painful one that didn't subside no matter how much she swallowed. She felt this way, for she had finally come to terms with a new fact.
Her boyfriend of more than a year, Callum Olliston, had stopped loving her.
She couldn't wrap this foreign thought around her guarded mind and heart, for she was always used to having everything happen according to her wish.
She sat up straight on her plush queen-sized bed, as she thought over this newest revelation. She felt it coming within the back of her mind, for quite a while now. What else could explain his sudden change in demeanour for the past month?
However, it hit her like a meteor this morning, and she could feel her palms beginning to clam up. What would people say, if she told them Callum had stopped loving her? What would people say, when she stood under the mistletoe on her own?
And most importantly, what was she going to do without him?
She sighed, before biting her perfectly manicured pink nail. She picked up her sleek mobile phone, and quickly scrolled through the dozens of Christmas wishes, until she stopped at one particular text. Callum's text.
Wish you a very merry Christmas, Rosie. :)
And this. This, short text confirmed her suspicions. She clicked the 'off' button, on her phone to make sure she wouldn't have to look at Callum's text anymore.
He never sent her a message without a heart symbol, and he definitely wouldn't do that for a Christmas wish. Unless, he really stopped loving her.
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Rosie padded downstairs, wearing a pair of fuzzy socks, and a brand new comfortable onesie. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and her delicate face was devoid of makeup.
It took her around a quarter of an hour to reply and send Christmas wishes to all her friends. After that, she quickly sent a text to Callum, asking if she could meet him, once the Christmas celebrations in his music class were over.
Callum, being one year older than Rosie, had finished school, and with no plans of going to college, was now working as a music teacher in a small studio, for children and teenagers. The classes held in the mornings and afternoons were regular music lessons for the piano and guitar. The classes held in the evening however, were music therapy classes.
