Christmas Visits...

She looked out the window at the worsening weather. She really needed to leave soon. With the snow she might have already waited too long. But at least she would be able to blame the storm for being late. She would give him another 10 minutes. It's not like it would be the first time he didn't show up without calling. She couldn't even be mad considering she had done it to him a few times as well. It was the nature of their relationship, sometimes things came up. 

She shivered. The wind was strong enough that she was getting a breeze from standing too near the window. She had tried to sit patiently and wait but waiting was never her strong suit. And it was worse waiting for him. Taking time to question why she was here was never a good idea. Thinking about what she was doing, what she was risking.

Guilt. There was always guilt. 

She had had lunch with a friend and they had talked about guilt. Her friend didn't believe in it. Or at least didn't believe in feeling it for long. "Guilt is an actionable emotion. If you are feeling it, you stop what you are doing that is causing it." But was it that simple? She didn't think so. After all why should she feel guilty? Didn't she deserve this? Didn't she work hard? Didn't she keep everything going and never ask for anything? If what she was doing didn't really hurt anyone then there was no reason to feel guilty.  Especially at Christmastime. There was so much expected of her. Buy all the presents, decorate the house, do the cards, plan the meals, arrange all of the schedules for the school programs, bake the cookies, and always keep the Christmas spirit high!

She deserved this.

If nobody knew then nobody could get hurt.

That's what she told herself.

And it worked.

Until she was waiting and it was quiet.

Like now.

When she knew she should be at home, or at least on her way to the restaurant for one more Christmas party. There was always something else she should be doing instead of this.

Guilt.

She paced. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe she should just stop. It was selfish. It was wrong. Everyone would say so. If there was anyone she could tell, that is, they would say so if they knew. And they would be shocked. She wasn't the sort of person who did things like this after all. She was the picture of normal. Of boring. Middle class, suburban, working mother. Her picture could have been in the dictionary next to "normal." But she had her secret. She smiled. Her one thing that was just hers. The thing that would have shocked everyone. And was that what made it good? The secrecy?  

She looked at her watch again. She was going to have to give up. He wasn't coming. She looked in the mirror suddenly feeling ridiculous in her outfit. She had worn red lingerie and tied a big ribbon around her body. Like a Christmas gift. What had seemed sexy and fun earlier now seemed desperate and sad. She untied the ribbon and took off the red laced bra and panties putting back on her normal underwear. Her practical cotton. She grabbed her jeans from the chair and slipped them back over her hips. Catching a glimpse of her soft belly in the mirror. Why did she think she was sexy before? The body that had carried 3 kids? Sexy was a long time ago. She pulled her sweater over her head and dropped the lingerie and bow in to the trash can. One and done. And not really even one. But she couldn't really bring them home with her. Sexy Christmas packages didn't really play in the 'burbs.

She braced herself for the cold blast and opened the door to the hotel room. There was a large bag blocking the door with a note attached. 

Good Little Boys and Girls get presents from Santa.
Bad Little Boys and Girls get a visit from me.

Merry Christmas,

-K

She could hear the ringing of his chains fading in the distance, she had just missed him dropping off her "gift."

As the blood soaked through the bottom of the bag she knew now why her lover was late, and knew which list Krampus had put them both on.

She was still screaming when the police arrived.