had learned to read her well enough over the years, and he saw she did not plan on buying one. But oh, it would be so perfect! He had always wanted an Armani suit like that, a black one out of fine Merino wool. He had already visualized the red box lying under a lush and colorful Christmas tree, just like the Christmas presents of old times. A perfect red box with a perfect white bow on top.
With a dreamy sigh of the Christmas to come, he parked his immaculate blue BMW, and with a last roar the engine went silent among the snow-covered houses. As he got out of the car and walked up to the front door he smiled, Emilie would be grumpy tonight, he knew it. But she would see he was right, as soon as they got to the cabin. She was bound to smile and love it!
***
He blew out the candle on the old wooden bedside table and the rustic cabin room fell into shadows. He put down his book and looked out at the snow covered trees outside the barred window. They were beautiful, just as the one downstairs now casting a warm
glow all the way up the stairs and to the open bedroom door. He had done it. It was going to be perfect.
But, it wasn't yet, because Emilie was still not as happy as he had hoped she would be. She had not even shown any interest in decorating the Christmas tree earlier the same evening, and by the time they were supposed to share hot drinks by the big fireplace, they even argued.
He had been irritated at her bad attitude and he had not seen any red present under the tree. Hell, there had not been one single present big enough to hold an Armani suit. Was it so bad of him to want this special holiday to be just that, special? No, no it wasn't he had told her. Then she had called him all sorts of things, and now she slept down by the tree.
He sighed. Well, maybe tomorrow would be better. She must have hidden the suit somewhere to surprise him, simple as that. Because she knew he wanted it. She knew!
***
Christmas morning came and as
soon as he opened his eyes he knew the day would be as perfect as he had hoped. The sun was shining and the snow was as white and sparkling as the earrings in Emilie's present. He put on his slippers and wrapped the robe around himself. Then he headed down the wooden stairs to greet Emilie and open the morning gifts.
But as he had gone halfway down the stairs he stopped. He stared.
The Christmas tree was glowing as perfect as it ever could, and beneath it lay a big red perfect present with a white bow on top of it!
It was… It was… Perfect!!
Beyond himself with happiness, he rushed the last few steps down to the sofa to kiss his lovely Emilie on this glorious Christmas morning. But again, he stopped, this time mid step. He looked down at the sofa in front of him. There she lay, his beloved Emilie, pale as the snow outside, lips blue as ice and in her hand she still held her bottle of sleeping pills. It was all but empty now.
He stared. Unable to move.
Then something upon the coffee table next to the sofa caught his eye. A note. It lay there written in Emilie's handwriting, and with just a glimpse at it the words etched themselves into his mind:
"I have nothing more to give you.
Merry perfect Christmas."