AN: Happy New Year! Here's another Juey story from the vault—old to me but new to you. I have a few more works I'd like to share, including a One-Shot. No need to worry; this doesn't mean I won't focus on my ongoing stories. Updates are still coming; I just wanted to provide you with something in the meantime.
On the night before Christmas, a fierce snowstorm raged outside, yet Tom DuBois was undeterred as he took his daughter to meet her greatest idol: Santa Claus. For years, following his separation from his ex-wife Sarah, Tom had made it a tradition to bring their daughter to the mall, where she would eagerly enter Santa's workshop. While she delighted in the magic of the season, Tom utilized this time to complete his last-minute Christmas shopping. This particular visit held special significance for him; it marked one of the few days he could spend with his daughter before returning her to her mother, who had decided that this year, Christmas Day would be hers to celebrate with their child. If only they could have shared that day together.
Do you remember our first Christmas with Jazmine? he texted his former wife, Sarah. Impatiently, he sent another message. For Christ's sake, please! I miss you a lot, Sarah! As he continued to drive, he awaited her response with a hopeful smile, believing deep down that she would understand his longing to reclaim what had been lost.
He had always done everything in his power to keep her happy, yet it seemed she was never truly satisfied.
"Daddy, are you okay?" His biracial daughter gazed at him with her sad green eyes.
"Of course, pumpkin! This is the best time of the year!" He forced a smile. "Why do you ask?" He dreaded her answer.
"Because you miss Mommy, don't you?" she said softly, her eyes filled with sorrow. He cleared his throat and focused back on the road, feeling a sharp pain in his chest. "Y-You know what Daddy misses, pumpkin," he replied, trying to mask the tremor in his voice. "Hot chocolate! How about we catch up on Santa's chocolate shop? Would you like that?" He attempted to sound cheerful.
"Can I have some extra marshmallows?" she asked enthusiastically, clapping her hands together. Tom could only smile at the innocence of his child. "You sure can!" he responded warmly.
"Yaaaay! Hot chocolate marshmallows!"
He chuckled as he watched his daughter dance in her seat, reveling in her small victory. His gaze shifted back to the road ahead until he felt the vibration of his phone against his thigh. The message read: Tom... how long until you open your eyes? THIS IS THE END! Do yourself one favor. MOVE ON! I have!
His grip tightened around the steering wheel as a wave of weakness washed over him. "Daddy, are you okay?" his daughter asked, concern lacing her voice. Tom struggled to respond as another text buzzed through: YOU LOOK PATHETIC! USING OUR DAUGHTER AS A PAWN TO WIN BACK A MARRIAGE THAT WAS FUCKED UP FROM THE START! I'D RATHER DIE ALONE THAN LIVE WITH YOU IN MISERY. If that was her attempt to break him, she had undoubtedly succeeded. The words struck deep, and he felt a tremor in his legs as he pressed harder on the accelerator. He could no longer contain himself; tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision.
"Daddy?" she exclaimed in a panic as the car's speed increased. Her gaze was fixed on her father, whose hands gripped the steering wheel with an intensity that belied his trembling fingers. His palms were slick with sweat, and tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with the remnants of his earlier sobs. He was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring as he struggled to contain his emotions.
In a fleeting moment of clarity, she recalled her lessons from school—shapes and colors, their meanings etched in her mind. Her eyes landed on a familiar shape ahead: large and red. She remembered that it signified a stop; however, it seemed her father had overlooked its significance as they barreled toward the stop sign.
"Daddy!" she screamed, her voice piercing through the cacophony of panic. The blaring horn of an approaching truck echoed in her ears. She turned to see the vehicle hurtling toward them, its headlights glaring like festive Christmas lights against the encroaching darkness. A high-pitched cry escaped her lips as the lights grew ever brighter, illuminating their impending danger
He held his daughter's hand tightly, his gaze fixed on her as if to shield her from the impending doom. All he desired was to protect her from the calamity that loomed ahead. Suddenly, a powerful force collided with his body, searing him with an intense heat. The cacophony of screeching tires and crumpling metal filled his ears, mingling with the haunting cries of his daughter echoing in his mind. In those final moments, a vivid memory surfaced—him pushing her on a swing at the playground, laughter ringing in the air—as he felt life slipping away from him.
His daughter's eyes widened in terror as she sensed her body being thrust violently forward and backward. The windshield glass shattered toward her like a deadly storm. A sharp pain pierced through her eyes as shards of glass flew past, causing them to bleed and burn with excruciating agony. The once-firm grip of her father's hand began to loosen, slipping away into nothingness. In that instant, a torrent of memories flooded her mind—those hands that had always made her feel safe were powerless against the encroaching darkness. Her head jerked forward, slamming into the airbag with a suffocating force, leaving her in a void where no more thoughts could linger.