Christmas used to be my favorite time of the year. Twinkling lights, gingerbread cookies, the smell of fresh pine from the tree, not to mention the stockings stuffed with treats, too. It all felt magical.

This year, though, the magic was gone.

My dad remarried a few months ago, and his new wife, Melanie, made sure I felt like an outsider in my own home. She wasn't evil exactly, not like the stepmothers on TV, but she just had a way of smiling while tearing down your confidence and spirit.

"Oh, Anna, is that what you're wearing? Girl, I'd rethink that!" or "I'm sure your dad will spoil you again. He always does, doesn't he? It will stop soon."

And to make it worse, everything she said was drenched in that sickly-sweet tone that made my stomach turn.

But I kept my mouth zipped for Dad's sake. He honestly looked so happy, and I didn't want to ruin it. Mom had passed away ten years ago, when I was seven. I told myself that I could put up with Melanie, at least for Dad's sake.

It had just been Dad and I for so long, and if Melanie made him feel less alone, maybe it was worth it.

I thought that until a week before Christmas, making sure that I was trying hard for Dad's sake.

And that's when everything changed.

Dad pulled me aside one evening, his expression oddly serious but playful at the same time.

"Anna," he said, holding out a box wrapped in gold foil with a red velvet bow. "I have something really special for you this year, love."

This box was gorgeous, like something straight out of a Hallmark movie. I wanted to unwrap it immediately.

"What is it, Dad?" I asked, eyes wide.

He smiled, but there was something else in his gaze, like a flicker of something unreadable.

"Oh, it's a surprise, kiddo," he said. "But I need you to promise me something."

"Okay... what?"

"Don't open it until Christmas morning," he said.

He handed me the box carefully, like it was fragile.

"Leave it under the tree, and think of me when you see it. I'll be out of town for work, but I'll call you first thing that morning. And I'll be home as soon as I can."

I nodded.

"Okay, I promise to be patient," I grinned.

"Good girl," he said. "This is important to me, love."

His words hung in the air. For a second, I thought he looked... sad. Or maybe conflicted. But then he kissed me on the forehead, told me he loved me, and went upstairs to pack.

The next morning, Christmas Eve, he left for his trip.

On Christmas morning, I woke up early, ready to start the day. But then, I remembered that my dad wasn't going to be there. Christmas breakfast would just be Melanie and I.

Melanie drinking her coffee and noisily scraping her spoon against her bowl as she ate yogurt and granola.

"Come on, Anna," I told myself, kicking off the covers. "Dad's gift is waiting for you!"

The house was quiet, except for the faint sound of movement downstairs.

"She's awake," I groaned.

I slipped out of bed and crept down the stairs, my socks silent against the hardwood. I didn't want to draw attention to myself. Melanie would probably hear me and start the morning off with a snarky comment.

But there, kneeling in front of the Christmas tree like a woman on a mission, was Melanie. My gift, the one Dad told me not to touch until Christmas morning, was in her hands.

"Morning, Anna," she said without turning around. Her voice was bright but cold. "Merry Christmas."

"What are you doing? Melanie?" My throat felt tight. "That's my gift!"

Melanie turned to face me, holding the box like it was hers.

"Come on, girl," she said with a little laugh, though her eyes were hard. "Your dad always spoils you. Let's see if he finally got something useful. Useful to me, I mean. You don't mind, do you? I don't see why you would."

"Melanie, no!" I exclaimed. "Please! Dad told me not to open it until this morning, and I... Please, it's special! It has to be for me!"

"Oh, please," she said, waving a manicured hand dismissively. "You don't deserve half the things your father gives you, Anna. You act like this perfect little angel when he's around, but you're really just a spoiled brat."

Her words cut deep, but before I could respond, she tugged at the red velvet bow. My breath caught.

"Melanie! Stop! Please!"

She rolled her eyes and continued to rip through the gold wrapping, the sound echoing in the silent living room. She tossed the paper aside like garbage and yanked off the lid.

Then she froze.

Her smug smile crumbled into something pale and horrified.

I stepped closer to try and see what she was seeing inside the box.

Inside was a single black velvet ring box and a folded envelope. Her name was written on the front in Dad's unmistakable handwriting.

Her hands shook as she picked up the envelope. She fumbled with the flap, pulling out the letter. I watched as she read, her lips trembling.

"Melanie," she read aloud, her voice wavering. "If you're reading this, it means you've done exactly what I suspected. I overheard your conversation with your sister last week. About taking Anna's gift for yourself. I thought about confronting you then, but I wanted to give you a chance to prove me wrong. Instead, you proved everything I feared."

She glanced up at me, her face ghost-white.

"Is that it? Is there more?" I asked, the words escaping my lips before I could stop them.

Her eyes darted back to the page, and she nodded.

"You've disrespected my daughter, and now you've crossed the line. Consider this my official goodbye. Merry Christmas."

She dropped the letter like it had burned her. With shaking hands, she opened the velvet box. Inside was her engagement ring. The same ring Dad had used to propose.

But the ring wasn't really Melanie's. It had belonged to my grandmother, and it was something that I always wanted. But since my dad had proposed to Melanie with it, I didn't think that it would have been mine.

Ever.

The room was silent except for her shaky breaths; the usual Christmas carols were forgotten. I stood rooted to the spot, torn between shock and a strange, quiet satisfaction.

Then the front door opened.

Melanie spun around.

"Greg?"

"Dad!"

Dad stood in the doorway, duffel bag in hand. He looked calm, too calm. Like someone who had expected what was coming, or what he was walking into.

Like it had been planned. Well, of course it had. He had written an entire letter. But when had he started to notice how Melanie treated me? I tried so hard to make sure that he hadn't seen our issues.

"I thought you were on a work trip," she stammered.

"I wasn't," he said simply.

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

"I stayed close. I needed to see for myself. I knew you were making Anna feel less than herself. For a while now, Melanie, I've been watching and I've been listening. I thought that you'd get better, and that maybe things were just difficult for you. That you were still transitioning into being a parent."

"Greg, it's not what it looks like..." she said.

"Oh, it's exactly what it looks like, Melanie," Dad interrupted, his voice sharp. "I gave you a chance, Melanie. I wanted to believe that you'd do the right thing. But you proved me wrong."

"Please," she whispered. "I didn't mean... Greg, I love that ring..."

"I know, but Anna loves it, too. I spoke to my mother, and she told me that Anna had always hoped for it. Now, please stop. I trusted you to be my partner. To be a stepmother to Anna. But instead, you've shown nothing but greed and cruelty. This was the final test, and you failed."

Melanie looked at me like this was somehow my fault. Her face crumpled as she tried to speak, but Dad had already turned away from her.

Melanie left that afternoon, dragging her suitcase out the door with all the grace of a storm cloud. She muttered something about misunderstandings and how Dad was making a huge mistake.

"This will be your undoing, Greg. Nobody is capable of loving you and tolerating your child at the same time."

"Just leave," he said.

I didn't bother to respond. I needed this decision to be solely his.

The house was quiet again, and for the first time in months, it felt peaceful.

Dad and I spent the rest of Christmas together. Just the two of us. We made a huge stack of pancakes with extra crispy bacon, drank hot chocolate, watched old Christmas movies, and laughed about the times when I'd sneak peeks at my presents as a kid.

Later that night, when the fire had burned low and the house felt warm and homey again, my dad gave me another wrapped present.

It was another gold box. Inside was the ring box again and another letter, this one with my name on it.

I opened it carefully.

Anna, you're the best thing in my life. I hope this Christmas marks a new beginning for both of us. I love you more than anything. – Dad.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I said.

"Whatever for?" he asked, glancing from his spot on the couch.

"For everything with Melanie. I hoped that I'd be off to college soon and you wouldn't have to navigate life between us. I just wanted you to be happy."

"I am happy, darling," he said. "And this ring is yours. One day there will be some worthy man who will slide it onto your finger, and your forever will begin. Melanie wasn't that for me."

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When 17-year-old Rosalie's stepmom, Susan, sabotages her Christmas by secretly canceling her flight, Rosalie is devastated. But karma has other plans. A series of ironic twists and turns leaves Susan stranded, humiliated, and exposed for her manipulation... ensuring that her Christmas is far from perfect.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.