It was Christmas eve at the office. After a very lively office party, the rest of my colleagues had finished up their work for the day and were saying their goodbyes as they headed home to spend the vacation with their families and romantic partners. I, on the other hand, as a single orphan who lived on a completely different coast to his hometown, had no such plans. I had been sick the week before, and while I had a generous amount of time off, that just meant I spent this week doubling down and doing overtime to catch up. As a result of my workload, I ended up having to work a few hours after the party ended, and was probably the last person in the building. As I turned in my work and shut down my workspace, I gathered my things and started heading towards the elevator when I noticed that one of the lights in the office was still on. "Someone must have forgotten to shut off the lights again" I muttered as I made my way to the workspace. There was really no consequence if I left them on all break, but it just didn't feel right to waste all that power and money for no reason. As I approached the cubicle however, I started hearing a faint sound. *Sniff*. I stopped in my tracks and held my hand to my ear to make sure I was hearing correctly. *Light Sob* I slowly and quietly walked over with the newfound realization I wasn't the last person in the building. As I peaked over the corner I was met with the sight of one of my older female coworkers sobbing into her arms in her chair, hair a mess and makeup running. I couldn't close up until she left so I decided to reach out to her.
"Hey, you alright?" I asked as I pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. She looked up at me dejectedly with puffy red eyes and sniffled, wiping away tears from her face.
"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be crying here," she said between breaths.
"It's ok," I replied softly. "Take all the time you need."
"I can't believe I let myself get like this. I've never done anything like this before," she continued as she wiped more tears from her cheeks.
"...You wanna talk about it?" I asked sympathetically.
"Oh god, it's not even worth talking about," she groaned. "It's just... I was at the party earlier today... and hearing all the other women in the office tell all these stories about how great their life is and how they all have family or lovers to go home to..." she paused to wipe another tear. "...and I realized that I'm not going home to anybody tonight, and that I'm spending Christmas alone and without any plans, AGAIN. And then I just... broke down and cried. I haven't felt this low since... well ever actually. I'm pathetic. This is why I hate holidays. It makes me realize how lonely I am at my age."
I have have an intense desire to ask just how old she is, but decide this probably isn't the best time. From what I could tell, while she had definitely seen better days (or years), she was still fairly attractive at her age, and I could tell she worked out and put a lot of effort into her appearance. So, I ended up just nodding along and offering some kind words.
"Well, you're not alone," you say. "I'm sure there are plenty of people looking for company tonight."
"Oh please, like anyone would want to spend the night with an old hag like me." she replies.
"I'm sure there are plenty of guys out there who wouldn't mind spending time with you."
She laughs a little bit. "I mean, I'm not bad looking, but I look like hell right now. I don't think anyone would want to hang around with someone like this. Besides, I'm sure you have someone waiting for you so I shouldn't take too much of your time."
"I don't, actually. I never knew my parents, and I've been single for a while. All my friends are on the other side of the country too so..."
"That's awful, a guy as handsome as you should-" She stops herself mid sentence as she realizes what she just said and blushes slightly.
I'm not sure if it's the eggnog talking, or if she does actually find me attractive, but taking a look through the window at the storm brewing outside, I'm starting to wonder if she's going to be able to make it back home. I ponder my options for a moment and make a move.