Santa's hand trembled as he reached for the phone on his desk. He could call the elves together, make an announcement, control the narrative. But something stopped him. His fingers hovered over the receiver as he realized that calling everyone in would mean explaining. Explaining meant reliving the conversation. Reliving meant accepting it was real.
Instead, he sat back down in that leather chair and simply existed in the silence for a long moment. The office felt cavernous now, as if the walls had moved farther apart the moment Reginald's words landed.
Santa's eyes fell on a framed photograph on his desk—a picture of him from 1952, surrounded by elves during the post-war toy boom. He looked vibrant in that photo. Unbroken. When had the cracks started forming?
The answer came immediately: gradually. So gradually he hadn't noticed. One late night became two. Two became a pattern. The weight of Christmas grew heavier each year, but he'd simply gotten stronger to carry it. Or so he'd thought. Perhaps he'd just learned to ignore the pain.
He thought of the hot cocoa breaks he'd eliminated last year to increase efficiency. He'd done that himself, trying to keep up with corporate demands before Reginald had even arrived. He thought of the elves he'd pushed harder, the schedules he'd tightened, the traditions he'd trimmed back in the name of modernization. He'd been so focused on saving Christmas from change that he'd changed it himself.
The irony was almost funny. Almost.
Santa stood and walked to the coat rack in the corner of his office. His red suit hung there, waiting for him as it always did. But instead of reaching for it, he opened the drawer beneath and pulled out a small cardboard box. He'd never actually unpacked from his last vacation. A Hawaiian shirt still lay folded inside, along with a pair of flip-flops and a brochure for Cabo San Lucas that one of the elves had left on his desk months ago as a joke.
He stared at the box for a long moment. Then, with a decision that felt both impulsive and inevitable, Santa began to pack.
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