Read The Art of Forgiving - A Uni File Short (The Uni Files) for Free Online

 
    Acknowledgments

 
    This is the surprise
Christmas story I decided to write on a whim. I have my Jane Austen loving
friend Louise to thank for inspiring this Christmas short. I always wanted to write
it, but it was stuck in the back of my mind hidden behind too many other
storylines. I received an email from her a while back and something she said
worked like a magic key and unlocked the story from its hiding place. I then
set about capturing Ben’s Christmas story like I was being chased by the hounds
of hell before it could disappear again. I listened to Three Door’s Down “Here Without You,” about fifty times getting it right. I hope it
was worth it.
    Thank you.
    A.B

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    For
    AW
    For inspiring me with your bravery

 
 
 
 
    Copyright © 2013 Anna Bloom
    All rights reserved

 
    Thank you for purchasing this eBook. Please keep this book in its
complete original form with the exception of quotes used in reviews. No alteration
of content is allowed. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or
distributed via the internet without the author’s permission.
    This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living
or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The
characters and storylines are created from the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously.
    New Adult Contemporary Romance: This book is not recommended to anyone
under the age of sixteen due to strong language and scenes of a sexual nature.
    Cover Design by Shirer Burkett

 
 
 
 
    Christmas Eve

 
 
    The call that saves
Christmas arrives at ten.
    I am sitting like a sad fuck by myself because mum announced this
afternoon that she does not want me around. It seems that I am ruining everyone
else’s ‘Season to be Merry’ by moping about the house, singing ballads, and
drinking whiskey.
    Instead of joining in the
festive cheer downstairs I’m up in my room, pretending
to play guitar. I say pretending, because I’m really staring at the ceiling wondering just what
Delilah McCannon is doing. Lilah McCannon :
A.K.A The Girl of my Dreams isn ’t with me, which she should be. Technically she is
not even talking to me.
    Nope, I made sure that I wasn’t going to be spending Christmas with
Lilah weeks ago when she found me passed out with Becky, from our history
degree, lying next to me on my bed. It’s ironic really because Mum always
taught me to never leave a girl stranded and if you can help someone you
should. So I did, and the only person I did not help was myself. I’ve come to
the conclusion that helping people sucks.
    Lilah has not spoken to me since. Not one word. Okay she did send me a
one worded text, but that is all in weeks. I, in turn am giving her some ‘space,’
as I have been advised to do by our mutual friends. Giving someone ‘space’
sucks too.
    It’s killing me - a whole lot of ‘Death by Lilah McCannon Ignoring Me.’
    Now, what I have really wanted to do is march straight into her room, and get myself right into her space, preferably
initiating some skin on skin contact. I want to tell her that we just need to
stop messing about. That I want to ask her to marry me but I can’t the whole
damn time we are ignoring each other. Asking someone to marry you while they are
not talking to you is physically impossible. Well, if not impossible; it
definitely has embarrassment written all over it.
    “Lilah, I have been madly in love with you since the first time I ever
saw you, will you marry me?”
    To which she would reply. . . Nothing. Although I guess she may slam a door in my face which in many ways is more
of an answer than I would want.
    Lilah hasn’t come back to our shared Halls of Residence dorm since the
day of The Black Underwear, as I like to call the disastrous day when Lilah
barged into my room and found Becky Brown-Roots face down on my bed dressed
only in a thong. And whilst I have been loitering in the hallway at her