I never expected my Christmas to turn into a whirlwind of romance and betrayal. Invited on a magical air date, I thought I’d met the perfect man. But when two strangers claimed to be him, everything went wrong and I realized the real story had only just begun.
Christmas Eve at the radio station had its own rhythm: a predictable loop of cheerful jingles and holiday classics. I sat in my usual spot, the studio chair that on nights like this felt more like a throne, spreading Christmas cheer to an invisible audience.
The advantages of being single?
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I didn’t have to dodge mulled wine spills or awkward questions from family about my love life. Just me, the mic, and a playlist that screamed “Christmas magic.”
“Here’s another Christmas classic to warm you up,” I said, my voice soft and matter-of-fact. “And remember that Santa is listening, so be good, or at least be better than you were yesterday.”
The station’s phone lines had been busy all afternoon with cheerful callers sharing wishes and stories. But then her voice cut through the static: a rich, warm timbre, like caramel on snow.
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“Hello,” he began, with a confidence that could charm a Scrooge. “I’d like to dedicate a song to you.”
I leaned into the microphone. “For someone special, I hope.”
“Yes,” he replied, a playful smile almost audible. “For the voice that has made countless lonely Christmases a little less lonely. This one’s for you.”
I froze, blinking at the control panel as a blush crept up my neck.
It’s a joke?
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“Well, that’s certainly… unique. I don’t think I’ve ever had a song dedicated to me,” I said, hoping my voice sounded professional and not as nervous as I felt.
The line of text exploded. Messages appeared on my screen:
“Who is this guy?”
“Are we watching a Hallmark movie in real time?”
Even my producer sent a mocking emoji.
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We continued talking, the conversation flowing like mulled cider: warm, unexpected, and oddly comforting. Before I knew it, I had confided in him about my favorite Christmas tradition: visiting the small park near the mall, where an anonymous benefactor had transformed the place into a symphony of twinkling lights and classical music.
“It sounds magical,” he said. “Maybe we should meet there.”
The words hit me like a snowball in the face. I hesitated.
Was I really going to agree to an impromptu date live?
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“Why not?” I heard myself say, my professionalism wavering on the ice.
Listeners erupted. Calls poured in and the station’s social media pages lit up like Times Square.
My boss sent a text with one word: “Genius.”
In the morning, the chaos had not calmed down. I drank a cappuccino in the corner of a café, mentally replaying the surreal night. My colleague Julie came in as if she owned the station, with a broad smile on her face.
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“You’ve officially gone viral,” she said, sitting down across from me. “Now they want you to host a matchmaking segment. You’re basically Cupid with headphones on.”
“Wonderful,” I replied, trying to sound enthusiastic, even though my nerves were buzzing louder than the coffee shop’s espresso machine.
A date. A promotion. A spotlight brighter than any Christmas star.
Has Christmas finally decided to take me off its naughty list?
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***
The park sparkled under the glow of fairy lights, each bulb casting a golden glow over the freshly fallen snow. The air hummed with soft festive melodies, enveloping the scene in Christmas magic. I clutched my coat tighter, my nerves tinkling louder than the carols.
That night seemed surreal: a blind date with the man whose voice had captivated me live. But as I approached the imposing Christmas tree, I stopped dead in my tracks.
There were TWO men.
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For a moment I stood frozen, blinking as if the scene might change if I adjusted the angle. It didn’t. Both men turned to me, smiles as bright as the ornaments.
“You must be Anna,” the taller one said, stepping forward with a confidence that bordered on the cinematic.
His mischievous smile seemed permanently etched, and he carried himself as if he knew how to be the center of attention.
“Steve,” she added, holding out her hand as if it were part of a performance. “Your Christmas date.”
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I managed a polite smile, while my brain tried to connect the rich, mocking voice I remembered with the man in front of me. It seemed right. He certainly “seemed” like the kind of guy who would call a radio station to make a bold move.
Before she could answer, the second man stepped forward. He was shorter, with a warm but hesitant smile. He wore the scarf too tightly around his neck and adjusted it nervously as he spoke.
“Actually, it’s me,” she said, her voice soft but strangely familiar. “Richard. I called last night.”
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I blinked again, my gaze bouncing between them. Their voices were eerily similar.
Perhaps the faint crackle of the radio had blurred the distinction.
But their energy couldn’t be more different.
“Look, I know this is a little unexpected,” Steve said with a wink, “but isn’t this the kind of stuff Christmas movies are made of? Two guys, one magical night… all because of you.”
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Richard frowned. “I don’t think this is a competition.”
I stifled a nervous laugh. “This… is definitely not how I imagined tonight would go,” I admitted, my breath fogged up by the cold air.
“Well,” Steve said, flashing that million-dollar grin, “we can stay here and debate, or we can let the night decide. How about a potluck date? The best man wins.”
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Richard hesitated and looked at me for approval. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Sure,” I said before thinking about it too much. “Why not?”
Steve wasted no time taking the reins as if he were the director of the evening. He orchestrated an entire scene at the hot cocoa stand, juggling marshmallows and making the vendor laugh until he was in tears.
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“Extra whipped cream,” he declared, sliding the cup towards me with a wink. “Because someone as sweet as you deserves nothing less.”
Richard handed me a second cup. “In case you’d prefer less sugar.”
As we headed to the snowball fight area, Steve dove in like an action hero, dramatically shielding me from the flying snow.
“No snowball will touch this woman!” he shouted, earning cheers from nearby children.
Richard, meanwhile, knelt beside me, making a little snowman with a crooked smile.
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“I thought I’d need a bodyguard,” he joked quietly, adjusting the snowman’s stick arms.
It was on the carousel that my heart began to flutter. Steve pulled out his phone to take a selfie. “For the fans,” he said, holding it up as his perfect smile filled the frame.
Meanwhile, Richard reached out to steady my slightly wobbly carousel horse.
When we got back to the meeting point, Steve was leaning against the tree, his smile unwavering.
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“So, what do you say? Christmas with me? I promise it will be unforgettable.”
Richard, who was just out of the spotlight, stepped forward and gently took my hand. His touch was warm despite the cold. “Thank you. For giving me a chance.”
And then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the bright lights. Richard stepped back as if it were a graceful exit, saving me the awkwardness of making a decision and possibly hurting someone.
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And it all made sense. The confident, charming voice on the radio could only belong to Steve. His boldness, his demeanor, his easy humor… it was a perfect fit for the man who had captured my attention on air.
“Good choice,” he joked. “But let’s get out. This park is too… romantic for my taste. Honestly, who thought meeting here was a good idea?”
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I blinked. “You mean… you suggested it! It’s my favorite place, remember?”
“Me? Huh? How funny. I almost forgot.”
Why had she forgotten something like that? And why did it sound like she hadn’t even meant it? Maybe she had chosen the wrong man?
***
Determined to make a good impression, I had spared no effort. The soft fabric of my new dress hugged me perfectly, my hair shined as if I had a personal lighting system, and the subtle shimmer of my makeup looked like magic dust.
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When I arrived at Steve’s big house, I almost believed it might be a Christmas to remember. Grabbing my carefully wrapped gift, I adjusted the hem of my dress and rang the doorbell.
Steve opened the door. “You look amazing. Come in.”
I walked in. Couples were huddled in small groups, laughing over glasses of wine.
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And then I saw her.
Julie stood by the fireplace, her dress impeccable, her posture smug. She walked over to Steve and linked her arm through his in a way that said it all before she even opened her mouth.
“There you are,” she purred, her voice like syrup mixed with venom. She leaned down and kissed Steve on the cheek, her eyes never leaving mine. “Thanks for coming. Isn’t it wonderful?”
I froze. His words landed like small barbs, but the next ones hit harder.
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“You have good taste in men. Too bad you always come second.”
A wave of polite laughter swept through the room, but I couldn’t reply. Clutching my coat, I turned and stepped out into the cold. The bitter wind stung my cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. The magic of Christmas Eve had vanished.
***
Back at home, I slumped on the couch, burying my face in a pillow. Julie’s words played over and over again in my mind, each time more hurtful. I had trusted Steve’s charm, had let myself be carried away by the fairy tale, and had ended up humiliated by my jealous coworker.
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As I lay there, the soft hum of the radio filled the room, playing the same festive tunes I had blasted hundreds of times before. My fingers automatically reached out to turn up the volume.
Then I heard it: a voice I instantly recognized.
“I’m Richard,” he said, his words measured but full of heart. “I don’t know if you’re listening, but I’m waiting for you at your favorite place. If you’re willing to risk it one more time, I’ll be here.”
Richard? Waiting?
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I sat up like a flash, my pulse racing. I grabbed my coat and headed out into the night without a second thought.
When I arrived at the park, the sight stopped me dead in my tracks. The Christmas tree was brighter than ever, covered in sparkling lights that seemed to reach for the stars. The soft strains of classical music floated through the air, enveloping the moment in something that seemed magical.
And there he was. Richard. He was standing under the glowing tree, his hands in his pockets, his expression nervous but determined.
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“I know I’m not perfect in real life,” he said, his voice shaking as his eyes met mine. “But I want to try to be for you.”
The world around us blurred, the music fading into the background. There were no grand gestures, no ostentatious charm. Just Richard, honest and vulnerable. For the first time in years, the emptiness of Christmas was replaced by something entirely different.
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If you liked this story, you’ll love this one: I came to the island looking for peace, a new beginning to heal from my past. Instead, I found HIM: charming, caring, and everything I didn’t know I needed. But just when I was starting to believe in new beginnings, one moment shattered everything.
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