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“You look absolutely stunning, Thalia,” Sara adds, her hand resting on my shoulders as she studies my face for a brief second before pulling me into a tight hug.
God… the whole place feels like a fairy tale.
The courtyard, the houses—every corner is dressed in carefully chosen decorations, lights spilling over rooftops and windows, wrapping everything in a soft, golden glow. It feels unreal, like we’ve stepped into a different world entirely, one I still can’t fully believe I’m allowed to be a part of.
Every year, I’m left speechless, still trying to process the fact that these people made room for me in their lives, that they welcomed me into a family so whole, so warm.
The thought stings faintly behind my eyes, catching me off guard, so after hugging all four of them, I step aside for a moment, watching as everyone else takes their turn, letting the feeling exist quietly instead of fighting it.
Once we step inside, we leave our suitcases by the door and scatter wherever there’s space—some of us sinking into the living room couch, others gathering around the table, voices overlapping, laughter rising, conversations blending into a kind of chaos that somehow still makes perfect sense.
Strangely enough, in the middle of all this noise, we still understand one another. And it hits me instantly…
This is everything I’ve ever wanted.
The family I used to dream about without even knowing what it would look like. People I matter to. People who matter to me just as deeply. Attention. Safety. Respect. Love.
I found all of it the moment I found Sierra—when she offered me her friendship, without hesitation, and with it, this overwhelming sense of belonging I didn’t even realize I’d been missing.
For that, I’ll always be grateful. Being her friend didn’t just change my life—it gave it shape.
“Aren’t you tired?” John asks, glancing at his watch.
“We slept on the plane,” Colt answers. “We’re more hungry than tired.”
“Is there seriously nothing to eat in this house?” Zayn shouts from the kitchen.
We all burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the house as the moms rush toward him like he’s committed a crime.
“Don’t you dare touch the Christmas dinner food,” Sara yells.
“We have something else for now,” Maya adds quickly.
“But it’s already Christmas,” Chase points out. “It’s 3 a.m. Technically, Christmas day.”
Laughter breaks out again, the chaos in the kitchen only adding to it, while Maya and Sara start laying out an impressive spread of food on the table.
“Jesus,” Zayn says, amused, “did you cook for an entire army?”
“They’ve been cooking for two days,” Mathew replies with a chuckle. “And we weren’t allowed to taste a single thing.” He shakes his head, overly dramatic.
“Oh, please,” Maya cuts in, stopping in the middle of the kitchen with her arms crossed. “You didn’t taste anything, but you didn’t exactly help either.”
Mathew gets up from the couch, walking over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist before pressing a soft kiss on her lips.
“My love, who went shopping with the staff carrying five different lists?”
The rest of us—me, Sierra, and the guys—fall quiet for a breath, watching them with amusement… and a warmer feeling that lingers a little deeper.
Their interactions are always like this—effortless, full of affection and respect. Both couples are the kind of example anyone could admire.
The kind of love people don’t just want… but hope for, even when they don’t say it out loud.
It’s what I want too. What I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.
And I can't help wondering—how Ethan, growing up surrounded by all of this warmth, all of these examples, doesn’t want the same thing.
Why doesn’t he want a relationship?
