Last night on the boat with Dean was just indescribable. He had me screaming and moaning like a bona fide pornstar. There wasn’t a single spot in his yacht he hadn’t fucked me on, and my poor, battered pussy was left nearly destroyed from all the rough sex we had. Who would’ve guessed that Dean—a charming, handsome, and refined man—was such a beast in bed?
He’d chosen to spend Christmas and New Year’s with his family and friends at his parents’ holiday house—or rather, their mansion—up in Byron Bay. Just before we parted ways, he promised to text and call me every day. And though it’s only day one, he’s already blowing up my phone so much that I had to silence it the moment I arrived at Skylar’s doorstep. I make a quick mental note to check it before bed, but for now it’s family time.
My mother, Tina, knocks on the door first, while Kirstin, my sister’s best friend, and I, stand on either side of her holding our luggage and a bag of groceries.
A few minutes later, we hear the sound of the door unlocking and Skylar’s muffled voice muttering, ‘Oh my God,’ on the other side before the door swings open.
“No bloody way!” my sister screams as she bursts out the door, practically launching herself into my mother’s arms with a joyful squeal, her excitement infectious and childlike.
“Merry Christmas, my darling,” my mother says, her voice catching as she holds back tears.
Skylar releases Mum and charges straight into me, throwing her arms around me in a bone-crushing hug. “I can’t believe it. You guys actually came!” she cries out in exhilaration, the sound of her voice trembling with emotion. We cling to each other, swaying side to side, completely lost in our little moment.
“Hey, what about me?!” Kirstin exclaims, flinging her arms around Skylar from behind in a warm embrace. Before we know it, we’ve become one big, swaying bundle of hugs and gleeful squeals. Off to the side, mum stands quietly, dabbing happy tears from her eyes with the collar of her shirt as she watches us, her face glowing with joy at seeing us all reunited again. After what feels like hours of hugging and crying, we finally pull away and follow Skylar into her apartment. She guides us to our shared rooms to drop off our luggage before giving us a quick tour of the place.
Her apartment is enormous—easily twice the size of my studio in Sydney. Yet it feels strangely empty. Sure, there’s furniture in every room, but the walls are bare, with no photos, artwork, or even a single plant to bring it to life. It lacks all the little touches that make a place feel like home. I can’t help but wonder if this starkness mirrors her own world—hollow, distant, and void of any warmth.
After the brief tour, we dive straight into preparing a Christmas Eve feast with the ingredients we picked up from the grocery store on our way over. Mum has chosen to make her signature maple honey glazed ham with fresh mango and avocado salad, while Skylar whips up some mouth-watering cheesy garlic and herb bread using the soft bread rolls she already had in her pantry. Kirstin and I are on dessert duty, since we’re the two least skilled in the kitchen, but we’ve decided to tackle the traditional pavlova.
We all move in perfect sync around Skylar’s kitchen as Christmas tunes fill the air.
Singing along to all our favourite classics, we belt out each song with wildly off-key renditions—so much so, you’d think we were deliberately trying to butcher them.Sorry, Mariah!Between sips of wine and bursts of laughter, we throw ourselves into our cooking, intent on making this a Christmas to remember.
“This is literally the best surprise, you guys. I’m so happy you’re all here!” Skylar says, looking genuinely thrilled.
“Honey, we would never let you spend Christmas and New Year’s alone,” my mother says, as she glazes the ham for the third time before placing it back in the oven.
“Sorry to say but you’re stuck with us for the next ten days,” Kirstin playfully teases.
Skylar winks at her best friend. “You’ll get no complaints here.”
Once the food is cooked and ready to serve, Kirstin and I set the table and pour wine into everyone’s glasses, while my mother and sister deliver the food to the table.
We gather around the circular table, pausing for a quick prayer of thanks and hope for the new year before diving straight into our meal. As I glance around at all my loved ones together underone roof, an irrepressible smile of pure joy spreads across my face. This is what it should always feel like—home.
My smile grows wider as I watch Skylar laughing and joking with Kirstin, her laughter so genuine it’s almost as if the heartbreak and pain she’s endured over the past few months never happened at all.
Since she left Sydney, we’ve made it a priority to stay in touch, checking in regularly to see how she’s doing. I can imagine how difficult it must be to uproot your entire life to move to a new city, leaving behind family and friends and starting over on your own.
The way she’s navigating it all while also grappling with her own grief is a true testament of her strength and resilience. I can honestly say, I have never been prouder to call her my sister. She has accomplished what few others could in the same situation.
“What’s that smile for?” Skylar asks, pulling me out my thoughts.
“I’m just so happy to be spending time with you, that’s all.”
“Well, I for one am thrilled to have you all here. Seriously, this is the best gift I could have asked for this year.” She lifts her glass up to cheer and we all clink our glasses together.
“You’ll always have us, sweetheart,” my mother says with a warm, nurturing smile.
“Don’t ever forget that.”
“Thanks, Ma. I won’t.”
“So, catch us up on what’s been happening with you?” Mum asks.
“Aside from furnishing the apartment, I’ve been at work the past couple of weeks getting everything ready for my new Pre-K class next year. It’s been nice catching up with my old boss and meeting some of my new colleagues at the school.”
“And how are you coping with everything else?” Mum probes.
