Amber
Christmas music played in the background, tinny and half-drowned by the hum of my old laptop fans.
It still felt like a magical time, even though I’d recently turned eighteen.
I’d teetered on the edge, worrying about becoming an adult, until my mum’s birthday gifts turned out to be a mixture of all my favourite childhood games and toys—just grown-up versions of them.
My mother had always been my rock. When my dad started a new family and wanted nothing to do with me, it was her who took me away on holiday. She’d been present for me every single day. The one person I knew loved me unequivocally.
My stomach dropped thinking of him. The comparison sat at the opposite end of the scale.
I stared at the textbook, then my screen, forcing my focus back to the equation. The numbers blurred, refusing to sit still long enough to mean anything. These final exams were crucial for the university I wanted to get into.
Yet I hesitated, and lifted my phone to tap my social media app anyway.
Zachary Rayne.
The angry boy who came with Clive. The only other man my mother had deemed safe enough to let into our lives, only for tragedy to strike.
I thumbed through his recent posts.
His poses were nonchalant, and like always, he was surrounded by people—all teeth and easy confidence, the kind that made a room bend toward him without him even trying.
I was old enough to understand now. He’d never seen me as a sister. I was the nuisance. The entertainment for him and his friends.
Then he broke when Clive died.
Rejected my mum and me. As soon as he turned eighteen, he fled for university. My mum tried to reach out multiple times, but her efforts fell on deaf ears. Her adoptive son wanted nothing to do with either of us.
What he failed to understand was that Clive’s death had devastating consequences for us too. My mother had waited years to find someone amazing like Clive, and I’d finally got to experience what a functional father figure felt like.
His sandy hair looked more brown than gold now he’d cut it short, but neither colour mattered when you were drawn to his eyes. A vibrant green that turned almost turquoise under the right light.
Butterflies gathered in the pit of my stomach, unwelcome and familiar.
My first crush.
I felt sick.
The knock on my door had me sliding the app up the screen to exit. I turned to see the door open before my mum poked her head past the doorway.
“How’s it going?”
“Like I should be taking a break from studying such mind-numbing topics,” I said, grinning.
“There should be a rule against studying on Christmas Eve,” she said, stepping into my room.
I turned the music down as she sat on my bed.
“So, I invited Luke over for Christmas dinner,” she said nervously, both hands twisted together in her lap.
“Wow,” I said, pushing my feet down to swivel my chair towards her.
It had been five years since my mum became a widow. Five years for her to find someone again.
“Good for you, Mum. Luke seems nice,” I said, nodding as I considered the man she’d been dating recently.
A Christmas invitation was a big step—but then again, she’d invited my boyfriend over too.
She cleared her throat and toyed with the gold-beaded chain around her neck. A gift from her new boyfriend.
“I hope you’re using protection, mother.”
Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.
I was happy for her but also, eww.
“I should be saying that to you,” she said when she recovered.
I almost rolled my eyes. She got pregnant with me when she was nineteen. Condoms and contraception had been a topic she drilled into me. It was painful and embarrassing every time.
“I will announce when I decide to have sex, mother.”
“You will?” she said, so hopeful and gullible that I felt bad for her. “No. Now go away.”
She deflated and shook her head.
“You’re lucky that I love you so much,” she muttered.
“Close the door on your way out. Love you too.”
I was still smiling when I opened the drawer. Found my notebook. Looked at the picture of all four of us. Ten years had passed so quickly, and everything was changing again.
Even then, I’d been looking over at Zach, but his focus stayed on whoever was taking the picture. His furious scowl said it all. Mum and Clive stood united, hands clasped together, smiling wide.
Once upon a time, I’d been ecstatic to gain a dad and an older brother. My childish hopes and dreams of becoming a real family. A family that my friends took for granted. Families I’d only ever watched on television.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as the humiliating memories flooded back.
It was Christmas, and I would not let Zach ruin another one.
No matter how badly my heart hurt.
I closed my notebook.
I’d moved on.