I have a love-hate relationship with Christmas.

Growing up, I loved Christmas, like all other kids. It's a holiday centered around presents and good food; what's not to love?

Christmas used to be my dad's favorite holiday, and after he died, that time of year always brought about a tension, but my mom made sure we remembered him. His name was never a source of discomfort in our home. She would talk about him freely and hold me when I missed him.

Every year we enjoyed Christmas because it's what my father would have wanted.

Even after my mother's death, I did my best to ensure Ollie had a good holiday. For the first three years, while we lived together, I would sing carols for him and leave things from Santa, even when he was too young to understand.

When they separated us, though...

It was hard for me to find joy in Christmas again. Every year reminded me of the people I'd lost.

My dad, my mom. Ollie.

When Ollie got placed with Antonella, she would invite me for Christmas dinner every year. And while I was happy that I got to spend it with Ollie, it just served as yet another reminder that my little brother lived with someone else.

That someone else was raising him.

I was sixteen when he moved in with Antonella, so I was too young to get custody. I'd just left the system myself, I was in no position to take care of a six-year-old, but it was still hard.

Today, it's not just hard. It's unbearable.

Because not only will this be the last Christmas Ollie spends with Antonella. It will also be the day that we finally tell him.

I squeeze Sophie's hand as we walk towards Antonella's house.

The snow is finally sticking, covering the ground in a thick, white layer. It crunches under our feet, the only sound.

I know Sophie's nervous too, but for other reasons.

She had her first therapy session earlier this week. I think it went well. She hasn't wanted to talk much about it, and she'd been entirely wiped out when she came back, her eyes red and her face blotchy, like she'd been crying.

All she said was that they spoke about her childhood and that she'd felt comfortable with the therapist. Then she kissed me and thanked me for making her go.

I'm so proud of her. I'm so proud of her for tackling her trauma head-on, trying to heal herself after running from it for so many years.

I'm proud of her for fighting for our relationship with me, even though I know it scares her half to death.

And I'm so freaking proud of her for coming here with me today. She went to the skatepark on Monday with Ollie and me, and he's warming up even more to her and her to him. I can see it in the way she smiles at him: all dimples and golden eyes.

I'm not entirely sure I understand just how difficult that must be for her; developing a relationship with my younger brother. Because Sophie knows that this isn't something she can just run from.

There is no such thing as no-strings-attached when it comes to children.

We pause outside the door, our breath coming out in white puffs in front of our faces.

Sophie turns to me, smiling over the oversized scarf she's wrapped around herself that covers her neck and half her face. "Are you okay?"

Something thaws in my chest, and I lean in, pressing my lips to hers. She starts a bit in surprise but kisses me back. I rest my forehead against hers. "I was about to ask you that."

"I'm good. I hope he likes his present," Sophie says, nerves evident in her voice.

I kiss her on the nose before straightening up. "He'll love it."

Then I knock on the door.

Ollie opens, wearing an oversized Christmas sweater and a giant smile on his face. "JJ!" he exclaims, throwing his arms around my neck, his cast digging into the side of my throat. I hug him back.

"Hi, Ol," I mumble into the curls of dark hair. I want to keep him here wrapped up in this hug because I'm not sure how many more of these there'll be after tonight.

"Hi, Sophie," Ollie says, smiling shyly at my girlfriend. She puts her hand on his shoulder, returning his smile warmly.

"Merry Christmas, Ollie."

We move further into the house. Antonella is in the kitchen, where I'm guessing she's been most of the day. When we enter the living room, we find half of the space taken up by a giant Christmas tree. It's strung up with all the lights and decorations, and something tugs in my chest when I look at it.

My dad would have loved it.

Ollie is in the middle of finishing up a game of solitaire at the table, and he flops down to do it while I lead Sophie to the tree.

She looks at the ornaments. Some new and shiny, others older, clearly some that Antonella has held on to for a while. She lifts her fingers, playing with an ornament of a tiny angel. It's older but still in excellent condition. Sophie looks at me, seeing something in my expression because she steps closer to me.

"It was my dad's," I say quietly, running my fingers over it as well. "I gave it to Ollie a couple of years back. You know, he never met him, he's not even related to him, but part of me still feels like he's his dad too... Does that make sense?"

Sophie leans her head on my shoulder. "From what you tell me, I think your dad would have loved to have another kid. So yeah, it makes sense to me."

"He was a great dad," I say, feeling the emotions rise in my throat. I miss him so fucking much this time of year.

Sophie is quiet, just sneaking an arm around my waist and holding me there while I let myself miss my father.

When I feel like I can breathe properly again, I kiss the top of her head. "I'm just gonna go talk to Antonella, okay?"

She squeezes my waist. "Yeah, I'll hang with Ollie."

She walks over to the table, challenging Ollie to some card game. His eyes light up. He loves games. Any kind, really, but particularly ones with a bit of strategy.

I walk into the kitchen. It's warm, and there's a heavenly smell of something roasting. Antonella is bent over the pots, hard at work.

I rap my knuckles against the doorframe quietly. Her head turns to the side, and a sad smile plays on her lips. "Hola, Jay."

"Hi," I say, walking in a bit further. I don't know what to do with my hands, so in the end, I grab a dish towel and begin drying a few freshly cleaned dishes because I know Antonella will never let me near the food.

That's her thing.

We work in silence for a while. "How should we do it?" I ask, putting a stack of plates back in the cabinet.

"We should just be straight with him. He's too smart for us to sugarcoat it," she says, and there's a strain to her voice.

I've been so worried about what will happen to Ollie and letting him down that I sometimes forget what Antonella is about to do. She could have fought to take Ollie with her, but I begged her not to. I couldn't bear being that far away from him, and she agreed.

But Ollie is her kid. She's the only mother he's ever really known, and now she's about to leave him. And that's going to be hard for him, so I can't even imagine how that might be for her.

"Okay. Now... or later?"

She turns to me, frowning. "Let him enjoy dinner first. We'll do it later."

I nod. Then I leave and go join the two others. Ollie is kicking Sophie's ass, but not because she's letting him win. No way, she's too competitive for that. Also, Sophie isn't the type to coddle someone.

She's concentrated, clearly trying to figure out her next move, but there's also a smile on her lips. She likes the challenge.

"Deal me in for the next round?" I ask, dropping down next to Sophie, putting a hand on her thigh.

Ollie looks over at me, raising an eyebrow. "No offense JJ, but do you even know the rules?"

I honestly have no idea what they're playing, but they each have two rows of cards facing up on the table, in turn placing one in the middle between their rows. They're both pretty focused on it. Ollie is doing his best to match Sophie's poker face, neither of them letting anything on.

"Not sure. What's the game?" I ask, caressing Sophie's thigh.

She swats my hand away under the table, and I chuckle under my breath. "Turnover bridge," she answers, triumphantly picking the ace of spades and smirking at Ollie before grabbing the two cards lying on the table between them.

That goes on for a while until Ollie is crowned the winner with a few more 'tricks' than Sophie - whatever that means. She's scowling at him, but there's a smile playing on her lips, and her eyes are soft and golden.

"Hijo, clear the table; the food is almost done," Antonella says, carrying out a tray of plates and such. I begin setting the table while Ollie packs away the cards, and Sophie goes to offer her help in the kitchen.

She and Antonella get on very well.

The food's good. No, the food is fantastic, which isn't surprising; Antonella is a great cook. While we eat, the conversation flows easily. Ollie talks about the books he's reading over winter break and which friends he's hanging out with on New Year's Eve.

Antonella asks Sophie about herself but keeps it light and surface level. I haven't needed to say anything to Antonella; she just instinctively knows not to dig too deep.

We also talk about the Big Ten Conference that's coming up a few weeks from now. It's my last major meet as a college swimmer, and it's oddly nostalgic.

🏊‍♂️

After dinner, Sophie has to fight Antonella to get to do the dishes, but when she sends her a loaded look, glancing towards Ollie, Antonella nods.

We need to have this conversation, and Sophie knows to excuse herself. Maybe one day she'll be in a position to be a part of important moments like this, but not yet.

"Hey, Ol, can we talk to you?" I ask, my voice shaking a bit.

I think I might vomit. I honestly don't know how he'll react to any of it. Antonella leaving, me failing to get custody, him going to another family. Us keeping it from him...

Ollie takes a seat on the couch. Antonella sits beside him, and I drag a chair over to sit there.

A heavy silence descends upon us, only broken by the clinking sound coming from the kitchen as Sophie moves around, cleaning up.

"Ollie," I start, frowning. "There's something... um, we need- so you see..."

Antonella shoots me a look as I stumble over the words. I've never felt as much of a failure as I do today. Not even when I lost in Paris.

I've let him down.

"Hijo, there's something we need to tell you," Antonella takes over, looking at Ollie with a sad expression.

He's picking at the cast on his left arm, his head bent, shoulders tensed. "I know."

"You know what?" Antonella asks.

"I know what you're going to say," he says quietly, still keeping his gaze down.

Antonella and I share a look, surprise in each of ours.

"How?" I ask, worried about how calmly he's handling this.

Finally, he lifts his head, eyes darting between us. "I overheard Toni talking to her family about it at Thanksgiving." He shoots her an apologetic look, a bit of color appearing on his cheeks. He feels bad about eavesdropping. "I understand Spanish, you know."

"Oh, amor, I'm so sorry," she says, leaning over to take his hand. He lets her. "That's not how you should have found out."

I don't know what to say.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Ollie asks, looking at Antonella.

She sighs, glancing over at me. I take a deep breath. "We needed time. I needed time so that when we told you, we'd have a concrete plan."

"And do you?" This time his eyes are on me.

I want the earth to open and swallow me because I know what I need to say. I know which word I should speak. But nothing has ever felt as hard as saying this one little word.

An eternity passes in a few seconds while I stare back at my little brother as he waits, trusting that I will have the answers.

But I'm all out of wisdom.

"No."

His face falls, and he looks down again, shrinking in on himself a bit. "What now?"

I look to Antonella, who's watching the exchange between us with furrowed brows. She takes my cue.

"A couple just put down an offer on the house. If it goes through, they'll take over by February. I'll be moving then."

"You'll be placed with a new foster family. They're already looking for one," I say, trying to keep the emotions from my voice.

Another family. Someone who's not me.

Antonella moves a little closer to Ollie, saying something softly in Spanish. He answers, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Seeing Ollie cry breaks my heart into a million pieces, and I doubt it'll ever truly heal from this pain.

How did I let this happen?

Antonella brushes the tears away, her own voice catching as she says something more. It seems fitting that I don't understand. This is between the two of them. She envelopes him in a hug, and he clings to her, tears falling freely.

I stare at the tree, wondering if I'll ever get to love Christmas again or if this year will permanently taint it.

After a while, Antonella stands up, kissing Ollie on the forehead. "I'm gonna go see if Sophie needs help," she says, walking past me, and I notice the sheen to her eyes.

Ollie is looking at the tree, avoiding my eye,

I take Antonella's seat on the couch. "I'm sorry, Ol."

"It's okay, JJ."

"No." I shake my head. "It's not. You need to understand that this isn't how it was supposed to go."

He turns his head, brows furrowed. "How was it supposed to go?"

I run a hand through my hair, gripping the length of it. "You know how I wanted to go pro after Paris?"

He nods.

"I don't make any money right now, Ol. Everything I get from my scholarship covers the bare necessities. It's barely enough for me to live on." I take a deep breath. "Going pro was supposed to make me financially secure. They require that..."

A few beats pass while neither of us speaks. "You... You wanted me to live with you?" Ollie asks, a tentative hope in his voice.

I turn my head fully towards him. "I still do, Ollie."

A slow smile begins spreading on his face, and the surprised disbelief breaks my heart. How could he ever question that? "Really?"

"Of course." I tug him towards me. "I love you, little brother. And I'll find a way. You'll have to go somewhere else for a little while, but I'll get you out."

He slips an arm around my waist. "Promise?"

"Promise." I swallow, pressing my eyes together, afraid to hear the answer to my next question. "Would you... Would you have preferred to go with Antonella? To El Paso?"

He's quiet for a long while, his fingers tugging at a loose string on his shirt. "I'm gonna miss Toni, but... But my school is here, and all my friends..." He looks up at me. "You're here. I don't want to go."

A little weight lifts from my heart, and I hold him tighter.

This is not how it was supposed to go, but Ollie doesn't hate me. We can figure this out.

🏊‍♂️

"We made hot chocolate," Sophie says, entering the room with a tray in her hands. On the tray are four steaming cups, a small bowl with whipped cream, and another with marshmallows.

Ollie straightens up, pulling away from me a bit, a shy expression taking over his face. I don't take it personally. I know it's not a rejection of me. He doesn't know Sophie very well, and being vulnerable around strangers is hard for him.

I pat his shoulders and motion to the couch for Sophie to join me. When she moves to sit down next to me, I pull her onto my lap. She stiffens a bit, her eyes wandering to the two other people in the room, but Ollie isn't looking at us, and Antonella has a knowing smile on her face.

Slowly, she relaxes under my touch, melting into me.

And everything feels a little bit better. Because Sophie's here.

We all take a cup, filling them with whipped cream and marshmallows. Sophie takes a sip, a soft white layer of cream doting her upper lip, and I get the urge to lean over and lick it off. But that might be somewhat inappropriate.

Instead, I use my thumb, smiling at her softly.

"Can we do presents?" Ollie asks. He's curled up on the other side of the couch, eyes fastened on the cup in his hands.

Usually, we exchange presents on the morning of the 25th, but when I glance at Antonella, she's nodding, a sorrowful expression on her face. Her lips curved upwards a bit in a slight smile, brows arched, eyes melancholic.

This night has been hard, not just on Ollie but on Antonella and me too. We all need a little bit of cheer.

I reach over, ruffling his hair. "Sure, Ol."

Ollie crawls under the tree handing out the presents. I got him some new elbow and knee pads for when he skateboards. It's met with a lot of eye-rolling, but when I look pointedly at the cast, he smiles, thanking me.

Sophie got him a big, leatherbound book that looks like it could crack a coffee table under its weight. But Ollie's eyes light up.

"Shakespeare?"

"You think you're up for it?" Sophie challenges, her legs pulled up as she sits sideways on my lap, fingers caressing the back of my neck slowly.

Ollie's eyes are wide and excited, and he glances from the book to Sophie and back again. Then, he eyes the hallway leading to his room, like he wishes he could go start right now.

I'd never know how to get him a present like that, but Sophie gets it without issue. I hug her a little tighter.

Antonella gets cookbooks from me, a soft sweater from Sophie, and homemade sweets from Ollie. He made them in my kitchen a few days ago. Being able to help him felt so reminiscent of doing it with mom that my body didn't know what to think. Was this a sad moment or a happy one?

Then there are the presents from me to Sophie and vice versa. I'm oddly nervous about this. Because presents are indications of something serious. How well do we actually know each other? Sophie knocked it out of the park, which shouldn't be surprising by now. She had a family tree poster made for me, adorned with my immediate family; Ollie, my parents, my grandparents, and then this new family I'd just found out I have.

Greta Hansen and her kids and their kids. I've already told Ollie about the expansion in our family, so now I show him their names, explaining the few things I know about them.

I haven't decided if I'm going to reach out. Maybe one day, when things here are a little more solid. Maybe one day, Ollie and I could meet them.

They might not be his blood relatives, but that's never meant much to me. Family is what we make it.

When Sophie slowly unpacks her present, my heart goes into overdrive. Oh god, what if she hates it?

I knew to avoid jewelry. Sophie would make fun of me forever if I gave her something cheesy like a heart necklace.

I couldn't give her a book either since I know shit about those. So instead, I got her a framed photo. It's from Cleveland. Mitch is obsessed with