Friends left the group chat the moment I suggested we all chip in for a NewYears feast.
Maybe you should give them a call? I said, watching my wife, Gwen, move the Christmas ornaments from one box to another for the third time. Weve been mates for years
Whats the point? Gwen slammed the lid shut. Do you want me to sit there and hear how selfish Im being? Honestly, Im glad its finally over. It was high time we drew a line in the sand.
She set the box down in the corner of the living room and drifted to the floortoceiling window. Outside, snow swirled, blanketing our garden in a soft white cover. The view always soothed her, but tonight her heart felt heavy.
Remember how last year Megan and Peter were the first to say they were coming? Gwen wrapped her arms around herself. Sorry, weve got an early start tomorrow! And we ended up cleaning until three in the morning.
I walked over and put my arms around her shoulders. And their kids went and doodled on the kids bedroom wallpaper with permanent markers.
What about Claire? Gwen turned to me. Ill bring a salad! She hauled a couple of tins of Olivier from the shop, but she also walked off with half of my homemade mince pies. Can I have a bite?
Her eyes welled up. She blinked, fighting tears, and opened the nowempty group chat titled New Year2025.
The worst part is they never even asked why, she said. They just vanished, as if Im not worth a single conversation.
I took the phone from her and placed it on the windowsill. At least now we know who the true friends are and who only took advantage of our hospitality.
She nodded, recalling every previous holiday. Each year shed strived for perfectiondays of cooking, decorating, planning gamesonly to hear Oh, youre so generous and Lets do the next one at your place again.
Do you remember when Paul got upset last year because we didnt heat the sauna? I chuckled. Whats a celebration without a bath?
Yes, and he never even brought any wood, Gwen smiled despite herself. Then he texted all week complaining that he caught a cold at ours, as if we were to blame.
Outside, darkness fell and the snowfall grew, turning our garden into a winter fairy tale. Gwen switched on the fairy lights strung around the room, bathing the space in a warm glow.
You know, she turned to me, this is the first time in five years well ring in NewYears just the two of us.
I pulled her close. Then itll be the best NewYear ever. No one to prove anything tojust you and me.
and no kids with markers, she laughed.
and no endless one more round when everyones already spent.
She slipped out of my embrace and headed to the kitchen. Speaking of food, what should we make? Just for us?
How about we order sushi? I suggested. Ive always wanted to welcome the year with a roll instead of a plate of Olivier.
Sushi? On NewYears? Gwen stopped at the doorway, eyes bright. Thats brilliantno marathon cooking.
She pulled out her phone and opened the delivery app. Look, they even have festive sets. Oh, and we can order champagne too.
Perfect, I peered over her shoulder. Shall we deck the tree?
Absolutely, she grinned. This time well hang the ornaments however we like, not by some tradition rule.
We spent the evening stringing up the tree to our favourite tunes. No one mentioned my mum always did it like that or that tinsel is too bright. We just did what made us happy.
A week before NewYears, Gwens phone buzzed repeatedly. Claire messaged, Maybe we should still come? Megan asked, Did you get angry? and Paul, through his wife, wrote, Could have chipped in, no big deal.
Gwen didnt reply. She was busy with me, compiling a list of films for a marathon, picking board games, and planning a quiet holiday just for the two of us.
On the thirtyfirst of December, at elevenp.m., we curled up on the sofa. Sushi lay on the coffee table, glasses glittered with champagne, and the telly was playing the classic *Home Alone*.
You know, Gwen rested her head on my shoulder, Ive never felt this calm on NewYears Eve.
Me neither, I kissed the top of her head. No hustle, no obligationsjust us.
When the clock struck midnight we didnt make any grand toast. We simply looked at each other, smiled, and clinked glasses. In that moment Gwen realised that losing old friends wasnt a loss at all, but a gaina freedom to be herself and live the way she truly wanted.
The phone, left switched off since the day before, sat in the hallway. We stepped into the new year lighthearted, free of anyone elses expectations. It felt like the perfect start.
January1st broke bright and clear. Gwen awoke to sunlight slipping through the loosely drawn curtains. For the first time in years she felt wellrested on a NewYears morningno one barging in before dawn, no one demanding a second round of food, no crying children.
Good morning, I appeared in the bedroom doorway with a tray. Thought Id treat you to breakfast in bed.
Youre my hero, she said, accepting the steaming mug of coffee. Its oddly quiet, isnt it?
and tidy, I winked. No leftover wrappers, empty bottles, or dirty dishes.
She sipped her coffee, then reached for the phone to check messages. Six missed calls from Megan, four from Claire, even a personal text from Paul.
Dont read them, I said, snatching the phone away. Remember what we decided yesterday? No toxic chats at the start of the year.
She nodded, though a knot remained in her stomach. Years of friendship Could she really turn her back on it?
You know, I began, as if Id read her thoughts, Ive been meaning to tell you something. Remember last year when Paul started remodeling his house?
Of course, he bragged about it all summer.
And we offered to help. I spent three weekends there, wiring sockets, because friends help friends.
She frowned. What are you getting at?
After a month we needed help putting up a fence, and suddenly he was too busy. Same with Megan and Claire. Yet when we finished everything ourselves, they were the first to show up at the housewarming, just to admire the new fence.
Yes, thats exactly how it went, she said, setting her cup down. They always appear when its convenient for them, never when we actually need them.
I sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her. Its not friendship. Its a transactional relationship. The fact they got angry about a simple request to chip in for a party proves it.
A car rumbled up the drive. Gwen peered out and saw Megans sleek black sedan parked at the gate.
No, are they serious? I muttered. Do they think well just let them in because they show up?
There was a knock, then another, then a third.
Gwen, James! We know youre home! Megans voice was eager. Lets talk!
Gwen exchanged a glance with me. Should we let them in? At least hear them out?
Its your call, I shrugged. But remember our promise to make this year different.
She took a deep breath and opened the door. Megan, her husband, and Claire stood there, arms full of bagsfood, presents, the works.
Happy NewYear! they greeted, trying to sound cheerful.
Happy NewYear, Gwen replied, staying planted. What brings you here?
What else? Claire asked, surprised. We always get together on January1st. Its tradition!
Tradition? Gwen felt a surge of irritation. Did you ever think a tradition could change? Especially one where one person does all the work while the rest just take?
Come on, Gwen, we brought food, even bought champagne. Everything you wanted! Megan pleaded.
No, Gwen shook her head. I didnt want this. I wanted you to realise that friendship isnt just taking, its also giving. You cant treat our hospitality as a given.
Friends, we are! Megans husband retorted.
Friends? Gwen laughed bitterly. Where were you when we needed help with the fence? When I was ill last year and asked for medicine? When Jamess car broke down and we needed a hand?
A heavy silence fell. The guests looked at each other, unprepared for such a rebuke.
You know what, Gwen stood tall. Go home. I dont want to start the new year with old grudges and pretence. If you ever understand that friendship means give as well as take, give me a call. Until then were better off not speaking.
Gwen Claire began, but Gwen cut her off.
Goodbyes, she said firmly, and shut the door.
The hallway filled with the sound of a car starting and tires crunching in the snow. Tears welled, but a strange lightness settled over me.
Im proud of you, I said, pulling her into a hug. I know it wasnt easy.
Whats odd is I dont feel sad, she replied, turning to me. Its like a heavy backpack finally fell off.
Because those years werent friendship at all, just a strange dependence. You feared losing them and let them use you, I observed.
She nodded. From now on, things will be different.
Exactly, I smiled. Now lets have breakfast. We have a whole year of plans ahead.
After the holidays life slipped back into its rhythm. Gwen deleted the old group chats, archived the photos of past gatherings, and threw herself into work. She felt freer, no longer worrying about who would drop by, what to cook, or how to entertain.
Can you believe how much we saved? she said over a midJanuary dinner. Almost five hundred pounds on food, drinks, cleaning
And thats just the cash, I added. Think of all the time and energy we used to spend. Remember how youd prep for a week, then just unwind for another week?
She laughed, chewing a piece of roast chicken. Now Ive signed up for a photography course. Its something Ive wanted for ages but never had the time.
I finally finished the workshop in the garage, I said proudly. Two weeks and Ive done what Id been putting off all year.
A knock interrupted us. Our neighbour, MrsPeterson, stood on the doorstep with a fresh apple pie.
Evening, neighbours! Thought Id drop off a slicejust baked.
Thanks a lot! Gwen welcomed her in. Come in for a cuppa.
Over tea we discovered MrsPeterson also dabbles in photography and sometimes shoots childrens parties.
How about we go on a photo walk together sometime? she suggested. There are lovely spots around, especially now with the snow.
Wed love that! Gwen replied enthusiastically.
Later, as MrsPeterson left, I mused, Weve lived next door for five years and never really talked. All that time was filled with guests and preparations.
True, Gwen agreed. Shes actually interesting, and that pie was brilliant!
A week later the three of us set out for a winter photo walk. MrsPeterson showed us hidden lanes in the woods, taught us a few professional tricks, and we returned chilled but thrilled, our phones full of stunning shots and a promise to meet again the following weekend.
In early February Megan called. I watched Gwen stare at the incoming call before answering.
Hi, Megans voice sounded tentative. How are you?
Fine, Gwen replied calmly. Whats up?
Its Ive been thinking about what you said on NewYears Eve. You were right. We took your hospitality for granted.
Im listening, Gwen said.
I wanted to apologise. We were all wrong. Maybe maybe we could start over?
Mike, Gwen began slowly, Ive thought a lot too. I realised I dont want to start over because starting over would mean returning to the same expectations, the same roles. Ive changed, and I like my new life.
But weve been friends for years
Yes, we have. Im grateful for the good times, but sometimes relationships simply run their course. Thats okay.
After the call Gwen felt a final sense of release, as if the last thread tying her to the past had snapped.
Later in February MrsPeterson invited us to her birthday. It was a modest family gatheringher husband, daughter, soninlaw, grandchildren, and a few neighbors.
Can I bring my signature pie? Gwen asked.
Please do! she replied. And Ill teach you the secret for mine.
The party was warm and relaxed. Children played board games, adults swapped recipes and talked about spring plantingMrsPeterson boasted a splendid vegetable patch and offered tips on growing tomatoes.
You know, I whispered to Gwen as we headed home, no one got drunk, no one fought, no one had to crash on the couch.
And no mountain of dirty dishes, Gwen added with a grin. Thats what real, healthy relationships look likecomfort for everyone, no debts, just being yourself.
Back inside, Gwen opened the photo folder on her phone, scrolling through the pictures from the past year. She lingered on the old groupchat screenshots, then decisively hit delete.
Are you sure? I asked.
Absolutely, she said. You cant build something new while clinging to the old. I finally feel truly happy.
I pulled her close. Me too. It feels like weve finally started living our own lives, not the one others expected of us.
Snow fell gently outside, covering the world in a white blanket. Gwen watched the flakes drift down, thinking how sometimes you have to lose the familiar to find the genuine. And how brave you must be to let go of those who keep you anchored in the past, making space for those wholl walk with you forward.
A year later, December draped our village in fresh snow again, and the festive buzz was in the air. Gwen was arranging new photos in the livingroom framessnapshots from her photography course: sunsets over the lake, misty forest dawns, first spring blossoms, autumn colours.
Stunning! MrsPeterson exclaimed, admiring the pictures. We helped you with that new chandelier, didnt we? I finally got around to replacing the old one.
Its all thanks to you, Gwen replied. If you hadnt invited me on that photo walk, Id never have taken it seriously.
You even have students now, dont you? MrsPeterson teased.
Yes, a small group of beginners. We meet on weekends, practice lighting, composition, editing.
I came down the stairs, wiping my hands on a rag. Chandeliers up. Time for tea?
Over tea we talked about the upcoming NewYears street fête. Were planning a little community celebrationtree in the square, mulled wine, everyone brings a dish, MrsPeterson said. Will you both join?
Wed love to, Gwen answered. I can set up a photo booth with fairy lightsmake it look lovely.
Ill help with the tree, I offered.
Later that evening, while sorting through the attic, Gwen found a dusty box labelled NewYear2024. Inside lay old tinsel, handmade ornaments wed once made with Megans kids, and a photo album of previous celebrations.
She opened the album, smiled at how much had changed. No longer did she see posts from the old crowdMegan now had three children, Claire had moved to another city, and Paul and his wife had bought a new car.
What did you find? I asked, sitting beside her.
Just a reminder, she said, closing the album. We made the right choice. Look at everything good thats come into our lives this year.
I wrapped an arm around her. Exactly. Youre a photographer, I finally finished my workshop and even take carpentry commissions now. Weve got real friends
Remember the lake trip with MrsPetersons family? Just because, she recalled, laughing. And the kids asking her to teach them photography.
And you building a sauna with her husband, I added.
We fell silent, recollecting the past twelve months.
What matters most? Gwen asked suddenly. Weve learned to value our time and space, to say no when we dont want to, to choose who we really want around us.
And to be happy together, I said. Remember how we used to fear being alone on holidays? We thought we needed a big crowd, noise, and chaos.
Now we know happiness lives in the small thingsshared breakfasts, evening walks, comfortable silences.
I walked over to the window. Snowflakes drifted lazily in the lamp lightAs the snow fell gently outside, we raised our glasses to the quiet joy of a life finally lived on our own terms.
