There is always a place for you here.

That’s what you told Jack when he left Lucktown to pursue his dreams of being a writer. A published, recognized author; no more days of you simply reading his sloppy handwriting in notebooks while he worried about how he would ever make it out of this town alive.

At first, he was just gone for a few weeks to sort out his contract, advances, press, etc. Then he was gone for a few months to work on some editing and the planning of his next novel. Then he was gone for a year as this became his regular life. He moved to Sydney, so far away from you. He published short stories and news articles. He dabbled in journalism and speech writing. By the time the second year passed, he had a new novel circulating. In fact, he had two — he had a lot of time on his hands during the holidays.

Speaking of holidays…

It’s been a little over two years since you last saw Jack. He could never leave Sydney, and you could never leave Lucktown. Though maybe these were just excuses; maybe you were both running away from the love you had for each other.

Well, Jack was running away. You never left.

It’s three days before Christmas. When Pete’s car pulls into the lot of the diner, everybody bustles with excitement. Jack is home. To some people, he’s their baby boy. To others, a best friend, or a wingman, or a brother.

To you, he’s just Jack. He’s everything. And now he’s home.

You dropped the rag you were using to clean the countertop and bolt out of the diner’s front door. In several large bounds, you leap into your best friend’s arms. He laughs brightly and spins you around.

“There [pronoun] is!” He exclaims joyously. “My little koala bear. I missed you so much, y’know that?”

Sure, your best friend might be the author of the most popular romance novel series in Australia. Sure, everybody in the country may be talking about him. But right here and right now, he’s the same sweet Jack that left two years ago to follow his dreams.

There will always be a place for him here.