HAPPY FRIENDSHIP ANNIVERSARY

"Sometimes coming home isn't about a place, it's about the people waiting inside."

The house stood quietly by the shore, its pale blue walls kissed by sea spray, as if it had been holding its breath for this moment.

The weekend had finally arrived, the one circled in each of their calendars in different colored inks.

Not for a holiday. Not for an event. But for something more sacred: their friendship anniversary.

Nora was the first to arrive, naturally.

She stepped out of her car with a checklist in hand and a soft smile playing on her lips.

The salt in the air immediately curled her hair, but she didn't mind.

She adjusted the lantern by the door, lit the welcome candles she brought from home, and took a deep breath as if inhaling a hundred memories all at once.

Next came Amelia, her suitcase rolling across the porch as she clutched a tin of cookies and her well-worn journal to her chest.

"You brought cookies," Nora grinned.

Amelia winked. "And nostalgia."

Laughter drifted through the house before they even unlocked the door.

Then came the hum of an old bike.

Kai, wearing sunglasses he didn't need, burst in with a backpack full of snacks and chaotic energy.

"The house still smells like pine and poor decisions!" he shouted dramatically, arms wide open.

"You're dramatic," Nora said flatly, but she smiled anyway as Kai hugged her and dipped Amelia into a twirl.

Eli arrived quietly, as he always did, with a camera slung around his neck.

He leaned against the doorway, watching them from behind the lens before finally stepping in.

"You're late," Nora teased.

"I'm fashionably nostalgic," he replied, handing her a framed photo of the five of them from their university days.

The edges were slightly worn, the smiles eternal.

Just as they began to settle in, the final car pulled up.

Lena stepped out slowly, her eyes scanning the house, then the ocean behind it.

Her fingers trembled slightly at the memory of the first time she'd walked into this place, unsure, anxious, a newcomer among old friends.

But this time, Kai ran out to meet her, grabbing her suitcase and pulling her into a hug so tight it knocked the doubt from her shoulders.

Inside, the house bloomed again.

Blankets were draped over the couch.

Photos were slid into corners and tacked onto walls.

Candles flickered in soft corners. Music played low, a mix of throwbacks and soul.

They didn't plan any grand opening speeches.

The moments formed themselves, unfolding like pages in a book, only they knew how to read.

Eli lingered near Nora more than usual, helping her unpack, reaching for the same mug, brushing past her in the kitchen.

She noticed, but brushed it off with a smile, too busy coordinating beds and food to read into it.

Kai took over the music.

Amelia curled up with her journal. Lena stood on the porch and let the sea breeze hold her.

Later that evening, after the sun dipped low and the sky melted into honey and lavender, they all gathered around the fireplace with mugs in hand.

No big speeches.

Just laughter. Inside jokes. Side glances. The warmth of being known.

At one point, Amelia said softly, "Do you realize it's been almost a decade since we first met?"

The silence that followed wasn't heavy, it was reverent.

Like a group prayer disguised as stillness.

"Then here's to surviving each other," Kai grinned, raising his mug.

"And choosing each other," Nora added.

They clinked their mugs.

Outside, the ocean whispered.

Inside, something sacred was unfolding.