“Yeah, about that,” Jemma turned in the swing to me. Her arm rested behind me, and she looked worried. “There is something I do want us to talk about.”
“What would that be?” I didn’t think I had anything big coming up soon. Most events we were planning were next year since it was getting closer and closer to the holidays.
“Your birthday.” I’d brought the water bottle up to my lips, but placed it back down, and screwed the cap on. I didn’t turn to Jemma, but I knew she was staring me down. Her two words rang between us—something I hadn’t considered at all this year.
Another year. Another birthday.
“Fuck.” The word slipped out, and Jemma placed a hand on my deflated shoulder.
Birthdays were always rough for me, and for a long time, I didn’t celebrate. Not until after Jemma and I became close, and she weaseled it out of me. I always made her promise nothing fancy and no big parties. Take-out and movies were the staple. It was easier with it being in the middle of the holiday season.
“I know we normally just do an ‘us’ thing, but I didn’t know if you wanted to change that with Ryker in the picture now.”
“I honestly hadn’t thought about it.” Tears were starting to form in my eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Jemma.”
I looked over at her, and the slight worry she had before became tenfold as she wiped away a tear that broke free.
“You’ve never told me why you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday, but this reaction tells me there is more to this, and by god, if his name is Parker, I will fuck something up.”
“Jemma,” I scolded her.
“Don’t Jemma me. You know I hate that man for the shit he did to you.”
“Yeah,” I sat up straighter. “As much as I’ve been able to move on, and what he did doesn’t affect me as much anymore, this one kind of takes the cake. This has probably been the one thing that’s stuck, and I haven’t worked to move on from.”
“Why?” Jemma asked.
“I think because it was the one thing that I could just pretend didn’t happen and no one would question it, because, let’s be honest, my family doesn’t care about my birthday. I didn’t reallyhave friends to care; and all in all, it just became something that didn’t exist.”
We sat there in silence as I took a few more drinks of water.
“Tell me what happened.” Jemma’s tone was soft, inviting me to tell her the last secret I kept from her. I’d told Jemma literally everything else about Parker and my life but this one thing; it was something that I’d kept locked away.
It’d changed a pivotal day in my life forever, and I had accepted that it was always going to be that way. Except now it wasn’t. I had people in my life who loved me and wanted to celebrate me and be with me. It was different, and now something I needed to face.
“It was the first birthday I had while dating Parker,” I started. “We’d been dating for almost a year; we’d been together since right after my birthday the previous year. I’d made friends with a lot of his friends. We hung out with them on the weekends, so I thought, why not just throw myself a party? The day came, some of his friends were helping me set up, and then everyone showed up. There were at least ten to fifteen people at my apartment. We had food, appetizers, drinks, music flowing, and movies on in the background. I’d already had my Christmas decorations up, so it looked a bit like a birthday party and Christmas party at the same time.”
I laughed, thinking of that night. It had been a wonderful setup, and his friends had done such an amazing job helping me.
“What happened then?”
“Well, everyone was there.” I took a deep breath and nodded my head. Prepping myself for the second half of this story. “Except one person.”
I looked over to Jemma, whose eyes were like daggers at me.
“Mother-fucking Parker.”
I let out a bellowed laugh at her outburst.
“Yes, mother-fucking Parker.”
“What the fuck, Odette?” Jemma exclaimed, but I continued.
“I tried to call him multiple times, and so did his friends. No one knew where he was. I thought the worst, like he was in a ditch somewhere. I ended up in the bathroom for about an hour, sitting on the floor, crying, having a full-blown panic attack. I called and called again. Left voicemails. Sent texts. Nothing.”
I was looking up at the sky now, trying not to let the tears fall from my eyes at the memories. The memory didn’t make me sad, but the remembrance of the motions I felt that night sat in my chest. I grieved for that girl who just wanted to be loved.
“When I walked out of the bathroom, I could tell by the looks on people’s faces that they knew he wouldn’t be showing. Kimmy, one of his friends whom I had grown super close with, brought out the cookie cake she’d gotten me, candles lit. I looked around as all of his friends sang happy birthday to me, but he was nowhere to be found. And while a lot of them were my friends too, it didn’t feel like I had anyone there for me.”
