Lottie scrunches her nose. “That’s still pretty old!” She bounces on her tiptoes, cupping her hand around my ear to whisper conspiratorially, “Uncle Nate is even older. He’s thirty-five! That’s even older than Daddy!”
“Is that so?” I whisper back, sneaking a glance at Nate, who’s watching our exchange with raised eyebrows. “Well, I think your Uncle Nate wears his old age very well.”
Lottie nods seriously. “Aunt Addy says he’s like a fine wine. I don’t know what that means, but it makes Grandma laugh.”
“Lottie,” Nate interrupts, his cheeks pink. “Why don’t you go help Grandma with the cake?”
She skips off, leaving us in a moment of charged silence. I can’t help but smile at how flustered he looks. “A fine wine, huh?”
“I’m going to kill Addy,” Nate mutters, but there’s no real heat in his voice. “Come on, we should join everyone before Mom starts wondering where we are.”
“Where is Addy, by the way?”
“Burlington. Jasper had to change the party after Lottie was unwell on her birthday so Addy’s missing it.”
As we make our way to the dining room, I notice how Nate’s hand finds the small of my back, guiding me through the doorway. It’s such a casual gesture, but it sends warmth spreading through my entire body. He seems to realize what he’s done and quickly drops his hand, but the phantom touch lingers.
Catherine has transformed the dining room into a celebration of sparkles and unicorns. Paper streamers cascade from the ceiling, and the table is set with plates featuring prancing horses with glittery horns. In the center, a magnificent cake takes center stage—three tiers of white frosting decorated with edible silver stars and a perfectly sculpted fondant unicorn.
“Mom,” Nate says, clearly impressed. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Nothing but the best for my granddaughter.” Catherine beams, arranging candles on the cake. “Caspian, dear, would you mind helping me with these?”
I step forward to assist, aware of Nate’s eyes following my movements. As I help Catherine place the candles, she leans close and whispers, “I’m so glad you came tonight. It’s been ages since I’ve seen Nate smile like that.”
I nearly drop the candle I’m holding, but before I can respond, Lottie and her friends burst into the room, followed by the rest of the party guests.
The room fills with excited chatter and laughter as everyone gathers around the table. Lottie bounces in place between Nate and me, her energy contagious. I steal glances at Nate while Catherine lights the candles, noticing how the warm glow softens his features and makes his eyes even bluer.
“Ready, everyone?” Catherine asks, dimming the lights. “On three!”
The room erupts in a somewhat chaotic rendition of “Happy Birthday,” with Lottie beaming at the center. I join in, but I’m hyperaware of Nate’s deep voice beside me, how our shoulders brush as we sway slightly to the familiar tune.
When it’s time to blow out the candles, Lottie takes a deep breath, screwing up her face in concentration. “Wait!” she exclaims suddenly. “I have to make my wish!”
She closes her eyes tight, and I catch Nate watching her with such tenderness that my heart aches. After a moment, Lottie opens her eyes and blows out all the candles in one impressive gust to enthusiastic applause.
“What did you wish for, sweetie?” Catherine asks, already picking up the cake knife.
“Grandma!” Lottie looks scandalized. “I can’t tell you! Then it won’t come true!”
She looks up at me with those big blue eyes. “Right, Caspian?”
“Absolutely right,” I agree solemnly. “Birthday wish rules are very serious business.”
As Catherine starts serving cake, I feel Nate’s breath against my ear. “She probably wished for more unicorns,” he murmurs. “Or maybe a real dinosaur this time.”
I turn slightly, our faces closer than I expected. “And what would you wish for?” I ask softly before I can stop myself.
The moment hangs between us, charged with possibility, until someone calls out, “Nate! Can you help me with the ice cream in the garage?”
Nate straightens, breaking our connection. “Coming, Dad!” he calls back, giving me an apologetic look before heading out of the room.
I watch him go, still feeling the ghost of his proximity, when Felix slides into the empty space beside me. “You two seem cozy,” he observes, accepting a slice of cake from Catherine.
“We’re just friends,” I say automatically, though the words feel hollow even to my ears.
Felix raises an eyebrow. “Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’d wish for something more.” He takes a bite of cake, then adds, “You know, the Wishing Tree in the city park is already accepting wishes for the Winter Wishes Festival. Might be worth a visit.”
