My birthday. Today was my birthday, and somehow it completely slipped my mind. Sudden sadness washed overme, realizing that my new husband was not here to celebrate with me.
That afternoon, I began the task of winterizing the garden. Some flowers still bloomed, but I carefully trimmed away the dying buds and leaves that had succumbed to a week of neglect. I chose not to mention to Imalda that it was my birthday; it felt rather silly to bring it up, especially with Draven away.
I spent the rest of the day reading by the fire, and before I knew it, the hours slipped by, leaving me in the quiet darkness of the house. As midnight approached, I finally decided to retire, struggling to keep my eyes open in the cozy glow of the library. I made my way back to my room and opened the door.
I was startled to see an illuminated shadow on the porch. Draven stood there, his back to me, staring out into the night. He whirled around upon noticing me, his expression initially dangerous and angry, but it softened as our eyes met. He ran a hand through his hair and walked to the bed, sitting down heavily.
“I did not hear you return home,” I said, my voice a mix of surprise and relief. Cautiously, I approached and settled onto his lap, concern etched across my features. “Are you all right?” I reached out, brushing my fingers against his furrowed brow, searching for any sign of distress.
“I fear I may have lost my temper with Dr. Montgomery.”
“He did not take your departure well?”
“He did not. Things became quite heated, and it took some time for him to calm down.”
“You should have told him it was I who prompted your resignation. Perhaps that would have eased his anger.”
“I would not wish to place blame on my beautiful wife,” he said, kissing my cheeks. “I don’t want you to worry. This will not affect you.”
I hugged him, sinking into his warmth.
“Sorry I came home so late,” he murmured, nipping my earlobe.
“I missed you,” I confessed. “Today was my birthday.”
Draven pulled back and looked at me. “Why did you not tell me this morning? I wouldn’t have left,” he said.
“Truth be told, I had forgotten. I did not even realize what day it was until Imalda reminded me this morning.”
“My heart, I apologize that you had to spend today alone.”
“It is all right. We can spend next year’s birthday together, and you will still have a birthday.” Then it dawned on me; I did not know when Draven’s birthday was. I felt rather foolish for never having asked him such a simple question. “When is your birthday, anyway?”
“My birthday is in the spring,” he replied.
“And how old will you be?” I inquired, realizing I had no knowledge of his age. My foolishness deepened, and a wave of shame washed over me.
“Older than you,” he said, trailing kisses down my neck.
“That is not an answer,” I remarked.
“Why does it matter? Will you leave me if I am significantly older than you?”
“Draven,” I murmured, trailing my fingers along the buttons of his shirt. “How old are you?”
He let out a low chuckle, fingers brushing through my hair. “My body is about thirty, give or take. My mind … ah, that is rather more difficult to measure. At times, it feels as though I have lived more than one life. The things I have seen …”
I laughed lightly, though something in his tone made my skin prickle. “You make your life sound terribly dramatic.”
He smiled at me, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do I?”
“You are avoiding the question,” I said, poking his side. “I simply find it peculiar that I do not know my husband’s age.”
“Speaking of husband,” Draven began, ignoring my question, “I have a wedding present for you, though I think it shall serve better as a birthday present.” He took my hands and led me outside onto the balcony.
I gasped as I saw it. A blue flower, reminiscent of a rose, yet it glowed under the moonlight. Its petals unfurled in the darkness, releasing a sweet, intoxicating fragrance that filled the air. It sat in a pot on the bench, and I reached down to touch its velvety petals.
“It is beautiful,” I whispered, my eyes filling with tears of joy.
