That puts a large smile on my face.
He notices how I smell. He notices the way I've been noticing him.
He pats his pants, checking for his keys and wallet, before turning back to me. My breath catches in my throat when he leans down once more and kisses my forehead, my eyes falling closed at the contact of his lips.
"Happy birthday, sweet girl," he murmurs against my skin, before stepping back and smiling at me. "I'll see you tonight. Seven. Enjoy your day till then."
???
Enjoy the day, I do.
After Callum leaves, I clean the kitchen and pack away the fruit neatly in my nice containers, snacking on some here and there. Then I take a nice, long shower, ignoring the hair that fallsout as I wash it. It's just going to keep happening till it's all gone, and I'm not going to let something inevitable steal this joyful day from me.
Two more packages are delivered.
The first is a delivery from my favorite bakery in town. Inside a pink-striped box are four decadently decorated cupcakes, each topped with a swirl of banana cream frosting and crowned with a single golden vanilla wafer. My mouth waters when I smell them, and I bring them to the kitchen, reading the note tied to the top.
Happy birthday, honey!
Wishing you a day full of peace, warmth, and love. We are so sorry that life has thrown so much at you this year, but we are incredibly proud of how you've faced it all with such grace and strength.
We're keeping you in our prayers and rooting for you every step of the way.
All our love,
Donna and Rich
Smiling and feeling so warm and loved, I send them a quickthank-youtext.
The next one is a basket from Avery and my coworkers—a cute little charcuterie basket that I put right in the fridge and texted Avery to thank her.
My phone explodes with texts from the book club, wishing me a happy birthday in our emoji-only language. My heart warms at the influx of all of these people in my corner, their texts a visual reminder that I am not alone.
I call Tess around lunchtime, and we talk for about an hour. She asks what I'm doing tonight to celebrate. I happily inform her that we'll be celebrating at the store.
I can hear the smile in her voice, "Good. I'm glad you're being celebrated. You deserve it, Soph."
"I..." I clear my throat, my voice a little sheepish as I tell her. “Callum, kinda... spent the night last night..."
"Oh?" Tess asks, sounding incredibly amused and intrigued.
"No, not likethat..." I sigh and flop down on my couch. "After chemo, I fell apart. I saw Paul and...heroutside the bar two nights ago, and I just lost it."
"Soph..."
"No, I'm okay. I needed to see it. Like firmly snapping a book closed," I tell her honestly. "Not that there was any possibility that I wouldwanthim back, but seeing it—seeing an... echo of what he did—I think it broke something that needed to break."
Tess is silent for a minute before she asks softly. "You ever hear ofkintsugi?"
"The pottery, right?"
"Yeah, so back when I was in Japan, one of the guys I worked with told me about it. It's an art form. They take broken pottery and, instead of throwing it away, they'll fill the cracks with gold. Not just to fix them, but to show off the damage. The cracks don't make it ugly—they make itmore beautiful. It was shattered, but someone took the time to put it back together. Like a message to the world:I was broken. And I survived."
My eyes fill, a few tears spilling over at her words, and she continues on, like she's not tilting my world on its head.
"I think your little book club—especiallyCallum," she teases, emphasizing his name, and it makes me blush. "They're your gold, Sophie. They're filling the cracks, and you're letting them. I thinkthat'sthe most beautiful thing."
"They are," I whisper, my voice hitching a bit.
