I head out of the apartment, mug in one hand, keys in the other and check the mailbox. Visha’s supposed to go to school but considering he’ll be transferring soon, I don’t see the point in forcing him to attend.
“Hey, Aoi,” a cheerful female voice rips me out of my reverie. “What are you doing here handsome?”
“Sally? What the hell areyoudoing here?” I ask, confused considering she doesn’t live around the block.
She smirks and gives me a thumbs up. “My boyfriend lives here. Well, he’s not my boyfriendyetbut we’re basically getting hitched. That is if he answers my texts before I murder him.”
I raise a brow and shake my head. “You need to get checked for that delusion of yours one day.”
She gasps, feigning indignation. “Me? Delusional? How dare you!”
“You didn’t tell me about this almost boyfriend of yours.”
“You’ve been missing in action and not really replying in the group chat. Can’t really blame me now can you.”
“Ouch.”
“Just kidding. But yeah, it’s a recent thing. Don’t think it’s gonna last not gonna lie.”
I nod. “I’ll check the group chat later. Sorry I haven’t been present. I got a lot on my plate lately.”
“Your uncle giving you a hard time again?”
I laugh. “Not this time. It’d be easier if it were just that.”
“You know you can always talk to me about it if you want. War machine Sally will execute your enemies for you. You can count on me.”
“Thanks, but how about you stop your killing spree? First your almost boyfriend and now my said enemies? You’re a menace.” We burst out laughing and I sigh. “I have to go but have fun with your guy.”
“Thanks. See ya at Uni. Oh, and check your messages! We’ve got to party for the occasion.” She waves before exiting the building.
The occasion? What the hell is everyone talking about? I should really check my texts more often.
I head back up and hear a loud crash coming from the kitchen. “Oh my God, Visha!”
41
Visha
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The door slams open and Aoi rushes to my side, spilling coffee everywhere. “What happened?! What was that sound?” He stands in the middle of the room, his worried expression shifting to disbelief. “Are you serious?”
I purse my lips, holding back my laughter. “Happy Birthday.”
He starts laughing and runs towards me, embracing me tightly. “Careful, the package is fragile.”
He pulls away, grinning like a child and I feel myself fall deeper for him. He eyes the gift and the huge red ribbon on top of the wrapped box.
“What is it?” he asks, biting his lower lip. “Can I open it?”
I nod enthusiastically and hand it over to him. Our fingers graze during the exchange. He puts down his mug and wipes his hand with a tissue before carefully unwrapping the box.
Tears well up in his eyes when he realizes what he’s holding. “Oh my God, Visha…”
I wanted to get him something he’d always remember, something timeless and a token of my gratitude for the three years we spent together.
He slides his finger over the picture frame and the memories of our lives appearing with each touch. He holds the frame up against his chest and sobs. I never thought he’d cry.
