“It’s...” He clears his throat. “Actually, that box isn’t made anymore. That model was unique.”
“Oh... that’s a shame,” I say, unable to hide my disappointment.
Again, a pause. “I can check if there’s something similar.”
“No, please—don’t trouble yourself,” I reply quickly. “It’s already inspired me to look for something like it on my own.”
The line goes silent for a few seconds, but it isn’t awkward. I stay still, listening to the faint sound of his breathing.
“How are you, Cecily?”
I think for a moment before answering.
“Today? I’m good,” I say honestly. “My kids surprised me this morning. They gave me a beautiful, unexpected gift. And then yours arrived... so yes, it’s been a lovely day. I plan to spend the rest of it with them. I really can’t complain, can I?”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his tone. It makes me smile too.
It’s strange… we’ve only spoken a handful of times, and yet it feels as though we’ve known each other much longer. It’s been like this since the day I met him in the Hamptons.
“Yes,” I whisper. “It’s been a good day. My children are my whole world.”
I hesitate, then ask, “Do you have children, Alexander?” Before he can answer, I rush to add, “You don’t have to answer that if you’d rather not.”
“I don’t mind answering anything you’d like to know,” he says, without a hint of hesitation. “And no, I don’t have children. I’m not married… or dating, either.”
“Oh.”” The word slips out. I instantly feel foolish. “Well... I won’t take up any more of your time. Thank you again, truly. I loved the gift.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” he replies. “And I meant what I said—you can call me anytime, for any reason.” His tone is warm, steadying me the way it always does. “I’m glad you liked the present, Cecily.”
We say our goodbyes, and when the call ends, I sit there for a moment.
I pick up the pen again, and that’s when I notice it.
I place it beside the card, comparing the two. The handwriting—my name, etched in silver on the pen—it’s the same. Almost identical.
“Oh my God, no,” I groan. “Mark, why would you do that?”
I cover my face with both hands the moment I see the waitress approaching. A medium-sized cake balanced in her hands, two unlit candles forming the number 38 on top.
He knows how much I hate attention, and there’s nothing more mortifying than people singing Happy Birthday to you in the middle of a restaurant.
We’d spent the whole day together, making the most of what we could despite the cold outside. But my heart had been warm all day—warmed by Alicia and Ethan’s laughter, every time Marksaid something in that irreverent, typical way of his, or pulled one of his little stunts.
Before we left home, I’d received a few more gifts. One from my editor, another from my digital content creator, and sweet ones from Felicity and Oliver.
My parents sent something too, but I asked Mark to open it and pass it along to someone he knew. Colin texted early in the morning to wish me a happy birthday, I reacted with a simple thumbs-up emoji.
This is the first special date on the calendar, since everything happened, that I haven’t felt the ache of his absence... or wished things had turned out differently.
The waitress sets the cake in front of me, lights the candles, and—to my complete horror—Alicia, Mark, and even the waitress start singing.
When they finish, I blow out the candles. The room fills with applause from nearby tables. I smile quickly, eyes skimming the faces around me without really focusing on anyone and mumble a quick thank you.
As soon as the waitress leaves, placing plates and forks for the cake, I turn to Mark. “You’re going to pay for this,” I say, trying not to smile.
He shrugs, smirking. “Do your worst.”
I shake my head and accept the slice Ethan hands me. The cake melts on my tongue, the filling tastes like blackberry jam. I decide, right then, that this is my new favorite cake.
