“Thank you. Is there an email from August, perhaps?” The words tumble out before I can stop them, mixing hope with a pang of longing.
August has never missed a birthday before.
Jamie pauses, a digital breath of sorts, “No email, but I’ll keep an eye out and let you know immediately if something comes in.”
“Thank you,” I murmur.
The silence that follows feels heavy. Lying there, I can’t help but allow myself a few extra minutes in bed. I should feel different, older maybe, but all I feel is the same quiet loneliness that’s become too familiar.
Although not quite.
Finally, I throw back the covers and decide to make an effort with my appearance today.
For the only one who knows that today’s special.
Me.
As I stand before the mirror, I carefully curl my hair into soft waves and apply a bit more makeup than usual. The reflection staring back at me looks composed, but inside, my thoughts are a whirlwind, replaying the moments from yesterday evening like I already did half of the night while lying awake.
Grey’s unexpected tenderness, his fingers, his licking ricotta off mine,his closeness.The playful banter sparked something unfamiliar and exhilarating in the pit of my stomach.
And when he called me Princess…
It wasn’t just a word. It was a whisper that made my heart stutter.
His hug lingers in my memory—a real hug, the kind that said more than just goodbye—it feltsafe. No one has hugged me in the two years I’ve been here. And even in the time before, no one has ever hugged me likethat.
I remind myself that hugs and pet names are just that for some people. Things you do with no meaning behind them.
Grey is probably just a kind person beneath his grumpy exterior and that perpetual scowl. His kindness doesn’tnecessarily signify that he wants to be friends, and assuming otherwise could lead to embarrassment or, worse, heartache.
And even if Grey really becomes a friend, I can’t risk losing that over a silly crush that will never be reciprocated. Despite my reservations, I can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of our planned walk on Sunday.
That’s something friends do, right?
Nobody goes on a walk with theircoworkeron aSunday.
Stop it, Amelia. You’re overthinking again.
But it’s hard not to. The hug wasn’t just comforting—it felt like belonging, and that’s something I’ve craved for too long.
With a deep breath, I finish getting ready, telling myself to keep my expectations in check.
Today is just another day.
The hug was just a hug.
But as I head out the door and down to the lobby, part of me hopes it might turn out to be something a little more.
I could use a friend that is not a string of code.
The brisk morning air sweeps through my hair as I stride toward Elysium. Reaching my office, the first thing that catches my eye is a package sitting on my desk—Twizzlers Twists, the strawberry ones, neatly tied with a bright red bow.
Curiosity piqued, I walk over.
Hendricks catches my eye as I lift the package, and he offers a sheepish grin. “Happy Birthday, Stanley. Willow told me, and… well, I thought I’d get you something since she’s practically indebted to you for all the Twizzlers she’s swiped from your stash.”
I laugh, genuinely touched by the gesture. “You didn’t have to,” I say, but I’m really glad he did. “Thank you.”
