---- Chapter 15 My birthday was approaching. A day | usually dreaded. For years, it had been a source of anxiety, a reminder of my insignificance in Ethan' s world. | decided to keep it low-key this year. Just a quiet dinner with Noah. No fuss. The memories were still too sharp. One birthday, in particular, stood out. Ethan had promised to take me out, a rare treat. 1' d bought a new dress, waited for hours. He never showed. He' d "forgotten." He was with Isabella, a lavish party for one of her socialite friends. He' d sent a curt text the next day: "Sorry. Slipped my mind." No apology. No remorse. That was the year | stopped expecting anything. ---- This year, | decided to buy myself a small gift. A set of beautiful, professional-grade architectural pens |' d been coveting. A small act of self-affirmation. | was an architect. | deserved good tools. | walked home from the art supply store, the small bag clutched in my hand, feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction. As | climbed the stairs to my apartment, | smelled something ... sweet. Vanilla. And chocolate. Strange. | opened the door. My small living room was transformed. Fairy lights twinkled. A small, slightly lopsided banner read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIA!" And Noah, wearing a flour-dusted apron, emerged from my tiny kitchen, a sheepish grin on his face. "You' re early!" he said, feigning frustration. "The cake' s not quite... perfect." | just stared, my bag of pens slipping from my numb fingers, scattering on the floor. "Noah... what... what is all this?" ---- He gestured around the room. "Surprise?" Tears welled in my eyes. Happy tears. Tears of disbelief. He' d remembered. He' d planned this. For me. He disappeared back into the kitchen and emerged with a small, homemade cake. It was a little uneven, the frosting slightly messy, but it was clearly made with love. A single candle flickered on top. "It's... it' s not from a fancy bakery," he said, looking a little unsure. "But | made it myself. Chocolate, your favorite." | couldn' t speak. | just launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck. The cake wobbled precariously. "Whoa, careful!" he laughed, steadying it. My tears soaked into his shoulder. Tears of overwhelming, unexpected joy. "Make a wish, birthday girl," he said softly, his voice full of affection. | closed my eyes. | wished for this. For this feeling, this man, this life, to last forever. ---- | blew out the candle. He had gifts, too. Small, thoughtful things. A rare art book on sustainable architecture he' d found in a used bookstore. A framed photo of us, laughing, on a hike we' d taken. And a small, unassuming, velvet-wrapped box. My curiosity piqued. What could it be?