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Azzaria giggled and rested her head on my chest. I felt her letting go at this moment and I’m sure it wasn’t eating at her anymore. But I knew she wouldn’t feel too safe on her own and so I reached out to Abigail. Just to ensure that she’d be safe and happy around those she loves.
“I don’t have clothes here, so I’m going to head home to get ready. I’ll see you there.” She pressed her cold, soft lips against mine, tugging at my hair.
“I’ll see you later.”
She grabbed her stuff from the previous night and made it through the door. About three minutes after the door shut, she messaged to confirm that she was safe.
“Mother.” I could’ve went through the day without her.
She sighed. “Don’t take that tone with me. Happy Birthday my son. Remember the gala is tonight.”
How could I ever forget? It’s my annual gala, a tradition that aligns with my birthday.
Ever since I was twenty and secured my first cyber software deal with the highest bidder, I’ve had the means to host this event. It started humbly with around 20 attendees, but with each passing year, as my wealth grew, so did the number of guests.
Now, we’re looking at an impressive count of three hundred and ten attendees. The gala wasn’t centered about celebrating my birthday; it was a meaningful event that supported a cause very dear to my heart.
“Thank you, and yes, I’m well aware of the gala. Anything else you need? I have a busy day ahead,” I responded. My words held a ring of truth, but it was also a subtle attempt to encourage her to end the call.
“Please, call your father. He’s concerned about the growing distance between you two,” my mother urged, her voice carrying the weight of her concern.
“It’s my birthday,” I stressed. “Tell him to call me, and just so you know, I won’t be visiting today or any other day. Goodbye, Mom.”
It’s hard to hate the people you should love and it’s easy to love the people you should stay away from. The people who were to give me all the love in the world, ended up giving me nothing but hurt and heartbreak and I was tired of it.
“Fine,” she sighed, “I love you.”
I pressed the end call button and continued with my day. Deep down, I knew her declaration of love was empty.
After all, she had always shown an affection for wealth, power, her lavish lifestyle and I definitely wasn’t about to fall for her web of deceit and false sentiment.
In other news, I looked down at my phone and a smile took permanent form on it. My beloved sister had messaged me to which I quickly responded with a “thank you, I love you.”
Mara Xander-Williams
Happy Birthday! I love you. You’re my bestfriend and I’m so glad you’re in my life.
Mara has always excelled in the art of extravagance, radiating sunshine and embracing the extraordinary.
I fondly recall our childhood days when she’d enthusiastically shout “Happy Birthday!” at the top of her lungs and present me with a cupcake adorned with a flickering candle. It became our cherished tradition.
Although I may not have matched her extravagance, I consistently made heartfelt cards. Now that both of us are financially secure, we’ve transitioned to more valuable gifts, yet the true essence of sentiment remains unsurpassed.
As the clock struck eight-thirty, I swiftly collected my belongings and headed downstairs to meet Mikkel. To my surprise, his typically stoic facial expressions bore a rare sight today—he appeared happier. Interesting.
“Happy Birthday, Xander,” Mikkel greeted me.
“Thank you, and drive a little faster, Suarez. I’ve got a hectic day ahead of me,” I responded with a chuckle.
I strolled into the sleek, modern building that housed my office. The familiar scent of polished wood and fresh flowers greeted me as I made my way through the double glass doors.
The elevator ride was swift and silent, and soon, I was on the top floor where my office was located.
“Happy Birthday,” Azzaria practically shouted when I entered my office. Wow.
This must’ve been why she left the left the penthouse early. A pout crept up on my face, not because I was sad, but because I was in shock. There was even a personalized banner with my name on it. Helium balloons with the numbers “33” were floating around, streamers and confetti were everywhere, and balloons filled my ceiling. A banner that read “Happy Birthday Dillon” was also hanging in this space.
“I’m in shock, excuse the lack of words,” I said, putting my bags down and walking over to her. “You did all this?”
