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“But am I wrong?”

I roll my eyes, and he kisses my cheek again.

“No.”

“What was that?”

“I said no.”

“Didn't hear you.”

I grab his face between my hands. “I said you're an annoying pain in my ass.”

“That's not what you said.”

“It's what I meant.”

He grins and kisses me again, and I laugh against his lips.

This.

Us.

Another birthday morning with my husband refusing to let me sleep because apparently birthdays need to be celebrated from the second I open my eyes.

He eventually rolls onto his back, and I follow, resting my head on his chest while his fingers move lazily through my hair.

“I'm happy you're having a party today.”

I trace a finger over his T-shirt. “Of course I am. It's my birthday.”

His fingers stop.

“You didn't have one last year.”

I frown and lift my head to look at him. “What?”

Something about his expression makes my stomach tighten.

“Last year,” he says softly. “You didn't celebrate.”

“What are you talking about?”

He brushes my hair away from my face, his touch so gentle that for a moment, I forget what I was going to say.

“I'm glad you're celebrating this one.”

“Dami—”

“I want you to have fun tonight.”

Tonight.

Something flickers at the edge of my mind, a thought I can't quite grasp.

“How do you know I'm going out tonight?”

He smiles, and I stare at him.