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Declan turned to me and his red cheeks softened as he said, “Chef-made, my dear. Happy birthday.”
I grinned and said through a mouthful of frosting, “They’re delicious.”
“He’ll let his chef know,” Mason joked.
Another man stepped forward from the small little crowd that Mason and Rian had wrangled up for me, and I would have fallen over if it hadn’t been for the two of them on either side of me.
“Holy shite!” I gasped.
“Now, if you promise not to attack me,” he said, “in return I might just be convinced to play you a birthday song.”
My fingers wouldn’t stop shaking as I fumbled around for my headphones which I’d yanked from my ears in my sudden fright.
“I—I—I was just— Here.”
I held out the headphones and the leader of my favourite band in the world, Danny O’Donoghue, stepped forward, leaned his head in toward me, and put my earbud (my fucking earbud!) against his ear. I screeched when he began singing aloud to the song. He winked at me when the song came to an end, handing back the earbud.
“No pepper spray then?”
I laughed (giggled really, giggled like a silly little girl) and blushed as I said, “No pepper spray.”
Danny held up his pinkie. I squealed again when mine wrapped around his.
“Promise?” he said.
I nodded enthusiastically. “Promise.”
My face must have gone a million shades of red when Danny then kissed my cheek and wished me a happy birthday. From there Mason and Rian guided me through their group of friends, introducing me to each in turn. I met the gloomy Darren, who handed over a metalwork heart like the one I’d painted on the side of the shop, without comment, despite how kind the gift was. I met the “gang from The Jar”: Noah and Aubrey and Candice, each bubblier and louder and more excited than the next. I met more people than I could remember the names of.
And I was happy and I was grateful. It wasn’t until we had nearly made our way through everyone as the music played and the drinks poured that I realised that I was still hopeful for just one more. Just one more.
I’d shaken all the hands, accepted all the little gifts, received all the warm birthday wishes, and there was still a little sadness in me, because he wasn’t there. Everyone else was there. Everyone I didn’t know, but wished to soon was there. A whole little family was there.
But he wasn’t.
Conor wasn’t.
For the rest of the night, I smiled, but falsely. I laughed, but only because I forced myself to. I had fun, but the kind of fun that I had to convince myself I was having. No matter how many people, all there for me, I was surrounded by, I still craned my neck to spy the front door between them.
Danny played for me and Declan let me pose with my fist against his cheek and Mason and Rian never stopped making me feel special, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the thing that I’d really wanted for my birthday, the one true thing I’d wanted, I hadn’t gotten. I hadn’t and I wouldn’t.
I shouldn’t have felt that way. I knew that. It was the most anyone had ever done for me for my birthday. It was the very definition of kindness. Of thoughtfulness. Of caring. I’d always wanted a family and that’s what Mason and Rian had given me for my birthday. It should have been enough. It should have been everything.
But Conor wasn’t there. So a part of me, a bigger part of me than I probably wanted to admit, wasn’t there either.
