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I thanked him for the flowers before reminding him I’ll have my fill of cake soon enough.
Tomorrow is my birthday.
It’s the day I tell my husband that I love him.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes searching for an answer as to why I’m sitting on the floor wearing only a red bra and matching panties.
My hair is wet and wavy. For most of my life, I’ve viewed that as a curse. I’d rush to blow dry and straighten it as soon as I stepped out of the shower, but lately, I’ve come to love my reflection in the mirror when I see the soft waves surrounding my face.
“Hunting,” I answer with a light laugh.
He adjusts the waistband of his boxer briefs as he sits down next to me, tugging my hand into his. He feathers kisses over my knuckles before he closes his eyes briefly. “How long have you been awake?”
“Not long,” I lie.
It’s been at least two hours.
It’s hard to sleep when you feel as though you’re standing on the edge of tomorrow; on the precipice of the rest of your life.
That’s where I am.
Today, I’m Gina Calvetti.
Tomorrow, my wish for my twenty-ninth birthday is that I become Gina Lawton to the world. I want everyone to know that I married the most remarkable man.
He glances at the cardboard box in front of me. “What’s this?”
“Memories,” I whisper.
He leans forward to peer inside, and almost instantly, a bark of laughter fills the quiet space. “What the fuck, Gina?”
I laugh too when his hand dives in, and he yanks out a blue T-shirt with the name of a band stamped on the front along with their recognizable logo. I know it well. So does he.
I snag it from his hand before he can reclaim it as his. “That’s mine.”
He fists the bottom hem, giving it a firm tug. “Like hell it is. The last time I saw this was years ago. Jesus, how long has it been? At least eight or nine years.”
I pull hard enough that he releases the fabric. Before he can get ahold of it again, I have it bunched up and cradled near my face. I inhale deeply. “It was ten years ago that it went missing.”
“Went missing?” His left brow perks. “I thought your brother stole it from me. He was always borrowing my clothes, and he happened to love that band.”
“I took it,” I admit.
His gaze searches mine. “Why?”
I never imagined a scenario in which I’d have to admit this to anyone, especially not Daniel, but here I am. “Because it smelled like you.”
“You took it?” Confusion etches his tone. “You took my shirt, Gina?”
I nod softly. “I was visiting Dominick one day. You weren’t home, and it was there on the couch. I shoved it in my purse and ran out of your apartment.”
I expect him to laugh, but there’s no amusement in his expression. It’s all intensity as he stares into my eyes. “I had no idea you liked me that much.”
“It was a crush,” I explain. “I had a silly crush on you back then.”
“Is it still a silly crush?” he asks, his gaze dropping to my lips.
“It’s something,” I manage to say.
