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Gifts that were thoughtful—not just some random purchase.
I realized in that moment that I was—happy.
Content.
Nothing else in the world mattered right now, other than making sure Cherry felt the same.
“One more gift, hurry up,” she said, tilting her head lazily as she leaned to the side. She tried to disguise it, however, I saw her let out a small yawn.
She was tired from preparing for my birthday.
That knowledge made my heart squeeze almost painfully.
I moved the last box over—it was heavier than the other two. Cherry watched intently as I ripped the wrapping paper and opened the lid on the sturdy box.
There was red tissue paper inside this time, and I gently pulled some of it out.
A plate appeared.
My heart stopped as I picked it up.
Old, patterned China from years ago.
Under that was another plate of similar size, but with a different design.
“I saw your collection upstairs in the library and thought maybe you’d like them. They’ve both got roses around the edges,” I heard her say, but I was too busy staring at what she’d given me.
Feelings I hadn’t allowed in for years came flooding back, and a burning sensation tingled behind my eyes. I took a deep breath and calmed myself. “They’re—they’re—beautiful. Absolutely perfect.”
She smiled and said, “There’s a card on the bottom.”
I peered into the box, and sure enough, there was a large, red envelope with “Nick” written on the front in large, swirling letters. My eyes took in the heart she’d drawn beside my name, and I felt my own heartbeat quicken.
Opening the envelope took no time at all. As I slid the card out, I read the front. “To the guy who has everything,” it said, making me peer up briefly at Cherry and smirk. She had a small smile on her face, but something else about how she looked caught me off guard.
Hesitation? Worry?
Then I noticed her smile didn’t extend to her eyes. Those beautiful eyes that I could look into for hours at a time.
What was she concerned about?
“What’s wrong?” I asked, setting the card down and staring at her, unable to discern exactly what had changed in the last few minutes.
I’d thanked her for the gifts—genuinely thanked her.
And I knew that because I honestly loved everything she’d given me.
“Nothing, just open your card,” she said in a small, barely-there voice—which was unusual for her. Finding her voice was not something Cherry struggled with. I opened my mouth again to speak, but she beat me. “Please, Nick? Read the card for me.” There was an odd edge of desperation in her tone that made me increasingly nervous.
I decided to finish reading the card before getting down to the reason for her sudden change. When I opened the card, my eyes immediately shot to her swirly writing. “Happy Birthday, Nick. I hope your day held many special moments. Love, Eve.”
A sudden bolt of lightening cracked right through me—or at least that was what it had felt like. It started on the side of my head, zinging into my brain, my heart, and directly into my stomach, leaving waves of tingling in their wake.
“Love, Eve,” it said, my eyes stuck to those two words that meant more to me than anything else in the world at the moment.
I allowed myself a minute to compose myself, because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this out of control. So many emotions, so many things floating and swirling around in my heart and in my brain—much like Eve’s handwriting, swooping and diving across the page.
Eve.
