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As Gabe moves around the studio, grabbing plates and forks, a sense of surrealism washes over me. I watch him in a state of mild disbelief. It’s hard to grasp that he’s here, in my apartment. After so long, all of a sudden here he is, humming “Happy Birthday” under his breath, setting up a casual dinner as if no time has passed since the last time we saw each other.
We sit down at my small dining table, the intimate space drawing us closer. I sneak a discreet pinch under the tablecloth. Nope, not dreaming. The charming, thoughtful, devastatingly handsome Gabe is really sitting across from me right now.
But as we catch up over fettuccine Alfredo and breadsticks, I remind myself he’s just a friend—an old friend who barely has time for me anymore between med school and his family. Still . . . the way his blue eyes dance with interest as he asks about my classes and the new hobbies I’ve taken up—photography and crocheting—makes my pulse quicken all over again.
Our conversation flows easily like no time has passed. I tell him about the children I’ve been babysitting and the bookstore. He talks of med school kicking his butt, deliberating between specialties like pediatrics or surgery. Through it all, a sense of contentment takes over me. I’ve missed this—missed him—more than I realized.
As he talks, I find myself stealing glances at him. The way laughter lights up his eyes, the easy curve of his smile—it all makes my heart flutter in a way I can’t quite control.
After dinner, Gabe opens the white box. Inside there are four beautifully decorated cupcakes. He selects one, placing a candle on top, and ignites it with a flick of a lighter. His rendition of “Happy Birthday” is charmingly silly and it makes me giggle.
“Make a wish,” he says, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends shivers down my spine.
I close my eyes, torn between wishing for something as special as a kiss from him—our first kiss—or something more meaningful. Ultimately, I choose the latter, a wish for purpose, a direction for my life. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and then blow out the candle, sending my wish into the universe.
“What’d you wish for?” Gabe asks, leaning in as his eyes search mine for clues.
“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” I tease, flashing him a playful smile.
He scoffs. “I can’t argue with that logic.”
“Everyone knows that’s a rule,” I say, playfully sticking my tongue out.
We share the cupcakes, sitting side by side on the small green couch that sits beside my bookcase. Our shoulders brush, the proximity sending waves of electricity through me, making my pulse quicken. I listen to what he’s been doing, but all too soon, Gabe checks his watch. “I should get going. Early day tomorrow.”
A wave of disappointment crashes over me, settling heavily in my stomach. Without a word, I rise and walk him to the door.
There’s an awkward pause as we stand in the doorway, and the air thickens. I quickly snap out of it so I don’t push myself up and kiss him.
“Thanks again for everything, Gabe,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “This was the best birthday.” My eyes meet his, holding a mix of gratitude and something more, something I prefer not to name.
Gabe hesitates, then pulls me into another warm hug. It feels like a safe haven in a sea of mixed emotions. As he steps back, our eyes meet again, and there’s a quick moment where it feels like he might lean closer. Just close enough to kiss me. My heart leaps into my throat, but at the last second, he turns, his lips brushing my cheek instead.
“Good night, Ame,” he murmurs. And then he’s gone, leaving me standing in the doorway stunned as I watch him disappear toward the stairs.
Foolish girl. When will I learn? He’s just a friend. That’s all he’ll ever be. With a resigned sigh, I close the door.
I clean up the remnants of our impromptu birthday celebration, replaying the evening in my mind.I’m genuinely touched that Gabe remembered my birthday and put so much effort into making it special. Yet, beneath it all, there’s an undercurrent of disappointment—I wanted a lot more than a sweatshirt, food, and a song.
All I want is him. Both of us falling madly in love with each other, a promise of forever and . . . I sigh because I sound stupid.
After rinsing the dishes, I step out onto my small balcony overlooking the city. The night air is cool and crisp. I wrap my arms around myself, lost in thought.
My mind turns to the wish I made—to find meaning and purpose. I’m in my sophomore year of college and yet, I feel like I don’t know where I’m heading. I envy some of my friends—the ones who have their careers mapped out while I flounder, rudderless and unsure.
But how can I do that when my father keeps reminding me that I have to go to law school? Maybe, just maybe, this time he’ll let me leave the state, but only if I keep up with my grades. Perhaps I should consider Columbia. He says it as if they’ll have me. Doubtful.
What I would like to do is restore art or old houses or . . . I’m not sure what exactly, but I want to do something that preserves history. But I can’t even dare to dream of creating my own path. The truth is, I’m afraid. Afraid of making the wrong choice. Of committing to one thing only to regret it because maybe my father was right. Or perhaps it’s just that I don’t have the courage to go against his wishes. Paralyzed by fear and indecision while everyone else moves forward.
Izzy says to just get through law school . . . that it’s not so bad. But can I survive three more years toeing the line? Burying my dreams just to please Dad? I don’t know if I’m that strong.
My phone chimes, jolting me from my thoughts. It’s a text from Gabe.
Gabe: Made it home safe. Thanks again for a great night. Let’s do it again soon. I’ve missed you.
Ameline: Missed you, too. Definitely repeat soon. Good night. :smile: emoji
Taking a deep breath, I turn to head back inside, ready to go to bed.
