I really didn't Know—it was her birthday today. I insisted that I would be driving, so…
"Where are we going?" she asked when I changed directions and didn't head toward her house.
"My house," I said.
"Your house? But why?"
"I'll drop you at my house, and you'll drive yourself home."
"Oh…" she said, clearly disappointed.
When we reached, I got out of the car, opened her side of the door, and asked her to come out. Just when she turned her back to me, I pulled out a scarf and blindfolded her.
"What are you doing, Edwin? Remove this!"
"Endure it for a little while," I said, and carried her into the house, laying her gently on the couch.
I started decorating the space around the couch where she sat. I baked a chocolate cake—just enough for the two of us—and decorated it with tiny flowers. On top, I wrote:
"Happy Birthday, Love."
DONE! It took me an hour.
I switched off the lights, lit three candles on the cake, and asked her to take off the scarf.
I started singing, "Happy birthday to you…"
I could see the glow in her eyes and the smile on her face.
"I am your love," she asked, teasingly, unsure if she heard me right.
"You are," I said with conviction.
She made a wish, blew out the candles, cut the cake, and fed me.
"Sorry, I wasn't able to get you a gift," she said.
"Then can I ask you for one?" I said.
"Of course. Something very simple," she smiled.
"Tell me you're mine," I asked.
"I am yours," she replied.
"You're mine. You said it yourself. No taking it back," I grinned, "and I've recorded it too." She laughed and showed me the screen recording on her phone.
"I am yours for life, Everett."
"You are mine too."
We both started giggling like idiots, two people completely lost in love.
She took some cream from the cake and wiped it on my face. I didn't get a chance to retaliate—she pushed me onto the couch and started licking and eating the cream off my face, laughing as she kissed me all over.
Then she smacked her lips onto mine.
She demanded entry, and I gave it.We kissed each other until we were out of breath.
This kiss was different—it was passionate, needed, and deep. She kissed my forehead afterward.
I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, and we cuddled to sleep.
The next morning—
I didn't find Everett beside me.
I got up and saw her in the kitchen.
She was wearing my T-shirt, which was far too loose for that tiny figure of hers. I walked up and hugged her from behind, placing a soft kiss on her neck.
"Good morning," I said, my voice coming out raspy.
"Good morning, Edwin," she smiled, turning around and hugging me.