Happy Birthday
SARAH
He narrowed his eyes at me, confused.
“I have to take a bath and go downstairs to have breakfast with my dad,” I said, my voice distant. “We can’t have him come back here again.”
I grabbed my robe.
“I’ll try to bring you something to eat,” I added, already moving toward the bathroom.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t know if I wanted to.
I closed the bathroom door behind me and leaned against it for a moment, letting out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. My heart was pounding so loudly, I could probably hear it.
What was I doing?
What was I thinking?
I stepped into the shower and let the water run hot, hoping the steam could clear my thoughts. But no matter how long I stood there, scrubbing my skin raw, I couldn't wash away Cullen’s words. Or the feel of his arm around my waist. Or the way I had slept like I hadn’t in years.
Like I was safe.
Like I was loved.
When I got out of the bathroom and stepped back into my bedroom, I froze. He was still there. Of course, he was.
Where did I expect him to go? Pssst.
Cullen lay on the bed exactly as I had left him, only now he was sitting up a little more, resting against the pillows, shirt still off. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.
The tension in the room was thick, like walking through fog. I didn’t know what I was expecting, maybe for him to be gone, maybe for this all to feel like a dream.
But he was real. And he was still here. I turned away quickly and went to the closet. I could feel his eyes following me as I opened the doors.
"I have to go downstairs," I said quietly. "My father’s waiting."
Cullen nodded. He didn’t ask me to stay. Didn’t ask for more, he knew I had to go.
But as I walked to the door, I hesitated. I turned towards him and forced a smile as a peace offering. And with that, I slipped out of the room, gently closing the door behind me.
I descended the stairs quietly, trying to steady my nerves. The house felt unusually warm, unusually...bright. And then I realised it wasn’t just the light streaming in from the windows. It was the mood. Something was different.
I walked into the dining room just as my father was pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee. He looked at me, grinning widely.
"There’s my girl," he said cheerfully. "Thought I’d have to send the maids in to check on you."
I laughed nervously, brushing my damp hair behind my ear. "Guess I slept longer than I thought."
He looked at me, eyes full of something...a kind of soft pride I hadn’t seen in a while. "You look better today. Rest did you good."
I nodded. "Yeah. I guess."
Then he set his cup down and walked towards me.
"Come on," he said with a grin. "You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?"
"Forget what?" I asked, blinking.
He tilted his head, a look of amused disbelief on his face. "Sarah. It’s your birthday."
Oh. I blinked again. Birthday. How could I have forgotten my own birthday?
But then again...after everything with Cullen. After nearly drowning. After the hospital, Ronan, the walls closing in on me...
I forgot.
I forgot it was today. My father reached out and touched my cheek, gentler than he’d ever been. "Happy birthday, darling."
A lump formed in my throat, and for a second I couldn’t speak. He smiled, stepping back.
"Come on. I made a little something for you. Thought we’d start the day easy."
I followed him, still dazed, wondering how I could forget something so simple. And wondering why, now that I remembered, the first face I wanted to see after hearing the words happy birthday... was Cullen’s.
That's when I saw it, gleaming pink, compact, and way too luxurious to be what I thought it was.
“A car?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He beamed. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
“You got me a car?” I whispered.
“It’s cute, right? Sleek. Small. Fast. Just like you.” He chuckled.
“I don’t know how to drive,” I admitted.
“You’ll learn,” he said proudly. “We’ll get you an instructor. Or two. But you’re twenty-three now. You should have your own car. Doesn’t matter if you don’t use it much. It’s yours.”
I walked toward the car like I was in a dream, trailing my fingers across the smooth pink hood. It was beautiful. Girly and soft and perfect. I couldn’t believe he’d done this. I wanted to point out I won't be able to drive it anywhere but stopped myself.
I didn’t want to kill the mood. He looked so happy. So damn proud. I forced the widest smile I could manage and turned to him.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I said, hugging him tightly.
He pulled out my phone like a giddy teenager. “Come on, let me take pictures. You look stunning this morning.”
I posed beside the car, touched the door handle, leaned on the hood, and smiled like I had dreamt about this day forever. But inside, my thoughts were spiralling.
Where was I going to drive this car? Why had he done this now? What was he trying to say?
I had a driver and a bodyguard to take me everywhere and anywhere. I have never had the need to drive myself before. Dad just wouldn't let me...I kept the questions to myself. I let him snap the pictures. I acted thrilled. I kissed his cheek.
“It’s really beautiful, Dad,” I whispered. “I really like it.”
And he lit up all over again. I could see how happy he was, just to see me happy. And that was enough for today.
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