"Mom!"
"My girl is right here."Mrs. Lilly—my mother—was busy organizing my birthday celebration. She was a very attractive and accomplished woman. Though our thoughts were completely different, we looked remarkably similar. She despised Ronald's family—the Parkers—with a passion.
My mother ran her own business. She had built a company from the ground up, infusing it with her love of flowers. Her passion had rubbed off on me. As a child, I was always curious about plants and perfumes. Now, as I grew older, I was considering stepping into the perfume industry. But my father insisted I finish my studies first.
"I told you I wanted a straightforward party, but this isn't it, Mom," I said, glancing around at the overwhelming décor and sea of unfamiliar guests. "I only wanted my friends."
"What is this? It's not a huge thing, my daughter. It's healthier for you to develop a habit of doing it."Oh, there she was—lecturing me about society and class all over again.
"Lilly, you're talking to walls. Blah blah," came my father's voice, cutting through her speech. She turned toward him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.
"Please refrain. And also—where is my gift, Dad?"He approached and kissed the top of my head. He always smelled like love—sweet, warm, and comforting.
"Happy birthday, Rosee Posee. My little Rosee! It's for you."
"Oh my gosh, Father... I don't— Thank you, but I can't."He handed me a car key—my own car. Seriously. My feet started bouncing in disbelief.
"You can't, Carter. She must acquire—" Mom started to protest.
"Mom, I'm a good driver. Dad already taught me."Dad had secretly given me driving lessons behind her back. She looked stunned.
"Carter, you're giving her so much," she said quietly.But my father snatched the keys back from her and returned them to me with a proud smile.
I ran toward my new car without listening to the rest of their exchange. It was a gorgeous BMW.
"Dad!" I shouted, catching their attention from the side.
"I love you."Mom tried to pretend she was smiling, but I could tell. I knew how much she loved me, even when her pride tried to hide it.
When night fell, my celebration had already begun. Food, dancing, music, and drinks—everything was perfect. My friends and coworkers had shown up. But Jessie and Ronald hadn't. I kept glancing at the entrance, waiting.
There were so many gifts and good wishes, but Annie—my closest friend—gave me the finest one. She had been with me since my first day of college. She reminded me of home, of family.
After saying farewell to the remaining guests, I took two plates of cake and sent a message to Jessie.
Me: Cake.(Attached a photo)
Jessie: Hell yes! You are my savior, God.Me: Going to open your window here.
It was our secret routine. Sometimes at night, I would sneak into my room while she snuck in through the window. We studied together, laughed, cried. Dad knew about it. He never stopped us—neither did Mom. But ever since Ronald had returned, things had changed.
He had slept in my arms some nights. He had kissed me. We talked. But he never went any further. I wanted him—but right now, there was nothing between us.
Even though it was still early winter, the chilly breeze made me shiver. As I climbed, I stumbled and almost dropped the plates. Jessie opened the glass just as I knocked.
But first, she snatched the plates from my hands.
"Hey, that's not right," I said.
But she had already vanished."Assist yourself," she whispered.
Her house was dark—everyone asleep. Was Ronald asleep, too?
"You weren't at my party."She paused while eating.
"You know I despise Mrs. Laura. She tries to run our lives. And she gets along well with Ronald—who's blind and quite dim."Her face was filled with hatred. Nothing felt right.
"It's okay," I said softly. But truthfully—I missed both of them.
I tried calling Ronald while Jessie ate. I sat on the bed, phone in hand. But he never answered. I was still waiting for him to grant me my birthday wish.
He was my first love—whether I loved him or hated him. But today, he was gone. I knew he must've gone out with his buddies. Maybe to drink. Or to meet someone else.
I hung up the phone and sat in silence. But I continued to wait. Every second dragged. Still, he didn't come.
I kept staring at the door. But nothing.
Eventually, I left Jessie and went back to my room to eat. As I was making my way back toward the house, someone suddenly grabbed my elbow.
When I turned, I saw him.Ronald.
He was bleeding. His eyes—red and squinting—looked like they had cried blood. His face was bruised and battered.
"Ron… what happened? You're… bleeding."When I touched his cheek, he hissed in pain. He was so badly injured.
"I just got in a fight. It's nothing," he muttered, pulling away from my hand.
You've been hurt.
"You're making me feel worse."In comparison to the grief you caused me, it is nothing.
The hurt I felt when I saw you kissing someone else.When I saw you have sex right in front of me.When I called you and you lied to me.
"Rose. Happy birthday."He handed me something. He never called me "Rose." It stung.
"I'm grateful," I murmured.
"I looked out the window and saw you. You looked happy without me."Never. I was never happy without him.
"Yes. It's my birthday. And you know how my mother feels—"
Before I could finish, he pressed his forehead against mine and held my face in his hands.
"The fact that you ignore me… and leave me alone… it hurts. Don't let a gap develop between us. Don't murder me with your hatred."
Why did it hurt so much?His pain felt heavier than mine.
He never realized how hard it was for me to move past that night.And then, just like that, Ronald collapsed.
It was completely unexpected.
"How dare you use your filthy hands on my daughter?"