Page 42 of Yours, Forever

We entered her street and approached the house. "That was thoughtful, thank you."

"How did you two meet?" Eva asked.

"Our dads did business together. We've known each other since I moved in with my father when I was twelve."

I bit the inside of my lip and hoped she wouldn't ask more.

Eva glanced at me. "I see. Twenty or so years ago, right?"

"Right. I'm turning thirty-three today, which—"

"What?!" Eva stopped at the path leading to her door, and gave me a shocked look.

I pressed my lips not to laugh. "It's my birthday today, yes."

"I wanted to surprise my best friend for a reason," Javier added.

"And no one thought to tell me?!"

Javier chuckled; without anything much to say, he clicked his car open and went to retrieve things from the trunk.

Eva and I stayed on the sidewalk, me with my smirk, her with her surprise.

"Not one of your friends wished you a happy birthday that I could hear—" she tried to explain.

I stopped her with my hands on her shoulders. "They all texted me this morning."

"Now I feel like an asshole—"

I stopped her again. I put my hands on her face, and stepped closer to her.

I sought her eyes so she knew I was being serious. "All you need to do is say the two words, and I'll be happy."

She didn't ask me to take away my hands, but argued anyway. "I could have bought you a symbolic drink at the pub? Or gotten a fucking cupcake from the café with a candle or something.Something."

"It's sweet that you want to do that, but I don't need it."

The trunk of Javier's vehicle closed with a resounding slam. I kept my eyes on Eva.

She bit her lip. "I wish I had known, is all."

"Darling, just say the two words."

"But it won't be special now…"

"Two. Words. Come on. I know you can do what I ask without much of a fight, at least this once. For my birthday. Let it be my gift."

"Oh, please." She tried to push me but I kept my hands on her face. She relented and gave me her eyes again, black in the light of streetlamps.

Two words, I mouthed at her.

I savored the battle she fought with herself. If she gifted me those two words, it meant more than simple well wishes. It meant that, for once, she chose to do something for no other reason than because it would make me happy. Because she cared enough to want to do it.

I really wanted her to care.

To the point that I knew my best friend hovered nearby, probably watching us with some degree of cynicism, and it didn't matter. Even if Javier and Eva might think that I was being my usual over-the-top self, it didn't matter. Whether I knew what on Earth to do about wanting her to care, it didn't matter. If she gave me this…

"Happy birthday, Max."