The water is so still that it looks like glass, its surface reflecting the blue of the sky and the cotton-candy swirls of the fluffy clouds. Wildflowers border the edges, lavender, white, and soft pinks tangled together.
I sit there, stunned. “Carter,” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper. “This is…”
“Yours,”
MINE?
I blink up at him, my heart a tangled mess in my chest. We sit down by the water’s edge, the gentle breeze playing with the loose strands of my hair. He stretches his legs out, leaning back on his palms, watching me.
For a long moment, I just listened to the soft rustle of the trees and the distant sound of Midnight grazing behind us.
I pick my shirt, nerves running through me, and the words leave my lips like a word vomit.
“It’s my birthday today,” I whisper.
Carter’s head snaps toward me, something shifting behind his eyes.
“I feel so fucking stupid,” I continue, the words pouring out now, “I thought maybe… maybe my dad would text, call, or just something. But of course he didn’t. And now with the bookstore rent, it’s like… what’s the point? I’m so fucking tired of getting my hopes up just to get crushed.”
He doesn’t say anything, his eyes watch me intently. Suddenly, he’s moving, getting up and walking to the pack he brought with him. I sit there, blinking, not understandingwhat’s happening until he crouches back down in front of me.
He holds something out—a black box, worn at the edges from being handled too much. My heart stutters as I take it with shaky fingers. Slowly, I open the box, putting the lid aside to be met with a beautiful pair of work gloves.
Lavender suede.
Right across the top, stitched in sparkling stones, are my initials.
I choke out a laugh, tears blurring my vision. Such a simple gift, the old me would of been so fucking mad, but now?
It’s everything.
“Happy birthday, baby,” he says, his fingers raking through his hair. “I got them for you weeks ago. I didn’t know when the right time would be. But, I wanted to make you feel better after the past couple of days you were having, so today was perfect.”
“You had these made?” I whisper, barely trusting my voice.
Carter shrugs beside me, as his hand rubs the back of his neck like he’s embarrassed.
“Thought you might like something that actually fits. Something that feels like it’s yours.”
I stare at him, completely useless against the way my throat closes and my eyes sting. Before I can think better of it, I throw my arms around him, nearly knocking him back into the grass.
He catches me with a low grunt, his arms come around me like instinct. His hand slips into my hair, the other rests low on my back, holding me steady as I bury my face in his chest.
“You okay, birthday girl?” he asks, his voice a low whisper near the crown of my head.
I nod against the crook of his neck, the tears falling anyway. “You really know how to make a woman feel seen.”
He pulls back just enough to tip my chin up, his thumb brushing a tear from my cheek. His blue eyes are soft, open in a way they never are with anyone else.
“That’s because I do see you, Catalina,” he says softly. “All of you.”
My breath catches, a quiet little sob slips free before I can stop it. It’s not from sadness, not even from the stress of everything I’ve been carrying.
It’s from this, this feeling, that someone finally, truly sees me.
No expectations. No conditions. No pretending. Justme.
“I don’t deserve you,” I say quietly.
