Tabitha's POV
I whipped my head towards the door and called out, "What's up?"
Wilmot's always been the picture of propriety. Why would he barge in on my rest time?
"Uh... Ms. Hartley, did you already hit the hay? Sorry to bug you."
I figured I hadn't dozed off yet, so I got up, threw on a jacket, and shuffled to the door in my slippers.
I yanked the door open and started, "I..."
But my words died in my throat when I saw what was in front of me.
There was Wilmot, holding a cake with candles sticking out.
The candlelight bathed his honest face, the flame twinkling in his eyes.
"Ms. Hartley, it's a bit late, I know, but birthdays? They're pretty darn important. Can't let 'em slip by."
It was exactly eleven fifty-nine.
The cake looked like it was made by him.
There was still flour and cream smeared on his face and clothes, not quite cleaned up yet.
"Thanks," I said, feeling a warmth in my chest that was pure gratitude.
"It's almost midnight. Ms. Hartley, make a wish and blow out those candles."
I didn't hold back any longer, closed my eyes and made a silent wish.
All I've ever wished for is to be reunited with my kids sooner.
After making my wish, I gently blew out the candles. It was exactly midnight, and the room plunged into darkness.
In the dark, I swear I imagined Wilmot's voices sounded sexier.
"Hold on, I'll turn the lights on. Don't trip or anything."
The lights came on, and there on the living room table was a paper cupcake with colorful candles.
"Ms. Hartley, in our hometown, a cupcake's a big deal on birthdays. We put candles on it, as many as the birthday person's age, light 'em up, make a wish. It's all about good wishes."
Wilmot explained.
I didn't expect him to pull all this together while I was snoozing.
"Actually... you didn't have to go through all this hassle."
"I'm just grateful you gave me this job. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to take care of my mom. A cupcake and some decorations. It's no biggie. It's my first time decorating a cake, so it's not perfect. Don't mind the mess, please."
I couldn't very well turn down his good intentions, so I said, "Sure thing."
We sat at the dining table, and I stared at the cupcake in front of me.
But the first thing that came to my mind was Derek.
He used to surprise me on my birthday, too. We were newlyweds, and Derek would sometimes be away on business.
I thought he'd miss my birthday, but at eleven-fifty, he walked in with a gift-wrapped to perfection and a pretty birthday balloon.
He said the presents and balloons would bring me joy and luck, hoping I'd have a smooth and happy life.
I teased him, calling him a romantic old-school gentleman, while I happily took the gifts.
When Derek loved, he loved with his whole heart. When he spoiled, he did it without holding back.
So, even though he messed up later, I couldn't help but think of him now.
"Hey, don't like it?" Wilmot asked, noticing my daze.
I smiled and quickly said, "No, I love it. You've worked hard. I'll bump your bonus this month."
Wilmot scratched his head, a little embarrassed, "That's really something. Thanks in advance."
"It's me who should be thanking you," I said, continuing to admire the cupcake.
Wilmot asked softly, "Are you gonna eat this cake? I might not have done a great job. Can I have it? Otherwise, it's just waste."
I looked at the cupcake, simply frosted with colored icing that said, "Happy Birthday Tabitha, wishing you good health."
The writing was a bit crooked, clearly done by himself. He probably wasn't great at decorations.
I smiled and said, "Sure, but cut me a slice. I can't have you working for nothing."
"Deal."
Midnight, and Wilmot and I were munching on cupcakes.
It was just simple food, but it lifted my spirits.
After a stroll in the yard, soaking in the quiet night, I went back to my room content and said, "Thanks for today."
Just as I was shutting the door, Wilmot's hand suddenly held the door frame, and he said, "Wait..."