Sophia was the first person Orla spotted as soon as she arrived with David and Rosa. Terror seized her chest as she scoured the place for just one person.
Callan.
Sophia hadn't caught sight of them yet, her phone was pressed to her ear, her left side resting on her BMW X7. A pair of dark sunglasses shielded her face, but Orla didn't even have to see her sisters' faces before she knew who was who.
"We are here," David declared, relieved.
He put the car to a halt, turning around to look at Orla.
"Where is this and why is Sophia here?" She directed her questions to no one in particular.
Rosa got down from the car, followed by Orla before David joined them.
The place was strange to her. A skyscraper at a tropical resort, one she had never been to.
She looked around, surveying the tranquillity of the environment. It wasn't a perilous place as she had envisioned. So she relaxed her nerves, hoping to see her husband in a safe place.
"Where is Callan?" She asked, now turning to David.
"Please, come with me." David led the way to the spot where Sophia was standing next to her car, with her phone still pressed to her ear.
A bright smile permeated her eyes, taking more room than her eyes took, but she was thrown into a dismal mood immediately after she laid eyes on Orla.
Orla didn't have to haggle. She knew quite well that her presence brought about the mood switch.
The way Sophia stared softly at her from the corner of her eyes. The upshots of the evening breeze that struck her skin caused her to fidget.
She gazed into her sister's eyes for a long moment, longer than Orla had intended when she first saw Sophia.
She flinched when Sophia moved an inch towards her, scared she'd hurt her, but what she did next threw her off balance.
She stepped even nigher, closing the distance between them.
"Orla," she guided her into her arms, clasping her arms around her back, she held her in a bear hug. "Orla, you look well."
Orla wanted to yank Sophia's arms off her body, but she remained in her arms, drawing in her fresh scent of lavender fused with oud, expensive just as she had remembered it to be.
Sophia let go and smiled at her. "Orla."
Still addled, Orla's eyebrows corrugated in question. "What's going on here?"
"I know you are not happy to see me." Sophia pressed her lips together and shrugged her shoulders. It was expected.
"I have no words to say." Lies. She had a lot to say, to ask Sophia. But then, first things first. "I was supposed to meet Callan here. Where is he?"
"Callan." Sophia smiled again. "He's here, you will meet him soon."
She gestured towards the entrance. Orla didn't wait for her other words to land before she rushed into the building, leaving Rosa and David behind even though she came with them.
"Callan!" Her tiny voice resonated through the glass doors, calling out to her husband. She called but there was no response the first three times.
She glimpsed the receptionist and ran towards her desk.
"Hello, ma'am." The brunette with short curly hair shot a friendly-professional smile at Orla. "Welcome to the CLASS RESORT. How may I help you?" She asked politely.
"Yeah." Orla wriggled her head. "I am here to see my husband," her eyes travelled around the big reception in seconds, but there were no traces of Callan. Just empty couches waiting to be occupied by guests.
She couldn't go past there due to the constraint that had been created with the doors.
"Hmm," the brunette scrolled through the tablet in her hand, smiling at it. Orla wondered what was making her smile so much, but she couldn't deny that her smile was good for her face. It was bright and gave hope to the hopeless like her. "The only reservation we've had today is for Mrs Orla Barlowe. So, who's your husband?"
"Callan Barlowe!" Orla responded sharply.
"Oh, welcome to you. Your husband already rented the garden for the whole of today."
Orla stared at her, still confused.
"Any special occasion?" She was somehow relieved that Callan wasn't in trouble like they claimed that he was, but then she needed to see him to be sure they were not playing a fast one on her.
"Hmm." The brunette ducked her head again to scroll through. "To celebrate his beautiful wife." She dropped her hands on the table and smiled again. "You are one lucky woman, Mrs. Barlowe. Not every man will do this for their wife."
That was when it struck Orla that it was her twenty-third birthday. She checked through the date to confirm and it was real. Sighing, she wiggled her head, lost for words.
She hadn't expected Callan to know. She never told him about it.
"Your husband is waiting for you out there. One of our workers will be here to take you to the garden. Please have a nice day and happy birthday to you."
Orla smiled a small smile. When the employee appeared, she followed his lead into the garden.
As she went on, bumping hips with the employee, it became clearer, the reason Sophia was outside. It was because she probably teamed up with Callan to plan this out. She wondered if David and Rosa knew about it and just decided to play a prank on her.
She made a mental note never to forgive them if they were part of the prank. They scared the hell out of her.
She got into the garden, and there, Callan was standing with his back turned to her. His black suit coated his hunky build. His standing posture. His rich minty scent assailed her nose. The one that always notified her that Callan was near.
Her heart melted the moment she saw him. This man had made her feel loved, more than she had ever dreamt of.
He gently turned around, snatching his phone away from his ear.
He sighted her and for a brief moment, they gazed softly into each other's eyes. She was swept off her feet and could fall if Callan didn't catch her.
He took some steps closer, she imitated him until they were standing a few inches from each other.
"Callan," she sighed, staring at him. "Are you alright?" She asked when he didn't say anything.
"I should ask you that." He closed the distance between them, pulling her to his chest.
Her fruity scent knocked him off, he had missed her so much. He let her stay in his arms for a long time, savouring every second that passed by with her in his broad arms that shielded her like home.
"Happy Birthday to you, My wife."