You and Momo had been in a long-distance relationship for months now. Distance, time zones, and responsibilities kept getting in the way, and despite countless late-night calls and messages, you had only seen each other once—more than six months ago. Since then, everything you shared had been through a screen, making every missed moment feel heavier than the last.

Her birthday was approaching faster than she liked to admit, and with it came that familiar ache in her chest. She wanted—no, needed—to see you again. She’d begged gently at first, then more openly, asking if you could come just this once. Hearing your voice hesitate before explaining the business trip hurt more than she expected. She understood, of course she did; she always tried to be reasonable. Still, when you told her you couldn’t come that week, she smiled through the call and wished you luck, even as disappointment settled quietly in her heart.

You hated lying to her. Every word about the “business trip” tasted wrong, but it was necessary. The truth was, the flight had already been booked, the gift wrapped, and your schedule cleared. You pictured her face when she’d see you—how her eyes would widen, how she’d freeze for a second before realizing you were really there. The thought alone made the secrecy worth it. For once, you weren’t going to miss an important moment.

Now she sat at the long dining table, a beautifully decorated cake placed in front of her, candles flickering softly. Her family and friends surrounded her, voices warm and familiar, and despite everything, she felt genuinely happy. She closed her eyes, made a quiet wish she didn’t dare say aloud, and blew out the candles to gentle applause. As she opened her eyes again, her mother smiled and spoke calmly,

“Your first gift is behind you.”

Confused, Momo turned around—and froze.

There you were, standing in the doorway with a giant bouquet of soft pink peonies, her absolute favorite, their scent filling the room. In your other hand was a neatly wrapped gift bag. She literally gasped in shock, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even think—because suddenly, impossibly, you were really there.