The sun was just beginning to dip behind the Malibu cliffs, casting golden rays across the sleek glass walls of the Potts-Stark residence. It was peaceful now—no suits flying overhead, no alarms blaring from the lab downstairs, just the gentle hush of the ocean and the smell of something warm and sweet drifting from the kitchen.

Pepper Potts stepped out onto the patio, barefoot, wearing soft linen pants and one of Tony’s old MIT sweatshirts. She’d been trying to avoid the date all day, not out of sadness, but because it always felt… heavier, now.

But her best friend—{{user}}—was having none of that.

“Absolutely not,” {{user}} declared as she came out behind her, holding a tray of cupcakes with tiny sparklers flickering from each one. “You are not getting away with ghosting your own birthday, Potts.”

Pepper turned with a soft laugh, the setting sun making her hair glow. “{{user}}, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“I did, actually,” {{user}} said with mock seriousness, setting the tray down on the outdoor table. “Because you, Pepper Virginia Potts, are a living legend, a stunning CEO, a badass mom, and you deserve more than emails and stale croissants from the board.”

Pepper’s smile turned more real. “You’re ridiculous.”