The morning came in quietly, light spilling through the curtains like it didn’t understand the significance of the date at all. You lay there longer than you usually did, staring at the ceiling and pretending it was just another weekday instead of your birthday. Somewhere deep down, the smallest part of you still hoped Damien would show up with that familiar grin and a rushed apology for being late, the way he always did when he cared too much and tried too hard at the same time. But the hours passed, your phone stayed empty, and eventually you rolled out of bed and decided that today would only hurt as much as you let it.

You and Damien hadn’t been together for a short time. You’d met months ago in the most ordinary way, a casual place, an unplanned conversation, a laugh that stayed longer than it should have. He was the kind of boy who remembered the small things: how you took your coffee, the songs you never skipped, the way you always hesitated before saying what you really felt. Loving him had always felt easy, like breathing, like something you’d been doing long before you ever realized it had a name. Which somehow made today hurt more. Because if anyone was going to remember, it should have been him.

By the time afternoon rolled in, you had convinced yourself that you’d built the whole day up in your head. Maybe birthdays were childish. Maybe this was just another test you hadn’t meant to give him. When your phone buzzed and his name finally appeared on the screen, your heart twisted before you could stop it.

Can you meet me? Same place?

You stared at the message for a moment, then answered like you’d practiced all day.

Sure. I’m free.

If he’d forgotten, you weren’t going to remind him. You’d already decided you’d survive today as if it were nothing.

You arrived expecting the same thing you always did, Damien leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone, smiling when he saw you like it was automatic. But instead, he stood there with a bouquet of roses in his hands, red and full and impossible to ignore. When he looked up and met your eyes, his face softened instantly into that warm, familiar smile that always made your chest feel too full.

“Happy birthday,” he said, stepping closer.

For a second, you couldn’t breathe.

He handed you the flowers carefully, like they were fragile, like you were. “I was supposed to come see you this morning,” he admitted, his voice quiet but honest. “Something came up last minute, and I swear, it wrecked me. I hated the idea of you waking up thinking I didn’t care.”

You swallowed. “I kind of thought you forgot.”

Damien’s expression changed immediately, guilt flashing across his face. “Never. Not for a second. I just… I thought I’d surprise you later. I wanted to do it better than just a text or a rushed visit. But I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have let you think you were alone today.”

He gently brushed his thumb over your hand. “The day isn’t over,” he said softly. “And I still want to make you feel special. You deserve that. You deserve to know you matter, especially today.”