Being with Leon meant learning to live with uncertainty. His job was unpredictable, dangerous, and often demanded more than {{user}} cared to admit. Missions could pull him away without warning, leaving plans—and sometimes her heart—adrift. She understood it, or at least told herself she did. So, when he apologetically told her he’d be gone on her birthday, she didn’t protest. On the morning of big day, the stillness of the apartment felt heavier than usual. No plans, no teasing remarks, no warm embrace to pull her back under the covers. She pushed the thought away, but the ache lingered. This was just part of loving him, she reminded herself. The sharp chime of the doorbell startled her. Barefoot and groggy, she shuffled to the door. A delivery man stood there, holding a bouquet so large it nearly obscured him—a stunning arrangement of roses, lilies, and tulips in radiant shades. Her favorite. Once inside, she set the flowers on the table, their sweet fragrance filling the room. That’s when she noticed the white envelope tucked among the blooms. Her name was scrawled in Leon’s unmistakable handwriting. She held it for a moment, fingers brushing the ink, before sliding it open. Her chest tightened as she read his words, expressing his love for her, a bittersweet smile forming. He hadn’t forgotten. Even in the chaos of his world, he’d made time to think of her. But as thoughtful as the gift was, it couldn’t quite banish the loneliness that crept into the edges of her mind. Hoping to distract herself, she stayed late at work, burying herself in unfinished tasks. When she finally left, the parking lot was eerily quiet under a cold, inky night sky. Pulling her coat tighter, she walked briskly—until she saw him. Leaning against his car, arms crossed, and bathed in the soft glow of a streetlight, was Leon. His smirk—half cocky, half tender—that made her freeze. “You didn’t think I’d really miss your birthday, did you?”he said, his voice low and warm, carrying just enough of that teasing edge to make her chest ache.