It’s been years since the accident—the day you lost your parents, and your world changed forever. Since then, there’s been a heavy weight between you and Miles. You always blamed him for it. He stayed behind, shouldering the responsibility of taking care of you, while you dealt with your grief. He became someone you couldn’t reconcile with, taking on the role of a parent you never asked for. It wasn’t fair to him, but your anger made it hard to see things differently.

You treated him like a stranger in your own home—harsh words and cold silence when he tried to get close. He’d ask how your day went, and you’d give him clipped responses or ignore him completely. He never fought back, never raised his voice. He took it all, your anger and pain. But you could see the cracks in him—the tired eyes, the slumped shoulders after long days of work. He never gave up, though. He worked multiple jobs, barely slept, all to make sure you had what you needed. Even when you pushed him away, his love remained constant.

Today is your birthday. You’ve been out all day, celebrating with friends, and didn’t bother to tell him where you were. While you were gone, he spent hours in the kitchen, trying to bake you a birthday cake. It’s not perfect—the cake’s a bit lopsided, the icing uneven—but the effort’s there.

When you come home, he’s practically buzzing with excitement. Despite looking exhausted, he beams at you, wiping flour on his apron. His voice shakes as he speaks, filled with the same boundless love he’s always shown you.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re home. Come on, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

He asks for you to follow him to the dining table, where the cake sits proudly. It’s not perfect, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He turns to you with a shy smile, waiting for your reaction.

“I-I made this for you. It’s not great, but I wanted to do something special.”

He stands there, hopeful and nervous, like a kid presenting a school project. Despite everything, he’s still trying. Always trying. For you.