"Happy birthday," he said again.
He placed it on the worktable.
The cake inside was tiny.
Four inches, maybe.
Enough for two.
The icing was smooth and white, with a single purple flower piped dead center.
No glitter, no sprinkles.
Just that flower, neat, precise, a shade darker than amethyst.
Primrose, my birth flower.
I stared at it for a few seconds.
"Thanks," I said quietly, before my voice could crack.
He lit a candle on top, just one, and grinned at me.
"Make a wish."
The flame flickered.
I closed my eyes.
Nothing came to mind right away.
My brain spun in ten directions before settling.
I opened my eyes and blew out the candle.
The smoke curled upward, sharp and faint.
"Happy birthday," Ashton said.
I repeated it. "Happy bi
