Saturday morning.
I know what you're thinking—yesterday was Saturday, so how can it still be Saturday morning?
Well… it's not. It's Saturday the 23rd of April, the very last week of the month.
And the last week of exams.
It went by faster than I expected, smoother than I had any right to hope for. Actually, no—better than smooth. It was great. Val made sure of it.
Somehow in between her endless teasing, her distracting kisses, her ridiculous antics and the chaos she dragged me into on a daily basis, she still found time to make sure I was prepped for every single paper. Notes highlighted, concepts drilled into my skull, practice problems shoved into my face when I was ready to zone out. She had me ready every time. And the results? Way better than if I'd done it on my own.
That was Val—chaotic and steady at the same time. A storm that somehow carried you safely to shore.
But now exams were behind us. And today was different.
Today was her birthday.
She was turning nineteen. And just like she said she wanted, it was only the two of us. No parties. No fake smiles. Just… us.
She woke up first. Again.
I felt her weight before I opened my eyes, the familiar warmth of her thighs pressing against my sides as she straddled me. Then came the soft flutter of kisses across my cheeks—one, two, three—until I groaned awake.
"Morning, husband," she whispered, lips brushing my ear.
I cracked one eye open, couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my mouth. "Morning, birthday girl."
Her entire face lit up like the words themselves were a gift. She beamed down at me, cheeks pink, eyes bright, a grin so wide it left no space for anything else.
"Marina was the first person to wish me happy birthday," she announced proudly.
I raised a brow at that, feigning offense. "Marin—? I literally wished you at midnight. On the dot. Don't tell me you already forgot."
She tilted her head, lips twitching. "That doesn't count. You're supposed to wish me first. If you hadn't, you wouldn't even be alive right now." She said it so casually, like it was just a fact of life.
I tried not to laugh, but the way she deadpanned it… yeah, I couldn't.
Before I could argue, she flopped down beside me and pulled her phone out, scrolling quickly. "See? Marina. Then Lucien. Then Trent."
I glanced at the screen. Marina's name sat right at the top, timestamped 12:01. Lucien and Trent followed close behind. After that, the flood started—the kind of "happy birthday" texts that always piled up when your last name carried weight.
Her mother's message sat near the top. Just a simple "Happy birthday, darling" with a heart. Val didn't mention it, and I didn't either.
Then there was Bradley Sinclair. Happy Birthday, Beautiful ❤️, his text read—sitting above the glaring notification that she had 87 unread messages from him alone. She didn't even bother opening it, just scrolled past like it was spam.
I didn't comment. She'd only roll her eyes and insult him the way she always did.
But there were dozens more. From classmates. From people she barely talked to. Even from numbers I didn't recognize. Boys, girls, people twice our age. All of them crowding her notifications.
I smirked. "Something tells me you're not opening half of those."
She gasped dramatically, eyes widening as though I'd just uncovered her darkest secret. "How did you know?"
"Lucky guess."
She gave me a sly look, then rolled back onto her back. "They're not real. They only sent it to get on my good side. Actually, no. My family's good side. Sucking up, basically."
"Oh."
"Mm-hm. And I don't feel like playing along." She locked her phone, tossed it onto the nightstand, and rolled onto her stomach so she could stare at me again. "Let's not talk about them. Let's talk about something important."
"Like what?"
She propped her chin in her hands, eyes glittering. "My birthday. Where are you taking me?"
I froze.
Her brows drew together. "Kai. It's my birthday. Like my birthday."
I stared back, blank on purpose, dragging out the silence just to watch her squirm. She frowned, lips parting in that way that meant she was about two seconds away from biting me.
Then I chuckled, letting the tension go. "Relax. I've got something planned."
Her expression shifted instantly—frown vanishing, suspicion mixing with a pleased little smile. "Oh. Good. You're lucky, then."
I narrowed my eyes. "Lucky? What's that supposed to mean?"
She was already rolling off the bed, stretching her arms above her head as she padded toward the bathroom. "Nothing."
"Val."
"Mm?" She didn't look back.
"What do you mean, 'lucky'?"
"I'll get ready," she said quickly, dodging the question as smoothly as she'd dodged half my complaints all semester.
I propped myself on one elbow, shaking my head as I watched her disappear into the bathroom.
Of course she wouldn't answer. Of course she'd leave me hanging, smiling to herself like she'd just gotten away with something.
That was Val. Always three steps ahead in her own game, leaving me to catch up.
And as the sound of running water filled the air, I lay back against the pillows, still grinning.
Her day had only just started.
And I couldn't wait to see how far she'd make me chase her before it ended.
---
I'd never cooked a full meal for anyone before. Not properly. Not the kind with sides and a main dish and dessert waiting in the wings. But it was her birthday, and even if I didn't have much, I wanted her to feel like the day was hers. Like she was celebrated.
So I cooked.
It wasn't flawless—half the kitchen looked like it had been through a minor war—but by the time she came out, hair damp from the shower, wearing one of my shirts over shorts, the table was set. Candles lit. Two plates waiting. And a cake box tucked at the corner like a hidden ace.
Her eyes widened instantly. "You… cooked?"
"Don't sound so surprised."
"I'm just saying." She dropped onto the chair, staring at the plate like it might sprout legs and run. "For my husband to go from noodles-and-eggs king to MasterChef in a night? That's impressive."
I tried to play it cool, even though my palms were sweaty. "Don't get your hopes up. Might taste like noodles and eggs with extra steps."
She grinned, already digging in. "If it kills me, at least I die happy."
We ate. She teased me with every bite, humming like it was five-star quality just to watch me squirm. Halfway through, she leaned back in her chair, hand sliding over her stomach with a dramatic sigh.
"That was good. But…" She tapped her chin. "Isn't the cake supposed to come last?"
I smirked. "Don't worry. I've got something else saved for last."
Her brows lifted immediately. "Ooh. My husband's being mysterious. So hot."
I rolled my eyes, but my ears warmed anyway.
---
The day slipped by in that lazy, perfect way only Saturdays could. She stole my laptop and declared herself queen of the game, challenging me like her pride depended on it.
She wasn't bad. Quick reflexes, faster trash talk. But she wasn't that good either. I let her win, smiling quietly at the way she bounced in her seat, hands raised like a champion.
"Bow before your queen!" she announced.
"You realize if I actually tried—"
> "You did try. Don't even lie."
I smirked. "You sure?"
She nodded, smug.
So I tried. Just once. Went full focus. Within minutes, her victory crumbled, and she stared at the screen, lower lip trembling like she might cry.
I laughed and eased off, switching back to sloppy plays until she scraped out a win. Her mood flipped instantly. She shoved my shoulder and gloated for the next ten minutes, strutting around the room like she'd just won the World Cup.
It was ridiculous. It was perfect.
By evening, I had her hand in mine as we drove to a quiet hill. A place I hadn't stepped foot on in years.
She looked around, wide-eyed, as the city stretched out below us, the sky deepening into indigo. I'd set up a blanket, some cheap string lights, nothing extravagant. But when she saw it, her smile lit brighter than anything I'd plugged in.
"You really did all this?" she asked softly.
"Yeah." I lowered myself beside her, staring out at the fading horizon before I spoke again. "My dad used to bring me and Naomi here. Back when we were kids." I hesitated, the words catching for just a second. "They... died in a car accident. Both of them. I was twelve. Naomi was sixteen."
Val's gaze stayed steady on me. Not wide with surprise, not flinching like I'd dropped something heavy. Just calm, almost gentle, like she was waiting for me to keep going.
I tilted my head, the words catching in my throat. "You… already knew, didn't you?"
Her lips twitched, betraying the smallest smirk.
I blinked. "How?"
Her eyes didn't waver. Her voice was soft.
"I found out when I was stalking you."
I choked on air. "Stalkin—, wow."
She leaned back, smug. "It's romantic if you think about it."
"More like crazy."
Her eyes narrowed. "You don't get to call the birthday girl crazy on her day."
I snorted. "Fair."
"And besides," she added, tapping the ring on her finger, "you gave me this. So technically, you're crazier than I am."
I laughed under my breath. "Touché."
We sat together, the stars unfolding overhead. My chest ached, heavy with the memory. My parents had been gone since I was twelve. Naomi sixteen. The hill used to be ours, but tonight it was hers too. And that mattered.
I glanced at her, glowing in the cheap lights, the breeze tugging her hair. She was smiling. Always smiling when it was me.
"Can't give you a yacht yet," I murmured. "But I can give you the stars."
Her lips parted, breath catching. For a moment, she just stared at me like the words had physically reached inside her chest. Then she leaned against my shoulder, whispering, "I'll take them."
---
After dinner—sandwiches, cake, laughter that echoed into the night—I pulled out the little box I'd hidden in my bag.
She raised her brows. "Another present?"
"Yeah. Open it."
Inside was nothing fancy. Just a folded piece of paper. Her eyes flicked to mine, amused. Then she unfolded it.
"I.O.U: One Submarine. Color: Matte Black. Payment: Future Riches."
She burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "You're insane. I love it."
"You better. Took me a whole five minutes to write that."
She held the note to her chest, eyes shining. "I'm looking forward to my sub."
I smirked. "Don't get too comfortable. Might take a while to afford one."
She giggled until her head tilted back, pure joy spilling out, the sound carrying into the night. And I just watched. Because whenever she laughed like that, it was like she had the whole world in her hands. Always happy, even with the little I could give. Always smiling, as long as it was me.
That smile was everything.
But now, when I look back, I can't help wondering… where did it all go wrong?
---
To be continued...