Page 80 of Love You Truly

Mallory

Birthdays were never a big deal in my house growing up. Shocker.

My parents were out of town half the time for my birthday and almost all the time for theirs. “It’s just another day,” my mother always said. Yet she usually celebrated her birthday in some far-flung locale, even if she was doing something as ordinary as shearing sheep. In Ireland.

Complicated pair, my parents.

It was left to me and my friends to make a big deal about my birthday if I wanted a big deal to be made. Did I mention that I didn’t have all that many friends?

So it surprises me—no, it shocks me—when I wake up on my birthday to find half the sunflowers in California in my room.

They’re in tall vases along one wall beneath the open window, which lets in a whiff of lavender from the planters outside.

They’re in round bowls on my bedside tables, where a steaming cup of coffee with almond milk beckons me to grab it before brushing my teeth.

And they’re wrapped in a fat red bow, held in front of Dash’s otherwise-naked body as he plays a version of a birthday song by the Beatles on his phone.

There is no better way to wake up on a birthday. No better way to wake up ever.

My heart surges with so much love for Dash that I almost tell him, and it takes all my self-restraint not to blurt out everything I feel. But I don’t because that’s not part of our deal. If I have a year with him, I want it to be as good as possible, and I can’t ruin it by creating awkward tension with feelings I promised not to have.

“You are amazing,” I tell him instead. He rewards me with dimples and a broad smile, which somehow brings even more light to the room than the sun managed to do. And it’s the freakin’ sun.

“Happy birthday, honey.”

I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him, and it scares the life out of me, but that’s a problem for another day. Right now, I’m grateful for the man who approaches the bed and hands me the giant bunch of flowers, leaving me with the perfect view of the rest of him. Happy birthday indeed.

“C’mere.” I reach for his hand and pull him toward me on the bed. He rolls on top of me, holding himself up on his elbows. It’s the perfect distance to gaze at his beautiful face. “Thank you. This is the perfect birthday.”

He laughs. “It’s only been five minutes. I have lots of other things planned. Don’t count me out yet.”

“Dash, I would never count you out.”

He dips his head to kiss me, and even though I’m self-conscious about having morning breath, I let him. He makes me feel better about myself, even in the morning when I haven’t brushed my teeth. That has to be some kind of superpower, and I love him for it.

There it is again, that feeling I’m not supposed to have. Well, I can’t help feeling what I feel any more than I can stop the sun from rising in the east. And there it is, right outside my window.

As Dash kisses his way down my body, I decide I’ll just sit with the blooming fullness in my chest and enjoy it. The feeling is just for me, just for today. Tomorrow, I’ll talk sense back into my brain and get a grip. But today is my birthday, and for the first time in my life, I’m celebrating by being in love. Even if the guy doesn’t know.

The moving truck pulls away after depositing sixteen boxes in my entryway. I stand on the driveway watching the ribbon of dust rise into the air as the truck’s tires grind against the gravel and seal my fate.

Dash lives here. With me. We’re married.

And I’m in love with my fake husband.

Of course, the movers bear no responsibility for any of that, but I can’t help feeling like they’re leaving me to my fate as I stand here alone.

Dash is still at work, but we’ve given each other keys to our respective homes. We’re going to spend time in both of them, so I’ll be moving some things to his house as well. But no pressure. This is for the sake of thoroughness. Wouldn’t want to give Felix any reason to come sniffing, claiming this whole thing’s a farce, Dash said the day after our wedding.

It still stings a little to remember it, but I need to keep those words present in my mind so I remember where I stand with him. All the silly feelings I had before the wedding were one-sided. I was getting swept away in the lie. I’d do well to remember that and set my mind straight now.

Or at least tomorrow. Today is my birthday, and I plan to enjoy the day and maybe plot a little world domination when Dash gets home.

Almost on cue, another rumble of a truck comes from Dash’s blue pickup, which is festooned with easily a dozen mylar Happy Birthday balloons rising into the air. He pulls right up to where I’m standing and flings open the door to his truck, revealing a round, white-frosted cake sitting on his lap.

“Oh wow, you drove with that on your lap?” I lean over the cake to kiss him.

“Yup, and didn’t get any on my shirt.” He looks down at his shirt to be sure.

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