Page 119 of Keep Him Like Secrets

But before she could finish, the doors slid open, and everyone she knew and loved erupted in a cheer.

“Surprise!”

Old habits died hard.

And Saff’s hand went for the knife on her keychain before she realized it was her friends and family gathered around our apartment, there to celebrate the fact that she’d been born.

Saff’s eyes flooded as she turned to me.

“Happy birthday, darlin’,” I said, pulling her face against my chest because I knew she didn’t want everyone else to see the tears.

“I thought you forgot,” she said, voice muffled against my suit jacket.

“I know,” I said, my hand rubbing up and down her back. “Which made the surprise better. But I could never forget. I’m really happy you were born, Saff. That’s definitely worth celebrating.”

“I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you too.”

She gave me one hard hug before pulling away and walking into the apartment to greet her loved ones.

She was plied with some booze, tons of food, and then inundated with gifts that leaned heavily toward one of two directions: weapons, or office supply items. Because both things still perfectly suited her.

Once everyone had fully celebrated her, they started to head out and I snuck upstairs to the library to take her present out of its new home and gently place it back in the box that had arrived at the post office earlier that afternoon.

It had been picked up by T, who stuck it in the library for me, to help me keep the secret.

“I know, bud,” I said as he cooed at me, annoyed to go back in his shipping box. “Just two more minutes, I promise.”

With that, I closed the cardboard box and carried it out of the library.

“Close your eyes for me, darlin’,” I demanded.

“Hold on. Let me get to the couch,” she called, her voice a little high and airy, her excitement evident. “Okay. I’m ready.”

I carefully made my way down the stairs then set the box on the coffee table in front of her.

“Okay. Open.”

She looked up at me before she noticed the box on the table.

“No!” she said, eyes round, lips parted. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did.”

Of course, I did.

How could I not?

I constantly found her scrolling for rescue pigeons on her phone. She fell in love with each of them, telling me their stories, talking about how cute they were.

For the first few months, I’d tried to find her her very own New York City sick or needy pigeon.

Eventually, though, I had to go with the rescue she followed online.

And so, now we were a family of three.

Saff seemed about to burst out of her skin as she lunged at the box, then carefully pushed the lid down to loosen it.

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