Happy Birthday.
ANGEL
Three Years Ago
She wouldn’t call.
I wouldn’t call me either.
Mian had this corny tradition of telling me happy birthday at exactly midnight. Birthdays were her favorite, she’d explained with a shrug when I asked the second year she’d done it. It was strange because I was sure she hated me. Since my father was never around, and my mother refused to come to the city, I figured she did it out of pity. I tried not to be angry that she pitied me at all.
It was hard to be upset when she was being so fucking sweet.
But this year, she wouldn’t say it.
Those three words sweetly whispered from her lips had become the one thing about my birthday I looked forward to. I stared at the time on my phone and watched the minute hand change to midnight.
I dropped my phone face down on my chest and waited.
Four months ago, my father made the decision that I couldn’t be trusted with Mian. Taking her from me was the smartest decision he ever made, but that didn’t stop me from resenting myself. Two weeks prior, I convinced my father I needed time away, but the truth was, I needed distance from Mian. It had become impossible to resist her. Had I known the day I came back would have been our last, I never would have left.
My father made Theo believe she could take care of herself. He had been reluctant to uproot her from another home and decided to leave the decision to Mian. He figured Mian still hated me and that would make the decision easier on him. My father, however, knew my feelings weren’t one-sided.
That’s where I came in.
She could have returned home where she could feel closer to her mother, but she was more than just a girl with a crush… and she had no business being in love with me. So I was supposed to ride in like a black-hearted knight and break her heart so she would want to leave.
Unfortunately, it worked like a charm.
Theo was kept in the dark, Mian went home, and my father was happy that his heir was free to toe the line once again.
He had warned me to stay away, but I didn’t listen.
Because I was a man falling for a goddamn teenager.
I didn’t understand it at first. We barely spoke, and when we did, it was to spew insults, yet somehow, I looked forward to each encounter. I even started a few just so I could see the fire that raged in her eyes whenever I got under her skin.
My heart sped up when my phone finally rang. I couldn’t pick up the phone fast enough.
MOM.
My jaw clenched as I hit ignore. The minute changed to one minute past twelve, and I found myself dialing a number I knew from memory. The seconds it took for her to pick up the phone seemed like an eternity.
“Angel?” Her whisper was full of surprise.
“You didn’t call.” I was even angrier that she actually picked up. Mian wasn’t a night owl. She was usually dead to the world by nine and up before the sun rose each morning.
She remembered.
“Should I have?” There was ice in her tone, and my jaw was bound to break at this rate.
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“You know.” She sucked in air and then there was nothing. “Do it, Sprite. I want to hear the words.”
I counted to three in my head and made it only to two when she breathed, “Happy Birthday, Angel.” My eyes closed and I held them tight. “Angel?” she called when minutes ticked by.
“Yeah?”
“Why did you have to hurt me?” She was on the verge of crying. I could hear it in her voice. If she had stabbed me in the heart, it would have hurt less.
“Because it was the right thing to do.”
“Hurting me was right?”
“I would have never let you go if you didn’t want me to. We both know that.”
“I just don’t understand why my father wanted me back here in the first place.”
“He didn’t.” I forced the air from my lungs. “It was my father.”
She was silent for so long that I checked to see if she’d hung up. “He knows, doesn’t he?”
We had never even spoken about it to each other, yet somehow, it was so easy for my father to see. If Theo would stop keeping Mian at arm's length, maybe he would have seen it, too.
“Yeah.”
“Angel?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you know?”
“Not until I thought I lost you.” I heard her sigh and pictured her smile. It would be sweet and soft like her. “My father is throwing a party tonight, and I want you there.” I need you there. “You’ll be my guest of honor.” Birthday parties haven’t been the norm since before I grew my first pube, and even then, it was my mother who put it together. This year it had been my father’s idea, and I wondered if it had to do with business and I had finally earned my place.
“ But our fathers—”
“Fuck our fathers.” I heard her inhale and waited for her to release, but she never did. She was holding her breath, waiting for what I would say next. “One day, you won’t belong to him.”
“Then who will I belong to?”
So fucking innocent.
“Me.”