I glanced at my phone and realized, with a small jolt of disbelief, that it was my birthday. Somehow, in the steady blur of life with Ashton — the appointments, the waiting, the careful management of each day — I had let it slip past entirely. If it weren't for the occasional glance at my ID, I might have gone the whole day without knowing.
"Thank you," I whispered, genuinely stunned.
"Do you have plans for the evening?" John asked.
I lifted my eyes to the yard, where the last of the sunset was fading into deep blue at the edges. Night was coming in properly now, and I rarely went out anymore — just waiting, day by day, for the pup to arrive. "I'm staying home," I said.
"Want me to come by and celebrate?" His voice was gentle, no pressure in it.
"No, it's fine. I appreciate it." I did appreciate it. But Ashton wouldn't welcome it, and I had no interest in manufacturing complications on a quiet evening.
