Chapter 85
Timothy strode toward her, his steps steady, his dark eyes aglow with a gentle, mysterious light.
He leaned down, lifted the blanket, and without a word, scooped her up from the bed into his arms.
His arms were strong, holding her with effortless strength.
Cradled against his broad chest, Jessica felt safe, cocooned in his warmth.
He carried her over to the table where the cake sat, then settled into the chair without letting her go, so she ended up in his lap.
Jessica found herself nestled in his embrace, perched on his thigh–intimate, their bodies close.
With his right arm wrapped around her, Timothy reached under her arm and picked up a box of birthday sparklers from the table.
His other hand fished out a lighter. He lit a sparkler, placed it in her hand, his palm covering hers, and together they touched the flame to the tiny candles on the cake. As soon as the “2” candle caught, it burst into a spray of tiny sparks, like a miniature firework.
So they were sparkling candles–three of them, all at once, showering the room in soft bursts of light. Timothy drew her closer, his chin resting in the curve of her neck, his voice low and gentle.
“Don’t just stare–make a wish.”
His sudden tenderness left her mind blank, caught somewhere between disbelief and longing.
For several seconds she couldn’t even remember what she wanted to wish for.
Just as the sparklers were burning down, Timothy covered her eyes with his hand.
“Close your eyes. Make a wish. Quick, before it’s too late.”
Only then did Jessica silently make her birthday wish for the year.
The quiet, unexpected warmth Timothy showed her tonight tugged at her heartstrings.3
She couldn’t help but hope–just a little.
She wished her suspicions would prove wrong, just as tonight had surprised her.
She only had six months left.
When she’d found out about the cancer, she’d thought: if, in the time she had left, Timothy could fall in love with her, she’d have no other wishes in this life.
When the sparklers finally burned out, Timothy took her hand, and together they cut the cake.
The room was still bathed in soft, golden light, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken emotion.
Suddenly, Jessica noticed the plastic knife meet some resistance in the cake w
Timothy didn’t seem to care; he guided her hand to pull the knife free and started cutting from another angle.
Then he let go of her, leveled the knife, and scooped out a smail piece of cake onto a plate, offering it to her.
“Did you eat anything tonight?”
His gaze was attentive, all focus.&
She shook her head.2
“Then have some cake.” He handed her the plate.
She hesitated, not taking it.
“What, do you want me to feed you?“%
Timothy’s eyes locked on hers, the look in them dark and intense.
She pressed her lips together, wondering–would he really?
A second later, Timothy picked up a fork, speared a small piece of cake, and brought it to her lips.
The sweet aroma filled the air.
She hadn’t eaten dinner, had fallen asleep in the bath, and when she’d woken up, her mind was in a fog–she’d forgotten all about her empty stomach.
Now, with the cake in front of her, her mouth watered.
She opened up and took a bite.
Obedient, gentle–just the way Timothy liked.
A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.
Even Jessica was surprised by how patient he was, feeding her two pieces of cake without a hint of annoyance
When he moved to feed her a third, she shook her head.
“You’re full?”
She nodded.
“But I’m not.”
His gaze lingered on her, his voice dropping, eyes dark and shining with a look Jessica knew all too well.
Her cheeks flushed instantly.
Timothy cut another slice, set it on a plate, and as he moved the cake, the bottom shifted, revealing the edge of a small, transparent box hidden beneath.
