Chapter 9

At the end of the year, I celebrated my first birthday since getting out of prison. Claire had planned to spend it with me, but her dad ended up in the hospital, so she couldn't make it.

After closing up the shop that night, I went by myself to a bakery and picked out a small cake. Just something simple to mark the day.

The apartment building was old and rundown, the emergency lights in the stairwell long since burned out, leaving everything dark and a little grim.

Then, I saw him.

Standing at the entrance of the building, his figure framed by the pale moonlight. Sean Parker, holding a cake in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and a pile of butts scattered at his feet. When he saw me, he hurriedly put out the cigarette and gave me a sheepish grin.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," he said, looking both apologetic and a little awkward.

I let him in, and as soon as he stepped through the door, he started inspecting the place like it was a crime scene—checking the plumbing, the gas lines, even the windows.

I set both cakes on the table, then turned to him. "Why didn't you just come by the shop?"

He rubbed his cold hands together, offering me a crooked smile. "I wasn't sure you'd let me in."

I couldn't help but laugh. Clever guy.

When it came time to blow out the candles, I made my wish—nothing fancy, just for the people I cared about to be safe and happy.

But just as we were about to dig in, there was a knock at the door.

I raised an eyebrow. "Who the hell is that?"

Sean seemed to know exactly what was going on. Without missing a beat, he stood up and went to open the door.

I glanced over toward the entrance. A delivery driver stood there, holding a package.

Sean took the box and opened it like he was revealing a hidden treasure. Then, with a grin, he slid it toward me.

"Moutai ice cream. Happy birthday, Thea Brown."

I stared at it for a moment, trying to process it. He remembered.

That summer after graduation, Sean and I had been walking around, window shopping, when we saw an ad for Moutai ice cream. We'd heard it was fancy and expensive, but we didn't have the money for it back then. We'd just laughed it off, joking that maybe someday we'd be able to try it on our birthdays.

Six years later, here we were.

I spooned some ice cream into my bowl, then looked up at him, offering him a new spoon.

"Aren't you going to try it?"

He shook his head, his gaze drifting out the window, like he was lost in thought.

I had a feeling there was something he wasn't telling me, but I didn't press. I waited for him to speak.

After a long silence, he finally did.

"Thea... I'm leaving tomorrow. For work. I might stay there... maybe even settle down. I'm not sure if I'll ever come back."

I felt the words land in my chest, heavy. For a moment, I didn't know what to say. Finally, I forced a smile.

"That's great," I said, but I didn't feel it. Not really.

He was leaving to live the life I had always imagined for myself. And here I was, stuck in this old apartment, still figuring things out.

About twenty minutes after I'd seen him off, I heard noise in the stairwell.

When I opened the door, I was met with Sean's sheepish grin again.

In the dim light, he was standing on a ladder, holding a new lightbulb.

Had he left? Or had he come back?

He explained, calm as ever, "The emergency light in the stairwell was broken. I borrowed some tools from the convenience store downstairs. Thought I'd fix it real quick."

His voice echoed in the hallway, soft and smooth, like a warm breeze.

I couldn't look away.

A second later, the light flickered on, brightening up the whole hallway. Sean turned and smiled, his eyes sparkling in the new light.

"Thea Brown," he said, his voice suddenly serious, "I'm leaving. Take care of yourself."

I nodded, trying not to let the lump in my throat show. "Alright, Sean Parker. Safe travels."