Chapter 9 - Shared Birthdays

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"Happy birthday Luna!" My dad exclaims as he pushes me into the kitchen. In the middle of the table is a cake which manages to spark my excitement. He's sprinkled glitter all over the table while my gifts remain in my room.

The argument, or debate, is forgotten. Maybe it will return tomorrow along with my frustration over his late night activities but, for one day, we pretended everything was normal. We eat, laugh, and take pictures all morning and into the afternoon. Dad fusses over me every second, never leaving me alone. We watch old films together, something I know he doesn't enjoy but is just enduring because it's half my day.

When he has to leave for work at six, I almost regret making him work and being so stubborn in our conversation. I imagine what we would do for the rest of the night if he'd stay. We could watch more movies, stay up late, and finish the cake that's definitely meant for more than two people. However, I can see in his eyes that he need to get out of here. He's been energetic and given me all of his attention for hours and, now, he needs time to himself. If he stayed, he would wonder what she was doing to celebrate. Perhaps she was with someone. Maybe she had a new family.

The silence in our house overwhelms me. Now that I'm alone, I realise I needed him here to distract me; to make me forget. The fact that I am celebrating my birthday without my mother leads me to the kitchen. The thought that my mother is living her best life and celebrating her birthday without her child makes me slice another piece of cake.

Cake can cure anything, right?

I mean, it's not like I had any other form of escapism. I suppose I could read or watch something... alone. Looking around our kitchen, I realise I have never been so alone. How could I feel like this when I had the best start to my day? Surely that meant something.

For a split second, I contemplate getting the bottle of vodka from dad's room. I'm sure that would make me forget everything. The image of my father sobbing without a pause halts any desire to drink the clear liquid. I can only imaging how I would end up: probably crying uncontrollably while ringing my dad in work. Or, I'd leave the house and do something stupid like look for George's house. Or the pizza place we visited so I could give Walter a piece of my mind.

So no vodka for me.

At half seven, I'm absentmindedly scrolling on my phone with the television on in the background. When I get a glimpse of who it is, I am both relieved and horrified.

In front of me stands the very person I have been avoiding for weeks. It shocks me that he's really here, on my birthday, and that he's still trying to talk to me. Almost sensing my next move, George puts his foot out to make sure I don't slam the door in his face. Now that I get a proper look at him, I notice he looks angry. More angry than I had seen him before. Okay, maybe not as angry as the night we dealt with Walter but pretty close. Without saying anything, he takes in my appearance, his eyes pausing on my new skirt. While I get the chance, I sneak a glance at him. There was no denying he looked good but what caught my attention was the fire in his eyes. It looks like anger and... something else.

"These damn skirts are killing me," he admits as his hands inevitably move to grip the sides. Being quick, I avoid his advance. We hadn't spoken properly in weeks and that was what was on his mind?

The negative of my movement is that the door opens wider, giving him his chance as he pushes his way through. My bottom lip is trapped by my teeth while my eyes close momentarily as I remain stood by the door. When I do look at him, he's getting very comfortable in my home. George raises his eyebrows at my expression, almost daring me to say something, before he shakes his head. Exhaling, I watch as he takes in the kitchen with slow eyes until he meets the cake. The lone plate next to it. Suddenly, I feel very stupid, very small, that I'm eating my own cake alone. George's eyes find my own as he takes in my flushed face and I take in the unrecognisable look in his eyes. Slowly, he makes his way over to me until we have little space between us. Our eyes have remained locked throughout the whole journey and I cannot seem to snap out of his trance.

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