“Yeah? Well, it’s a good thing for you that it’s your lips that I love and not Brantley’s,” I tease, leaning into his warm embrace.
His arms tighten around me. “That’s a very good thing.”
I angle my head to look up at him. “Thank you for making this the best birthday I’ve had in years.”
“Why didn’t you tell me your birthday was coming up?”
I shrug before answering. “It’s just another day to me. And we haven’t really known each other all that long.”
“Okay. I can understand the second part of your answer, I guess. But we’ve known each other long enough.”
“Well, then, when’s your birthday? It’s not like you’ve divulged that information to me.” My words are curt even though I don’t mean for them to be.
“August fifteenth. I’ll be twenty-six. But that’s neither here nor there. I wanna know why you don’t like to celebrate your birthday?”
I turn my gaze away from him to look at everyone who’s here to celebrate my birthday. He waits patiently for my answer. “It’s a day that reminds me of my parents.”
I feel him nod against the side of my head. “Look at me, please.” Wes hooks a finger under my chin and forces me to look at him. Slowly, my eyes open, and I look up from beneath my lashes. I can see my pain reflecting back at me as I stare into his eyes. “You lived. I’m sorry for what you’ve had to go through. I can’t ever imagine losing my parents, but you lived, Kenleigh. And I believe God saved you for me. So live. Live for me. Live. For. You.”
I’m on the brink of breaking down as newfound tears threaten to fall. I’m not sure what I have done in this life to deserve such a wonderful man, but I feel so blessed. Vigorously, I nod as I attempt to swallow my emotions. How many times in one day can a person cry? “You’re right. Today marks a new day. A new me. So, with that said, I want to enjoy today and every day from now on.” I turn in his arms and bind mine around his neck. “Now, I’d like to eat some of that awesome cake that keeps staring at me,” I say, gazing between him and my cake.
Wes throws his head back in laughter and lifts me off the ground, which brings a smile to my face. This is what I want to see. I want his face lit up with laughter, not creased with lines of worry for me. “Anything for my birthday girl.” He lifts his head, leans down, and pecks my lips. Gently, he puts me back on my feet. Taking my hand in his, we walk over towards the table, only stopping a couple of times for people to wish me happy birthday.
“Happy Birthday,” Mr. Will says as we step up behind the cake. “I would have told you earlier this mornin’, but I had to get in here and get the horses out to the pasture so that we could clean out all the stalls.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I shake off his explanation with a smile. “And thank you. All of you… for this.”
Wes cups his hands around his mouth and shouts that it’s time for cake.
As everyone gathers around the table, I clear my throat, gaining their attention. “I just wanted to say thank y’all for wanting to celebrate my birthday with me. I haven’t celebrated this day in quite some time. And I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather start celebrating this day with again than all of you.” I pick the knife up off the table and begin to cut into the cake before finishing my speech. “I am starting new today. I was given this day to celebrate my life, and I will, every year, from here on out.” I place the freshly cut piece of cake on a plate, then lift the plate in the air. “Let’s eat some cake!” I shout, before shoving the piece in Wes’ face. The plate falls to the floor as pieces of cake tumble to the ground below with it. An uproar of laughter resonates throughout the barn. His entire face is smeared with chocolate icing and white cake. A few flower petals stick out of the icing. Wes brings his hands up to his face, wiping cake and icing from his eyes. Slowly, they open and stare back at me.
“Babe, I think you have some cake on your face.” I point to the corner my lip as if I have frosting on my own face. I try to hold back from laughing, but it’s no use.
“I do, huh?” he asks, lunging for me. Quickly, I dart behind Mrs. Sandy. “Mom? Could you please move?” Wes asks. A mischievous smile mars his cake-covered face.
She crosses her arms over her chest and juts out her hip. “See, I’d love to, Son, but I need to at least give Kenleigh here a chance to make a run for it.” Those words spur me into action. As I sprint out the back of the barn and into the field, I hear Wes’ feet pound against the ground below.