“Bubu.”
Tom had rehearsed a dozen things to say, but the moment he held her, his mind went blank. His heart was a mess, too.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you all this,” he said, his voice soft as he pulled her closer. “If I’d said it yesterday on campus, holding your hand, it would’ve felt… cheap, you know?”
Agnes was already crying, hanging onto every word.
“Bubu, I’m not exactly a romantic expert. I don’t know how to make a girl happy,” Tom admitted, his words stumbling but sincere. “Maybe tonight’s not perfect-no grand gestures, no fireworks. It’s probably not what you imagined.”
She shook her head against his chest. No, it was enough. More than enough.
“I just wanted to celebrate your birthday,” he continued. “Take you on the Ferris wheel, spend the evening with you. Just us.”
He held her tighter, the girl who’d loved him for seven years. He hadn’t fallen for her back then, but somewhere along the way-after they’d bonded over that stray cat-she’d quietly slipped into his heart. He’d hesitated, overthought it. Was love supposed to be this cautious?
Every word tonight was raw, unfiltered. “Bubu, I hope you understand.”
Agnes looked up, her eyes wet but smiling. “Thank you. I’m really, really happy.”
Tom’s eyes glistened as he wiped her tears. “The Ferris wheel’s about to start. Let’s sit down, yeah?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He kissed her forehead, guiding her to the seat before letting go.
As the Ferris wheel began its slow climb, Agnes sat by the window, Tom beside her. He opened the small, delicate cake, placing the number 23 candle in the center and lighting it.
Tom stood, holding the cake, and knelt in front of her, his gaze full of adoration as he sang.
“Happy birthday to you, Bubu…” His voice was warm, earnest. It was his first time singing the song, and he poured his heart into it.
Agnes watched him, tears welling up again.
“Happy birthday, Bubu,” he said softly when he finished.
Her heart was pounding. “Thank you, Tom.”
“Actually…” He paused, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I still like it when you call me Mr. Kitten.”
After reading over 400 of her emails, the nickname had grown on him.
Agnes bit her lip, her eyes shining. She didn’t know what to say.
“It’s my special name,” he added, his tone teasing but tender.
“Thank you, my Mr. Kitten.”
He grinned, a warmth spreading through him like never before.
“Make a wish?”
Agnes clasped her hands, closing her eyes like a child.
*Mr. Kitten, I hope your life is filled with joy and peace. No sorrow, just happiness.*
She opened her eyes. “Done.”
They shared a look, their eyes speaking volumes.
Tom didn’t ask what she’d wished for. Together, they blew out the candle.
He sat back down, picking up a fork with a piece of cake. “Here you go, birthday star. First bite’s yours.”