Moonlight Kisses

birthday girl

beau.

"I hate you. You might not give a shit, but I just thought you should know."

Piglet glares back at me with his ears pointed straight up. He may be a whole other species but I'm sure he can pick up on the extreme dislike in my voice.

I'm very aware of Jo's presence only a few feet away, possibly eavesdropping, but I can't give a definitive answer to that as her loud ass music showcases a different narrative. Then again, she hasn't marched in here to scold me for talking to her dog with anything other than sweet compliments so she's probably oblivious.

"She's mine. She was mine before you were even born," I hiss at Piglet. This doesn't come without being provoked, before Jo went into the bathroom to get ready I held her undivided attention until Piglet showed up. I'd like to think myself rational, I'm generally open to compromise and I can't deny the fact that I love seeing my girl's face light up. Even if it is because of a little fucker we call the family dog.

He welcomed himself on my bed, not wasting a second in making himself comfortable on Jo's lap, then he had the utter nerve to growl at me. He was the intruder, he shouldn't get a say in anything. But of course, Jo will side with him every time. So she made me move to the other end of the bed while she cuddled the dog.

Lucky bastard.

My head turns at the sounds of footsteps. Noticing Jo coming into the room in long strides, she laughs, "Why are you talking to yourself?" Her voice sounds too airy to have heard what I was actually saying, thankfully.

Only half of her hair is pin straight and flowing down her back; the other half is tied up in a small bun near the top of her head. I offered to braid her hair for her to ease her worries about time, but she kindly turned me down, saying she wanted to put in the effort today at least.

It's her birthday after all.

I couldn't believe I'd never known how she truly felt about her birthday until this morning when she got all shy about me waking her up with breakfast in bed. Downstairs at seven o'clock sharp, Katie was giving me a tutorial on how to make the savory pancakes she never fails to serve. It isn't that boxed up shit either, I quickly learned that we'd be making it all from scratch. Hell, what could I say? I wanted to be able to tell my girl that I made her breakfast. I even had the burn mark on my wrist from flipping pancakes to prove it to her.

Not to brag, but I think the whole thing came out pretty decent. It was no five course gourmet meal, just pancakes, eggs, bacon, with a side of strawberries. Yet, she had been very pleased. After she got over her shyness. Turns out, she didn't like her birthday all that much. Not for any particular reason, she just prefers to brush it off so people won't make a big deal about it.

I quickly reminded her that every year I'd make the biggest fucking deal I could about her birthday. Every day I make sure she knows how appreciated and loved she is, but on her birthdays, I'm really going to make it known whether she likes it or not. She deserves the complete fucking best, from me at least. I can make do without throwing a gigantic birthday party, I like having her all to myself anyway. But to expect me not to make a big fucking deal about her special day is just cruel.

Watching as she giddily skips into the closet to pick her outfit I suppose, I can't help but admire her. So much has changed in so little time and I couldn't be prouder of her.

Two weeks ago might have been the lowest I'd seen her since the beginning of summer. It broke my heart to see her that way, in shock and fearful of the things she'd barely mustered the bravery to do. After tearing that dress off her, I thought we'd gone back to how it was before the therapy sessions and the extensive pep talks. I thought she'd have to start over from scratch, I was more than willing to help her don't get me wrong, my biggest concern though was her well being. I wondered if she could really do it all again.