Many Happy Returns.... Again...

Guilty

With that, she hung up and clutched the phone to her chest. Tears fell like rain. How could she feel so let down? He'd sent flowers and chocolates and champagne.

It was probably just the effect of the flu making her so needy. She hoped he understood.

He'd called, and they'd talked, and she'd had everything she wanted, handed on a plate. Well, no. That was the problem, wasn't it. She DIDN'T have everything. She didn't have Tom. Selfish and childish and utterly, utterly ridiculously, outrageous. She wanted to hug him on her birthday like he'd promised. Was that too much to ask? It seemed so. She sat and howled like a five year old having a tantrum.

Then she got up, had a steamy shower, and got dressed from her green (of course) pyjamas to a pair of black joggers and a large t-shirt. One of Tom's actually. It had the comic book cover of Thor on it, and she'd made it her mission to kidnap it. Somehow, she'd prised it from his clutches and never given it back. It was her comfort in times of sorrow and stress. Tonight was no exception.

Six o'clock came and went. Then seven. By 7.45, she was actually getting worried about Julie. It wasn't like her to be so late. She picked up her phone and pressed her contact picture.

It rang a couple of times, and then a very small voice said, "Hi babe. Im so sorry, I'm still at work. We got a last minute.contract in, and I can't get away until the money changes hands." Julie sounded genuinely gutted. "The deadline is 10pm so I could still come over, make you some supper?" There was a note of hope in her voice. Hope that Jenny was quick to crush.

"No, it's ok. You'll be shattered by that time. Just head home, we can celebrate another time. I'm away back to bed. Sleep tight, lovely."

She didn't wait for Julie to answer. She just put the phone down with a gentle click as she laid it on the wooden table.

For a second, Jenny sat, silent and contemplating. They had all, in one way or another, contributed to the worst birthday she'd had since the infamous trifle incident at her 8th birthday party.

Her cousin had eaten the whole thing by himself in the kitchen, and when he was discovered, his dad had dragged him through to applogise to Jenny's mum for spoiling the party food. He didn't get very far. As he opened his mouth to speak, he projectile vomited the whole thing over his dad, his shoes, the carpet, and a whole pile of presents.

Now, all these years later? She still couldn't eat trifle.

She climbed into bed, cuddled into Tom's pillow, and breathed a sigh of relief. It still smelt of him. Oranges and spice and just that indefinable 'Tom' scent that she'd grown to love more and more every day. As she fell asleep, aided by some paracetamol and a couple of the exquisite chocolates he'd sent, in lieu of any dinner, she smiled.

Her mind drifted back to the previous year, The Savoy... the bracelet... the kiss...  Yes, all in all, a birthday to remember for the rest of her life. Pity that this one was, too. For all the wrong reasons.