Seven

17

I wake up to the hot summer sun poking through the curtains. Its rays are warm against my skin, making my bed feel too toasty. Instinctively, I kick off the blanket. The room is quiet, and for a moment, I almost drift back into sleep, feeling the heat of the sun cuddle me like the blanket I had just slept on.

As I lay there for a few minutes, I remember the gentle touch of Aiden's hand on my back and his whispered promise that tonight would be special. The night before lingers in my mind like a sweet echo.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, snapping me back to reality. I reach for it, squinting at the bright screen. A text from Aiden greets me on the lock screen I had just changed to a picture of him and I.

Aiden: good morning, beautiful. I hope you slept well. i can't wait to see you tonight.

A smile spreads across my face, a rush of warmth blooming in my chest. I quickly type a reply.

Me: Good morning! I'm looking forward to tonight too. :)

Sliding out of bed, I stretch and glance at the shadow my body casts on the wall. I head towards the kitchen, the smell of savory bacon drifting through the house like a comforting embrace. In the kitchen, Alex is focused on a sizzling pan. His face brightens when he sees me.

"Good morning, Sev," he says, placing bacon into the hot pan. "Do you know what today is?"

I nod, reaching for cups from the cabinet. "July seventh."

Alex raises an eyebrow, grinning widely. "Yeah, it's seven-seven. Pretty cool, right? And I hear you've got plans for tonight."

"Yeah," I reply, pouring orange juice into each cup. "Aiden's picking me up at seven."

Alex chuckles, shaking his head. "A date on the seventh night of the seventh month. I swear, that number follows you around."

I laugh, feeling the warmth of the coffee seep through the mug into my hands. "I guess it does. I see it as a sign."

He cracks eggs one by one into a bowl. "A sign of what?"

"About Dad," I say, leaning against the counter. "There was a letter he left behind the day he left. It said that whenever I saw that number, it meant he was thinking of me."

Alex goes quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the eggs. "Oh."

"You don't ever miss him?" I ask, trying to gauge his feelings.

"I used to," he admits, his voice subdued. "But now? I'm just angry."

"I get that," I sigh, putting the orange juice back in the fridge. "I can't bring myself to hate him, though."

We carry breakfast to Mom's room. She's propped up in bed, her tired eyes lifting to meet us. A weak smile forms on her lips as she sees the tray.

"Morning, Mom," Alex says softly, placing the tray beside her. "We made you breakfast."

She nods, her gaze distant. "Thank you."

I sit beside her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "How are you feeling today?"

"Not too great," she murmurs, taking a bite of breakfast. Alex and I exchange glances, our frowns deepening with concern.

After breakfast, I head back to my room to get ready. I pull out my favorite dress, navy blue and deep like the ocean under a moonlit sky. I curl the ends of my hair and apply mascara to my already long eyelashes.

At exactly seven, the doorbell rings, sending a jolt of excitement through me. I smile to myself, taking a deep breath as I stare into the mirror. I walk downstairs to find Aiden on the porch, his face illuminated by a radiant smile that makes my stomach flutter. He's dressed in a crisp shirt and jeans, looking effortlessly handsome. In his hands is a bouquet of peonies—my favorite.