Until my Last Breath

28

             Barcelona, Spain.

The grey box lays before my eyes but my hand remains trembling.

I just can't do it.

I've been dreading today for weeks. Birthdays used to be magical, filled with Mom's laughter, her over-the-top decorations, and the unmistakable smell of her homemade cake wafting through the house. Now, it's just another day—a reminder of what I've lost.

I shove the box my mom gave me the last time i saw her aside and sit up on the sofa, clutching my phone. My thumb hovers over the folder of voice notes I've saved from her. I haven't played them in months—not since the funeral—but the silence is unbearable. I hit play.

Her voice fills the room, warm and full of love.

-"Happy birthday, my sweet girl! I hope you have the best day! Remember, no matter where I am, I'm always with you!"

I close my eyes, her words wrapping around me like a hug. For a moment, it feels like she's here, just in the next room, waiting to surprise me with balloons and presents.

"I miss you, Mom," I whisper, my throat tightening.

The lump in my throat won't go away, I grab a blanket, settle onto the couch, and put on one of my favorite comfort movies. Maybe losing myself in someone else's story will help me escape mine for a little while.

But then there's a knock at the door.

At first, I consider ignoring it. I'm not in the mood to see anyone, and it's probably just someone dropping off something work-related. But the knocking persists, so I drag myself up and shuffle to the door.

When I open it, I'm greeted by once again—Gavi, standing there with that confident, easy grin that oddly always seems to catch me off guard.

"Uh... hi?" I say, blinking at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey," he says casually, leaning a little against the doorframe. "I heard it's your birthday."

I frown, confused. "How do you know that?"

He smirks like he's been caught in a secret. "A little bird told me."

I narrow my eyes, not buying it. "What little bird?"

He shrugs, clearly enjoying my confusion. "Just trust me on this one."

I cross my arms. " why are you here?"

"To celebrate, obviously," he says like it's the most natural thing in the world. Then he glances past me into the house. "So... you coming, or do I have to drag you out?"

I laugh softly, more out of surprise than amusement. "I'm not going anywhere today."

He raises a brow, clearly unfazed. "Alright then, guess we're staying in."

Before I can protest, he steps inside, shutting the door behind him. I stare at him, a mix of amusement and disbelief swirling in my chest. He's so casual, so self-assured, that I don't even try to stop him.

"What are we watching?" he asks, plopping onto the couch like he's been here a thousand times before.

For a moment, I just stand there, unsure how to respond. But there's something about his presence that breaks through the heaviness of the day. It's not unwelcome—just unexpected.

I shake my head and sit down beside him. "I already started something."

"Perfect," he says, grabbing a corner of the blanket I'm wrapped in and tugging it over himself. "Let's see what you've got."