Theodore Nott had never forgotten her birthday. Ever since they were teenagers, he had always been the first to wish her a happy birthday, whether it was at midnight over the phone, with flowers waiting for her at school, or a handwritten letter tucked into her bag. No matter how busy life became, he always made sure she knew she was loved.
This year, life refused to slow down. Theodore's modeling career had him flying from one city to another, surviving on little sleep and endless work. His girlfriend wasn't doing much better. As a finance director, she spent most of her days buried beneath meetings, reports, and deadlines that followed her home every evening. They still loved each other deeply, but lately their conversations had become shorter, their dinners quieter, and their time together painfully rare.
The morning of her birthday felt like every other morning. Theodore left the apartment before sunrise after giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, apologizing for another long day ahead. She smiled softly and wished him a good day, never once reminding him what the date was. She thought he had something planned. After all, he had never forgotten before.
Throughout the day, she found herself checking her phone more often than she wanted to admit. Every notification made her heart lift for a moment before sinking again. As evening arrived, she quietly stopped by a bakery on her way home and bought a small cake for two. She told herself Theodore was probably planning to surprise her after work. She cooked dinner, set the table, lit the candles, and waited.
Nine o'clock passed.
Then ten.
The food slowly grew cold.
The candles melted into little pools of wax.
Eventually, she blew them out herself.
By the time Theodore unlocked the apartment door, it was nearly midnight. The place was completely silent. He frowned when he noticed the dining table still neatly set, untouched plates resting beside a small birthday cake. A bouquet of flowers she had bought for herself sat quietly in the middle of the table. It took only a second for his eyes to find the date written on the bakery box.
Everything inside him dropped.
His hands began to shake.
He had forgotten.
Completely.
He slowly looked around the apartment as the weight of it settled over him. She hadn't asked for expensive gifts. She hadn't asked for a grand celebration. She had simply waited for him. She had believed, just as she had every year before, that he would remember.
Theodore walked toward their bedroom and gently pushed the door open. She was already asleep, still wearing the dress she'd chosen that morning, her makeup slightly smudged from the long day. On the bedside table sat her phone, its screen dark and silent. There wasn't a single missed call from him.
He quietly sat beside her, unable to look away. Memories came flooding back all at once—every birthday she had spent making him feel special, every surprise she had planned, every tiny detail she had remembered because she loved him. And when it was finally his turn to do the same, he had let work consume him so completely that he hadn't even remembered what day it was.
His eyes filled with tears as he gently reached for her sleeping hand.