The Gifts Begin
When it was time for presents, my heart raced with the same excitement I felt as a kid.
My parents handed me an envelope with money, telling me it was for “whatever dream I hadn’t chased yet.” Mark’s sister gave me a thoughtful skincare set. His mom, Linda, gifted me a soft towel—practical, like everything she chose.
Then Mark stood and handed me a small velvet box. My palms grew damp as I opened it slowly. Inside was a delicate gold ring, the exact one I had admired so many times but never asked for.
“Mark… this must have cost a fortune,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
“For you? Nothing is too much,” he said, smiling in that way that always melts my heart.
I hugged him, kissed his cheek, and for a moment, I was floating.
Then the air shifted.
