On my birthday during my senior year of college, it wasn’t a weekend, and I was due at my internship. Yet Ethan had driven all the way from C City, and I found him waiting beneath my dormitory early that chilly winter morning.
The campus was dusted with sparse snowflakes, and there he stood in his black coat, wearing the white scarf I knitted with my name "Sophia" at its end.
At the sight of me, his typically stoic face softened into a gentle smile. He kissed my forehead and handed me steaming breakfast, nestled warmly in his hands. "Be a good girl, don't lose focus at your internship today," he said. He promised a celebratory dinner after my classes.
I was brimming with excitement throughout the day, energized yet sneaking moments to text Ethan. He invited my friends to join the celebration, offering to cover all expenses, encouraging us to tried all kind of pleasure I liked.
Just before quitting time, Ethan messaged me:
"I'm picking up your cake. Meet me at the company entrance."
That minutes means eternal apart to us. He didn't appear in the end. Night descended swiftly, street lamps flickering on. I blew warmth into my palms.The messages I sent him were unanswered.
"Is the cake not ready to take?"
"Which bakery are you at? Send me the location, I'll come to you."
Silence persisted. I traced the nearest bakery on the map, only to overhear passersby mentioning a severe accident nearby. A drunk driver had run a red light, collided with pedestrians, and crashed into a bakery, shattering glass everywhere.
My heart sank. Calls went unanswered.
Arriving at the scene, cordoned off with police tape, I spotted a bloodied white scarf on the ground. The one I made for Ethan, with "Sophia" barely legible amidst the stains. Unattended cake debris mirrored the shambles of my heart.
Dizziness engulfed me.
Ethan had been rushed to the hospital. Stumbling to confirm with a policeman, my vision blurred.
"A Hospital, alright, I'm on my way."
In the taxi, my phone rang – Ethan calling!
My trembling fingers struggled to answer. "Ethan, are you okay…?"
His raspy, tender voice responded slowly.
"I dropped the scarf you gave me."
I choked back tears. "It’s here, safe with me."
"Good girl, I’m fine. Don't cry, it’ll hurt your head if you keep crying."
"Remember to eat breakfast."
"And, Sophia, happy birthday."
"I'll hear it from you in person when I arrive, these don't count."
Ultimately, those three sentences were the last I heard from him.
My beloved, Ethan, left this world on my birthday.
Ethan.
Ethan.
Ethan.
I called his name numerous time, no response echoed back.
From then on, his voice lived in voice messages I couldn't bear to delete from our chats.
I survived those days, but how, I cannot say. Each day without him was colorless, and I loathed myself for ever meeting him, for loving him, for his accident. If he did not rush to my birthday celebration,he would never die
Birthdays meant nothing without him. His safety is only thing I want.
