Chapter 4

My eyes popped open, and my jaw dropped to the flawless white floor. My birthday? I mumbled under my breath, still dazed. I turned to check the calendar on the wall. When I saw the date, a soft gasp escaped my lips, and I made a facepalm in my mind.

Why did I forget the most special day of my life?

It took me a moment to compose myself. I closed my mouth before a fly could enter and dropped to my knees in front of Mom.

“Happy birthday, Lily,” Mom whispered weakly. She caressed my cheek with her frail hands and surveyed my face. “I’m sorry I have no present to give you,” she said regretfully. My heart shattered into pieces.

“You don’t need to give me one, Mom,” I told her. The regret in her eyes transformed into warmth. “Having you here by my side today is the greatest gift I could ever receive.”

Tears clouded her eyes, and for a moment, I thought she would cry. But she blinked back the tears and held my hands. A soft smile emerged from her thin, pale lips. “I’m lucky to have a daughter like you,” she mumbled. It made my heart swell with joy.

“I’m luckier to have you as my mother.”

“Lily, will you promise me you will always be happy even after I'm gone?” Mom asked, startling me. A chill ran down my spine as her words reverberated in my ears. The smile on my lips disappeared.

Why is she raising that question now?

I opened my mouth, but before I could object, I stopped. The grave expression on her face held me back. “Will you promise me?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I swallowed hard and dropped my gaze to the floor. Can I do it? “You will not leave me, right, Mom?” The question burst from my lips as I met her gaze. An imaginary heart squeezed my chest. I pursed my lips and swallowed the lump in my throat as I smoothed the remaining strands of her hair after countless chemotherapy sessions.

But I could not contain my emotions any longer. Within seconds, tears raced down my cheeks.

Mom looked so pitiful. Her wrinkled skin clung to her bones, and there were shadows under her eyes. She could not even walk on her own. I didn’t think she would survive another chemotherapy session in her condition. Yet, even with her health deteriorating, Mom always wore a smile and had an enviable outlook on life.

“I accepted my fate a long time ago, but before I die, I want you to promise me you will be happy,” she said, her eyes locked on mine.

A moment of silence passed between us.

“Lily?”

I pushed the doubt away and surrendered. In a barely audible voice, I replied, “I promise, Mom.”

A smile lit her face. “Thank you, Lily. I have faith in you. I know you will fulfill your promise.” She pulled me into a tight hug.

“You don’t need to thank me, Mom.” I kissed her on the temples before rising to my feet and drying my cheeks.

Celine cleared her throat to catch my attention. “Happy birthday, Lily,” she greeted again. The smile on her face broke the tension in the atmosphere, and I relaxed. “I brought your favorite black forest cake.” She grinned, showing me the cake. “Please make a wish now.”

I closed my eyes and did what Celine told me before blowing out the candle. I’m getting older, I thought as the flame snuffed out.

“I prepared food downstairs. We must eat before it turns cold.”

“You go first, Celine. I’ll carry Mom downstairs,” I told her.

Celine went ahead. I turned to Mom. With ease, I lifted her into my arms and carefully descended the stairs. She was so light, almost like a child, and I had no difficulty carrying her until we reached the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Mom mumbled when I finally lowered her into a chair.

The enticing scent of food permeated my nostrils, making my mouth water. I suddenly realized I was starving. The food on the table was difficult to resist.

“This is your Mom’s idea,” Celine said, pointing out the dishes, all of my favorites.

“But it was you who spent hours cooking these for Lily’s birthday,” Mom replied.

“But you were with me when I cooked these. It was your recipe,” Celine chuckled, pulling a chair opposite me.

“Both of you did wonderfully. I will definitely enjoy this breakfast,” I exclaimed, pulling a chair beside Mom. Both women grinned at me.

“Shall we pray so we can eat? My stomach is growling.”

Celine led the prayer. When she finished, I served Mom a small portion before filling my own plate and starting to eat.

“How was your wedding anniversary celebration last night?” Celine asked, taking a bite of her food. Her attention was focused on her plate, so she didn’t see the startled expression on my face.

“I was in a rush because my niece had a fever, and I forgot to ask. I’m eager to hear the—” She finally raised her head and stopped upon seeing my ashen face.

“I’m sorry, Lily. I shouldn't have asked,” she blurted out. Regret danced in her deep blue eyes.

“It’s okay, Celine,” I replied, lowering my eyes to my plate, pretending to like the food even though I lost my appetite. But I could still see Mom looking at me.

“It did not go well, Celine,” I said. “It’s a long story.” I took a bite of the steak in front of me.

Celine sensed I wasn’t ready to share details. She didn’t press further and let her attention wander back to her food. Mom did the same. Silence hung over the table until we finished breakfast.

“I will wash the dishes,” I volunteered after we finished our black forest cake for dessert. But Celine quickly stopped me.

“It’s my turn to wash the plates, Lily.” She had already gathered the empty plates before I could object.

I bit my lower lip. “But it’s not your responsibility, Celine,” I protested, transferring the remaining plates to the sink.

“Silly. The food I eat is not your responsibility, either, but you always include me in preparing meals. I’m just returning the favor,” she reasoned. “You still have to prepare for work. You will be late if you wash the dishes.”

With a sigh, I surrendered. “You win then.”

I turned on the television so Mom could watch her favorite talk show on the sofa before heading upstairs to my room.

Grabbing a bath towel from the wall, I marched to the bathroom but stopped halfway at the sound of my phone ringing. I picked it up from the bed and glanced at the screen. An unregistered number was flashing.

Hesitantly, I answered, assuming it was an important call.

“Hello,” I greeted, trying to sound cheerful. There was no response.

“This is Lily. How may I help you?” I asked, but the other line remained silent. I pressed the end button. It must be teenagers playing a prank on random numbers, I thought, returning the phone to its place.

Ding!

The stubborn beep started again, this time a text message. I wasn’t surprised to see it was from the same number. When I read the message, the phone almost slipped from my hold.

Happy birthday, Lily.

My temples scrunched in confusion as I looked at the text. Since the sender remained anonymous, I had no clue who it was.

It must be one of my co-workers at the restaurant, I thought with a shrug.

Without further delay, I went to the bathroom to prepare for work before I ran out of time.