The polite smile on Elmer’s face grew even brighter.
Niamh and Elmer spent ages picking out suits, and for as long as they deliberated, Jonathan stood nearby, watching in silence.
The sales associate recognized Jonathan. Even though he wasn’t doing anything–just standing quietly–she didn’t dare ask him to leave.
In the end, Niamh purchased two suits: one white, one black.
Both were chosen by Elmer.
She handed the white suit to Elmer and then passed the black one to Jonathan.
Jonathan hesitated, caught off guard, as Niamh spoke calmly, “This is your birthday present. I was going to have my assistant drop it off, but since we ran into each other, I’ll just give it to you now.”
Niamh’s thoughtfulness–remembering his birthday–sparked a flicker of joy in Jonathan. But the suit itself put an abrupt end to it.
“But this is Elmer’s style,” he protested.
Seeing Jonathan’s frown, Niamh replied, completely unabashed, “That’s right. Elmer likes this look. Don’t you want it?”
As she moved to take the suit back, Jonathan suddenly grabbed the bag.
“I want it.”
The words came out between gritted teeth.
His eyes locked onto Niamh’s, searching for something she kept carefully hidden. behind her calm façade–a secret satisfaction, a sense of payback she would never let him see.
She let go of the bag wordlessly, turned, and walked out of the shop with Elmer at
her side.
The tension radiating from Jonathan was so palpable that the sales associate didn’t dare approach him.
So, Niamh had given him a birthday gift–just not one of his own choosing, but Elmer’s.
Jonathan’s hand tightened around the handles of the bag. He remembered all the
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times he’d given Niamh gifts In the past-
Pink roses, pink dresses, pink handbags–item after item,
All things Marina liked.
So this was what it felt like, receiving a gift chosen for someone else’s taste, not your own.
Jonathan closed his eyes, darkness pressing in. It was supposed to be spring, but the weather had turned–temperatures plummeting, clouds hanging low and heavy, threatening a downpour at any moment.
Today was Jonathan’s birthday.
In years past, on this day, Niamh would be busy in the old family kitchen, cooking for the entire household, then cleaning up and washing the dishes afterward.
But this year, on the same day, Niamh was driving out to a construction site in the suburbs. She had to deliver a custom watch to Mr. York.
Originally, she was supposed to meet him at his office, but he’d called at the last minute to say he was heading out for an inspection and asked her to bring the watch to the site instead.
As she drove, lightning flashed through the clouds ahead, followed by a thunderclap that rattled the steering wheel.
Back at Thomas Manor, Jonathan’s birthday party was underway.
The guest list was long–most of them invited by Sprague Thomas, who never missed a chance to mix business with pleasure.
Jonathan, the birthday boy, wore a stiff expression throughout, completely -uninterested in the festivities.
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Marina approached him, her hands cradling a carefully wrapped present. “Jonathan, I had this gemstone mosaic custom–made by a renowned artist.”
Jonathan looked down at the artwork. The image was unmistakably a portrait of himself, crafted entirely from a kaleidoscope of precious stones.
“Thank you. You went to a lot of trouble,” he said with a faint smile–the first one he’d managed all day.
Marina’s face lit up, thrilled to see her gift so well received.
