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Getty’s smile froze, turning into an awkward grimace before shet back into a strained smile. “T was just kidding! Why so serious? You really had me going,” she said, her laugh nervous.

Alexander’s lips curled into a slight smile. “Me too, just joking.”

The restaurant was was buzzing with people coming and alone, waiting for hours with no sign of Alexander.

She

g. But in the middle of it all, Quinn sat

rested her chin in her hand, her gaze fixed on the window, watching the multitude of lights gradually fade as the once-bustling streets grew s**e and deserted.

As the restaurant emptied, it was as if the tide had receded, leaving behind a desolate silence. The world outside darkened, and the restaurant lights dimmed until none remained. The person who had promised to celebrate her birthday with her never appeared.

“Mrs. Kennedy?” A voice called from behind her.

Startled, Quinn was brought back to reality. She turned to see the Manager standing beside her, accompanied by two waitstaff. “We’re closing up for the night,” he explained, a smile on his face.

Quinn was slow to comprehend. She looked around at the dimly lit interior, only to realize she was the last patron left. Disappointment didn’t quite encapsulate her feelings. It was more akin to a familiar sense of emptiness.

The wait hadn’t been long, not really. Compared to the endless days and nights spent alone in an empty house, five hours was nothing.

As Quinn prepared to leave, a server appeared with a cake. “Mrs. Kennedy, since today is your birthday, we have a cake prepared for you,” said the waiter, placing it before her. “Happy Birthday.”

The Manager suggested, “It’s almost midnight. Please enjoy your cake and make a wish before you go.”

The flickering candles cast a warm glow on the cake’s surface, but Quinn saw only pity in the Manager’s

eyes.

She forced a smile, though it was more weary than cheerful. “Happy Birthday, Quinn,’ she thought, her eyes closed. She made no wishes. In her experience, making wishes in front of birthday cakes never seemed to work out.

The Manager sighed quietly as he watched her frail silhouette. He had seen her sitting there for hours after a man had made arrangements and promised someone would arrive.

Yet after five hours, no one came. Being stood up on her birthday, he thought, was truly pitiful.

Quinn opened her eyes and blew out the candles. The Manager immediately helped her slice the cake. Sedded it, and the Manage, chuckling, weeprat his piere

to plant figurine from his pocket and acest is to her. “This is a beste keepsake from our dance. Cinder in a berthday gift from un

Quid at the miniature figure, smiles, and nodded her thanks. It was then the Manager realized thewan mute

Not wanting to understay, Quines tonik, a bit the cake But as the rich, buttery cream hit bes palate, In

her het

Chonching her teeth, her fan in win, ringt take another bite, she pulled out her phone and Expand a musings to the Marige “Thy all we got to head out.”This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

Win Kansedy please take care. Would you like to up the cake from you?” he offered

Though she set much in. Qantas noblest kan thon to puck it up.

Carrying the

cake

a fee ferthanal

of the testaurand, the hiidud tight fox the showy replanta of her

naby wash ham and retched. It

mich that she felt some ruiter.

womat und der again

The nightawer halo way of Ambes Bay, dung and chilling to the base. The tip of her 0982051

She walked along the way plated sidewalk, por elongated shadow cast by the din strotlights.

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