44. Cameron
Cameron
I’ve never been one to make a big deal about my birthday.
Growing up, they were fun—mostly because it was the one day a year I could get away with as much trouble as I wanted, and nobody got too mad at me for it. But as I got older, birthdays just became another reminder that was pushed down my throat.
Another year I made it.
Another year wondering if I’d get another.
Another year begging for more years.
And today, even though I’d rather spend my birthday doing anything else, I’m stuck at the hospital getting poked, scanned, and drained like an experiment.
The only thing making it bearable, as always, is Gabrielle.
She woke me up in the best possible way this morning—hot chocolate in bed, homemade, maybe a little burnt, breakfast, and some alone time cuddled up in the apartment, just enjoying each other before a day full of doctor appointments.
She makes all of this easier. She always has, so that’s no surprise. She’s who I lean on when the days get too dark. The same way she used to do with me when we were kids.
The appointment goes smoothly, and once I’m cleared to go, I drive us home, my hand wrapped tightly around hers on the center console.
“I have a gift for you back at home,” she tells me, squeezing my hand.
I glance at her and smirk. “A gift, huh?”
“Yes, a gift.”
I bring her hand up to my lips, pressing a slow kiss to her knuckles. “This gift you mention—any chance it involves you under my sheets?”
Gabrielle shakes her head, laughing. “Did you not get enough this morning?”
“Gab,” I say, leveling her with a look. “I could literally never get enough of you if I tried.”
She leans over, pressing a kiss to my cheek, and I feel that kiss everywhere. On my skin, on my heart, and in my soul.
We pull up to my place, and she unbuckles her seatbelt, giving me a knowing look. “Come on,” she says.
* * *
“SURPRISE!”
The room explodes with cheers, streamers, and the overwhelming smell of food, cake, and whatever liquor I know Wes conjured up in that punch bowl I see in the kitchen.
I blink, completely caught off guard.
Gabrielle just smiles beside me, beaming with pride as everyone I love—my parents, her mom, Wes, Kinsley, people from the hospital—all stand in my living room, with smiles and laughter filling the space.
I turn to her, stunned. “You did this?”
She bites her lip, smiling up at me. “Happy birthday, babe.”
I don’t think about who’s around. I just pull her in, kissing her.
I was feeling tired before, but in a matter of seconds, that feeling is gone. This—this is exactly what I needed.
* * *
The night has been perfect.
After I get through the embarrassment of people singing to me, enduring Wes’s terrible speech about me being the “most annoying best friend he’s ever had,” and eating way too much cake, Gabrielle disappears for a second and then comes back with a wrapped box, holding it out to me.
“I have something for you,” she says.
I take the box, eyes flicking up to her. “It’s not lingerie, is it? This could get a little awkward with my parents sitting right over there.”
She laughs, cheeks turning red. “Just open it.”
I tear off the wrapping and lift the lid—and freeze.
Inside is a quilt.
But not just any quilt.
It’s made of hospital gowns, blankets, old clothing, and scraps of fabric—pieces of things that hold every memory of our childhood.
The pink blanket I was embarrassingly attached to when I was little, that my mom must have given her.
The sleeve from the sweater Gabrielle used to wear every single day in the hospital.
The corner of the superhero pillowcase I used to bring to every single chemo session—all pieces of our past, stitched together.
I swallow hard, my throat tightening up.
Gabrielle’s watching me carefully. “I, um… I had to get some stuff from your mom. I tracked down what I could. I just—” She shrugs, her voice soft. “I wanted you to have something that reminds you of how strong you are. Of everything you’ve already survived and how far you’ve come.”
I stare at the quilt, my jaw locking as I try to keep it together. “This is amazing, Gabrielle. I can’t believe you took the time to put something like this all together.”
Wes, of course, chooses this moment to ruin it.
“Oh,” he says, grinning. “Are you gonna cry?”
I snap out of it, glaring at him. “Shut up.”
Wes then reaches over to the table, grabbing something and tossing it onto my lap.
Another box.
I furrow my brows. “What is this?”
Wes just smirks. “Had to top your girls’ present, remind you who loves you more.”
I roll my eyes, opening it—
And then everything stops.
Inside is a donor match confirmation letter.
Wes is a match.
My brain short-circuits as I look up at him. “You…you did this?”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I had them run my blood a couple of weeks ago.”
I can’t even process it. “You didn’t tell anyone?”
He sighs. “I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up if I wasn’t a match. But I am. So—” He grins. “Guess you’re gonna be stuck with me forever.”
The room is dead silent, like everyone is trying to wrap their heads around what just happened.
I shake my head. “Wes, you really don’t have to—”
He glares at me. “Cam. You don’t get to argue about this. You’re my best friend. I can’t let you go that easily. I need someone to pick on for at least another fifty years.”
I let out a breath, shaking my head before standing up and pulling him into a hug.
“Alright…alright,” he grumbles. “Don’t get all sappy, okay…”
I laugh, shaking my head.
By the time the night winds down and everyone leaves, Gabrielle pulls me toward the bedroom, saying she has one more surprise.
I grin, my hands sliding down to her hips. “Oh yeah?” I murmur. “What kind of surprise are we talking about?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Just shut up and look.”
She lifts her shirt slightly, tugging her leggings down just enough to reveal a small EKG heartbeat inked right below her hip bone.
I freeze, just staring.
She meets my eyes, smiling. “It’s yours.”She runs a hand over it softly. “No matter what happens, Cam…I’ll always have my favorite part of you with me.”
I slowly drop to my knees in front of her, my hands gently sliding under her shirt as I press my lips to the ink.
“Gabrielle,” I whisper against her skin.
The heart of this girl amazes me.
She shivers under my touch, fingers sinking into my neck as I trail slow kisses over the tattoo before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes.
“I love you:”
She swallows, brushing my jaw with her fingers. “I love you too, Cam.”
And then I stand, backing her up against the bed. “I hope you didn’t think this would be the last gift I’d be expecting tonight.”