Page 69 of Sloane

When I woke up Saturday morning, I was a year older and officially in my late-twenties. I didn’t know how to feel about that.

I didn’t have kids or a husband, milestone measurements I analyzed every birthday.

But I had a job I enjoyed and a new boyfriend I was in love with.

Plus, I was making progress toward becoming a PT, which would mean a lot more money. My goal was by my thirty-first birthday, I’d be a full-time physical therapist with the VA. Although I may be able to make more money in private practice, I planned on staying where I was, if they’d promote me once I graduated. I loved working with veterans.

My phone dinged with a text, and I picked it up off the table to look at the screen.

Mom: My beautiful daughter! Happy birthday! Are we still on for lunch and a movie?

Me: Thank you! And yes, I’ll see you at Figurino’s at noon!

More incoming text messages and DM notifications from more friends, family, and colleagues came in, and I felt grateful that so many people cared about me. But with every beep, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed there was nothing from Sloane.

Not that I even thought that was possible since he’d never contacted me by any means other than a letter. Yet, I kept wishing for a birthday miracle.

I’d just finished getting ready for lunch when there was a knock at my front door.

I wasn’t expecting anyone so the part of me that had seen way too many Hallmark movies immediately wondered, could it be Sloane surprising me?

Scurrying toward the door, I had enough common sense to ask, “Who is it?” before just flinging it open.

“Peasley’s Posies. I have a delivery for Ashley Youngman.”

I peered through the peephole and saw a man in a delivery uniform holding a flower arrangement, so I unlocked and opened the door.

The man handed me a beautiful bouquet of roses and calla lilies that looked expensive, then pulled a device from the belt on his hip and said, “Sign here.”

I shifted the vase so I could sign with my right index finger, then said, “Hold on, let me get you a tip.”

The man waved his hand, “It’s been taken care of.” He turned to walk down the hall, calling, “Have a good day!” over his shoulder.

I closed and locked my door then set the arrangement on my counter so I could take a step back and admire how beautiful the flowers were.

The card was tucked in the center, and I plucked it from the clear plastic prongs. The envelope was sealed, which I found interesting. Normally the back flap was just tucked inside.

As I removed the cardstock, I noticed Sloane’s handwriting and my heart beat a little faster. He’d ordered these personally and had filled out the card himself!

Dear Ashley,

I’m sorry I can’t be there in person to help you celebrate your actual birthday but know I’m there in spirit.

Wishing you the best day ever, dulzura.

Love,

Sloane

When I leaned over to inhale the roses’ fragrance, I burst into tears.

The flowers were so thoughtful, but they were also a tangible reminder of Sloane. I hadn’t heard from him in almost two weeks, and even though I’d been trying to put on a brave face, I finally allowed myself to admit, I was scared for him.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ashley

I made it through finals, although I wasn’t exactly sure how.

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