Time flies, and I spend most of the day in the same way I always do—doing nothing, just waiting for the evening. But once Theo comes home, I'll prepare a big feast for him. It's a tradition in my family to cook spaghetti for a loved one on their birthday, and today, I'm making his favorite. I know Darian would be too busy with his meeting to cook for me, so I'll carry on the tradition for our son.
There was one year back when Darian tried to cook spaghetti for me on my birthday. He had no idea what he was doing, and the spaghetti ended up burnt and crispy. But I loved that he tried. It's one of the memories I cherish—one of the few moments I felt like he really cared.
So, today, I'll make spaghetti for Theo. It's his favorite dish, and I love watching his face light up when he eats it. It reminds me of my own childhood, when my mother cooked spaghetti for me. I miss her so much—sometimes, I wish I could visit her, but Darian won't allow it. I wish you were here, Mom. I need you.
Later That Night:
As the door opened, I heard Theo's voice. "Mommy, I'm home!" His excitement was infectious, and I felt my heart lift.
"Theo, I made you spaghetti," I said, smiling as he ran toward me.
"Thank you, Mom!" he said, his eyes bright.
"But where's Dad?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"He's going to be late. He has a meeting tonight," I explained.
Theo looked a little disappointed, but I quickly tried to ease his worries. "Don't be sad. I'm sure he'll come home soon, but for now, let's enjoy our dinner."
He nodded, forcing a small smile. "Okay."
As we ate, Theo spoke up again. "Mom, maybe next time, could you teach me how to cook spaghetti?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because I want to make it for you on your birthday. Dad is always too busy, and I want to do it for you," he said, his little voice filled with sincerity.
My heart melted. "Okay, sweetheart. I'd love that," I said, wiping away a tear. "Let's eat."