I bent down and placed a small chocolate cake on the ground, just big enough for a candle. Mark knelt beside me and gently set down a photo of Lily.

She was grinning wide, wearing the same plastic tiara I had seen months ago.

My chest tightened, but not in pain—in love. For a girl I never knew, but now carried in my heart.

We stayed for a while in silence, then drove to a quiet diner just outside town. The place had checkered floors and warm coffee.

We shared a slice of apple pie at the corner booth. The same one where people came to begin again.

Mark reached into his coat pocket and handed me a small, carefully wrapped box.
“It’s for your birthday,” he said.

I opened it slowly. Inside was a gold necklace with a tiny pendant shaped like a lily.

My eyes watered. “It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice barely holding.

“I’ll never miss another one,” he said.

“I know,” I whispered, reaching for his hand.

Because now, we didn’t celebrate just one life. We honored two.

And the best part—we did it together.