CHAPTER 7: The Gift That Never Opened
Inside the Mercer house, on a polished table near the foyer, sat one unopened gift in a white box tied with a silver ribbon.
It was not the largest gift. It was not the most expensive looking. Ava had ignored it when she passed by earlier because she assumed it was another sentimental thing from her father—something handwritten, something old, something tied to her mother. Lately, those gifts made her uncomfortable. They asked her to feel too much.
Daniel noticed the box as he walked inside to change out of his soaked shirt.
For a moment, he stopped in front of it.
The ribbon was still perfect. Grace’s favorite silver. He had chosen it because Ava’s mother had once said that silver looked like moonlight and moonlight made every promise feel possible.
Inside the box was a small velvet case. Inside the case was Grace’s locket, the one she had worn on the day Ava was born. Daniel had planned to give it to Ava after the cake, along with a letter Grace wrote when she knew she might not live to see this birthday.
The envelope was marked: For Ava, when she is old enough to understand that love is not applause.
Daniel had carried that letter through three years of grief.
Tonight, he had almost handed it to a girl who laughed about humiliating him.
He touched the ribbon once, then walked past it.
Upstairs, he changed into dry clothes with slow, stiff movements. In the mirror, he saw water still dripping from his hair and a red mark forming near his elbow where it had struck the pool ledge. He flexed his hand and felt it tremble.
Not from pain.
From heartbreak.
Downstairs, voices rose and faded as parents collected their children. Cars pulled out of the driveway one by one. The music was gone. The balloon arch still stood, but without the party around it, it looked cheap and lonely.
Ava remained near the pool in her white dress, watching the night collapse.
She did not cry loudly. That would have been easier too. Instead, tears slid down her face silently while the guests left without saying goodbye. Chase avoided her eyes as his father dragged him toward the gate. Brielle’s mother apologized to Daniel’s assistant but not to Ava.
The crown on Ava’s head tilted slightly.
When the last car disappeared, the backyard was almost silent except for the pool filter and the staff gathering plates.
Ava turned toward the house.
May you like
Through the glass doors, she saw the unopened white box.
For the first time all night, she wondered what her father had actually wanted to give her.
