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60

After multiple weeks filled with homework, cheerleading practice, and countless away games, the arrival of a 5-day break brings me immense relief.

Blake hasn't had a nightmare since Bella's birthday, and I am so happy for him. His panic attacks still happen every so often– we're already on the third Harry Potter book. But I know they will continue to lessen with time. 

I smile as I look at Blake in the kitchen and see him try to sneak a little bit of whipped cream off of the pumpkin pie in front of him with his finger, reminding me of how the day of Bella's birthday ended. 

"It's okay, just breathe," I whispered to Blake, reassuring him as I stood by his side, guiding him through yet another panic attack, the third one he had experienced that day. The sun was setting and I still hadn't left the house all day, calling to tell Janet and Coach Wilson that Blake and I were both deathly ill. 

Blake shook his head, his tear-stained face reflecting the pain that plagued him throughout the day. It was then that I made up my mind—I had to find a new way to help him, something beyond my repetitive assurances that things would be alright and to just breathe. I couldn't bear witnessing his suffering any longer.

Once he was more grounded and his breathing steadied, I told him I had to go out and would be right back. He didn't want me to leave at first but I reassured him that I would only be gone for twenty minutes and to call me if he gets worse again. 

At the store I carefully selected the items I wanted, spending a little longer than twenty minutes in there but only because I wanted everything to be perfect. 

Once I had all my items I checked out and sped back to our house, desperate to get back to Blake.

I walked back into the house and found him sleeping in bed again and I prayed that when he woke up this time he would be nightmare free. Luckily he was, and by the time he did wake up, I had everything set up exactly how I wanted it. 

I felt extremely nervous as he walked into the kitchen and observed the few things I bought. 

"Why is there a pink cake on the table?" he asked in a sleepy, slightly slurred voice, likely a result of the whiskey he had likely consumed upon waking.

"Take a closer look," I replied, my lip caught between my teeth. Anxiety courses through me and I hoped that my idea wouldn't backfire.

Blake came closer and his eyebrows furrowed when he looked down at the cake, and his features softened once he noticed the writing on it in pink icing. 

"You got Bella a birthday cake?" he asked me, layers of both confusion and gratitude behind his voice.

I nodded. "I hope you like it... I don't know, I just thought it might help. You told me this morning that Bella didn't get to reach the birthday of her favorite number, but that isn't true. It's still her birthday and we can still celebrate that for her."

I knew that pretending like today was any other day or Blake simply drinking his way through it wouldn't do anything to benefit him. I knew it would be tough, but he had to acknowledge it and let himself feel the weight of its significance. 

Blake wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and gazed up at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips for the first time that day. 

"Thank you, Sunshine," he told me shakily, reaching out to give my hand a little squeeze. 

"I also got you this," I told him, handing him the leather-covered journal that I found in the office supply aisle at the store.

"What's this?"