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21. Cake

Stephen, carefully lighting the candles on the cake, spoke with a touch of warmth, "Your favorite cake."

Delilah's demeanor had shifted, reverting to her usual self. She found herself wondering why he even bothered with the birthday celebration. Folding her hands, she turned away, seemingly unmoved by his efforts.

Stephen's patience wore thin as he implored, "Come here and cut the cake, Delilah."

Yet she remained resolute, her gaze still averted. "I won't."

Exasperation tinged his voice. "What the...! Why?" Stephen demanded, frustration lacing his words. "Delilah, do you even realize I arranged all of this, despite knowing I have an early morning meeting tomorrow? I don't expect gratitude, but at least cut the cake. What's gotten into you?"

Delilah's response was unwavering. "Nothing's wrong with me, Stephen. The problem lies with you. Why did you even bother doing all this? I never asked for a birthday celebration. I remember a time when I wished for such gestures from you, but you n
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