EVELYN
Birthdays have always meant something special to me. Maybe because my parents made sure of it every year, without fail, they’d turn the house into a miniature fairytale, complete with a table overflowing with my favorite things.
But this year, it was different. This year, I was twenty-two. This year, I had Dave as my lover not just as my brother. And that meant my heart beat with a new kind of anticipation, one that made my steps light as I came down toward the dining room.
The scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled the air, intertwining through the warm glow of the morning sun spilling through the curtains and the large chandelier hung in the center of the dining. I caught sight of my parents standing by the table, and the moment they saw me, their voices rang in unison.
“Happy Birthday, Angel!” Dad yelled.
“Happy Birthday, Princess!” Mom yelled.
I chuckled under my breath. They never settled on one name. I still wondered why they didn’t name me either of the two if they loved
