For all of Timothy's previous birthdays, I was the one who prepared every dish and baked his birthday cake myself.Back then, I would spend the entire day bustling about, just for that moment at night when he blew out the candles and made his wish.So, this year, Laura did the same as always. She got everything ready so I could get to work the next day.I looked at the ingredients piled high on the kitchen counter and said indifferently, "You guys can handle it. I'm a bit tired."She hesitated and said apologetically, "But… I'm worried the cake won't meet Mr. Grant's standards if I make it. You're the expert when it comes to baking.""Just buy one from a bakery, then." I brushed her off and headed to the study to look for Timothy.He was at his computer, working. He wore glasses whenever he was on the computer, which made him look even more refined. He was cool and elegant, with a touch of scholarly charm.I used to love seeing him so focused and serious, and I couldn't help but
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