60th Birthday Memes Female の小説・ストーリー

Then she kicked him right between the legs, and he fell to his knees instantly. She sat on top of him and started slapping him back and forth. Phoebe rushed over to help, but the woman shoved her straight to the ground. The woman pointed at Phoebe and yelled, "Everyone, look! This is the shameless woman who goes after someone else's man!" The bystanders pushed in even closer, all taking out their phones and snapping picture after picture of Phoebe. Phoebe was humiliated and shaking; she tried to hide her face with both hands.

It's Grandpa's birthday banquet, and yet my fiancee is working late again, missing her one chance to meet the family. My brother and his wife, still bitter about me taking the project from them, don't waste the opening. "What good is all his money when his fiancee can't even show up on a day this important? She clearly doesn't take him seriously." "That's why Archer's the smart one. He landed himself Claire Donovan, of all people. Even her throwaway gifts start at seven figures." I'm about to fire back when the familiar name stops me cold. My eyes lock onto the bracelet of dark wooden beads the butler carries in. It's identical to the one my fiancee just spent a fortune on a few days ago.

I stare at her puzzled clueless of why she was apologizing. "Why are you apologizing?" I inquire her puzzled. "For not telling you happy birthday," she said to me. My eyes widen, she wasn't the only one who forget it was my birthday, I too. "It's okay," I told her. "You are so excited about the mating season you forgot." She smiled and came over to me hugging me. I returned her hug. "Today, is my birthday," I said sadly and in an unbelievable way as I laid back down while Chloe went downstairs to prepare breakfast. I was now eighteen years old; a young adult.

They wished me in unison with whistles and hoots. Ohh fuck, I forgot, it is my birthday... I turned Seventeen today. Uhh, happy seventeenth birthday Ryley! Tbc...

"With all of six days and all the manly experience you got from your highschool boyfriend?" She shrugged. "Beats only knowing what a man looks like from biology class." "Hey." I protested. "Sorry sorry. We aren't here to talk about men. Ew. We're here to have fun." She whooped. "It's my freaking birthday." "Yes. It is." In a few days, we'll be celebrating my twentieth birthday in a decidedly different way. Gia was the party girl of our duo and I always indulged her. Dressing up and wearing ankle breaking heels for a night out. She was also down to stay indoors with me binge watching N*****x when I wanted.

And it fucking makes lots of emotions go through me. “Buon compleanno a me, buon compleanno a me, buon compleanno caro me, buon compleanno a me!” (Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear me, happy birthday to me!) She's singing, yet she sounds so sad. “Ora hai diciotto anni. Ahahah! (You're eighteen now, hahaha!)” She stifles a rather mocking laughter. She sounds like she doesn't like the fact she's eighteen… or doesn't like herself. Or…

“Look, honey, I'm sorry I forgot. You know how slammed I've been—running the church, handling your father's business. It's a lot.” I nod, forcing another smile even though it hurts my cheeks. “I get it.” She brightens suddenly, leaning forward like she's sharing a secret. “Speaking of birthdays… my fiftieth is next month, and I'm throwing the party of the century. Manhattan elite, the whole church network, every sister congregation—nobody's forgetting this one.” I let out a weak chuckle. “A lavish party, huh?” “Absolutely.” Her smile is wide, triumphant.

I asked. "Be a good wife, obviously. But first..." She trailed off with a mischievous hum. "What are you up to?" I asked, raising a brow. "You can't be a 23-year-old virgin, and there's no way you should be hooking up with a guy who's ten years older than your dad," she shot back with a cheeky grin. "It's time to have sex ... Happy birthday, bestie!”

Maya Fifteen Years Later "Happy birthday!" Bianca is holding up her glass. "The big thirty-three—only seven years until forty and your mid-life crisis!" "Not so loud!" I grit my teeth, hissing at my friend. There is lemon juice stuck on my teeth; I can taste it. "Every single soul inside this restaurant doesn't have to know my age!" Jenna and Felicia lift their cocktail glasses, smiling at me with warmth and love radiant on their faces.