Ivy settled down beside him, her heart still fluttering with excitement, the warmth in her cheeks giving her away. "Happy birthday, Dr. Ludwig," she said softly. "May your days be filled with joy, may happiness find you often, and may every moment be blessed. I hope you have a wonderful year ahead, and that life goes smoothly for you."
Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at the man she loved, and after a brief pause she couldn’t help but add, “And… thank you, Dr. Ludwig. Meeting you has been the greatest gift fate could ever give me.”
Jamison looked at her, a rush of emotion swelling inside him. Love washed over him so fiercely it made his eyes sting.
He leaned in to kiss her, but Ivy, mindful of the people around them, quickly held him back.
He just laughed and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips anyway. "Thank you, Ivy.”
“You’re welcome.” Ivy’s smile grew, her face turning even redder. She glanced at her watch and suddenly exclaimed, “Oh! It’s almost midnight–you have to take a bite before your birthday’s over!”
Jamison chuckled and quickly dug into his noodles.
The two of them, both strikingly attractive and impeccably dressed, looked wildly out of place sitting at a humble sidewalk café. Yet as the night deepened and the cold set in, the way they gazed at each other–so completely absorbed, so full of tenderness–made the scene feel impossibly beautiful, something you’d envy just passing by.
“Here, try some–the beef is delicious,” Jamison said, holding out his fork to offer her a bite.
Ivy laughed and accepted it. "The owner was so nice–she gave us extra beef just because.”
Jamison teased, “Maybe she was charmed by your pretty face.”
“Oh, please. More likely it was your good looks.”
“Well, both are true,” he grinned.
As Jamison finished up his meal, Ivy suddenly stood. “I almost forgot–I need to pay.”
She hurried inside the small diner, phone in hand, ready to scan the payment code. But the owner was quicker, whisking the code out of sight.
“Come back anytime, dear. Tonight’s on the house. Happy birthday to your husband,” the woman said warmly.
The diner had been around for years; the owner understood how hard doctors worked, pulling late nights and long shifts. A little gesture of kindness on such a sweet occasion felt just right.
“I can’t, you work so hard for your living,” Ivy insisted.
Just then, the owner’s husband came out, waving them off. “Go on, get home! We’re closing up.” He stifled a yawn for emphasis.
Not wanting to press further, Ivy returned to Jamison. “Did you bring any cash?”
“Nope.”
“Me neither…”
Digital payments had made cash almost obsolete; neither of them could remember the last time they’d carried any.
Jamison realized the owners wouldn’t accept payment and, a thought striking him, suddenly called Ivy to the car, his expression mysteriously triumphant.
She followed, curious, “You have a plan?”
“Maybe. Let’s try something.” Jamison pulled out his phone, opened his photo gallery, and scrolled to a picture.
“You took a photo of me?” Ivy gasped, surprised.
“It was a perfect moment–I wanted to save it,” he explained with a smile.
He zoomed in on the picture, and sure enough, the café’s payment code was visible in the background. With his high-end phone, the photo was sharp as a professional shot, even when blown up.
“Try scanning it.”
“Wow…” Ivy was amazed, quickly opening her payment app and scanning the code.
Beep.
“It worked!” she exclaimed, thrilled, and promptly sent over five hundred dollars as a thank you.
Back inside the café, the owners were momentarily stunned when they heard the payment notification.
The owner’s wife hurried out, waving after them. “Hey! That’s too much!” she called.
But the luxury car was already pulling away, leaving nothing behind but a lingering warmth in the chilly night–the kind that comes from genuine kindness, freely given and received.
They reached home in no time.
As Ivy got out and closed the car door, Jamison called after her.
“What is it?”
“There’s something in the trunk–could you help me carry it?” he asked.
Ivy retraced her steps.
Inside the open trunk, a row of high-end gift boxes was neatly arranged, each one bearing the logo of a famous luxury brand.
She stared, stunned. “What’s all this?”
Jamison smiled. “Don’t envy Naylor Wilson’s gifts to Katrina Lester. Whatever she gets, you’ll have too–double, even.”
Ivy was speechless.
“That’s not…I mean, it’s your birthday. Why are you giving me so many presents? What will you do when it’s my birthday?” she finally managed, half laughing, half exasperated.
Jamison just grinned. “We’ll see when the time comes.”
The two of them hauled the mountain of luxury bags upstairs.
It was past midnight by the time they got inside, but Jamison insisted she open them.
“Keep whatever you like–anything you don’t, we can return or exchange.”
Ivy shook her head. “No need. With these brands, I doubt I’ll be disappointed.”
Luxury goods, after all, always had value–she’d never lose out.
Seeing her calm reaction, Jamison worried she might not actually like the gifts. He reached out, pulling her gently into his lap.
“Tell me what do you really like? Jewelry? Art?”
Ivy, realizing his concern, nestled into his arms and explained softly, “There isn’t a woman alive who doesn’t love bags, shoes, and dresses. I love everything you gave me–but it’s your birthday. You should be the one getting presents.”
As she spoke, she brought her hand out from behind her back, holding a small velvet box between her fingers.