Chapter 8 Chapter 8 The Gift That Found Its Way Home

Elian had been glued to his study until well past three, maybe even four in the morning, before he finally stepped out to whip up a late meal. Once everything was done, Clarissa was still fast asleep.

The bedroom was pitch dark, clearly showing she'd been out cold for a while. He quietly flicked on the bedside lamp.

Under the soft, warm light, her petite face looked hazy, almost fragile.

He sat gently down beside her and called softly, "Clarissa, hey, wake up."

She stirred, clearly annoyed at being disturbed. Her brows furrowed, and her small hand patted the blanket aimlessly, mumbling something incoherent.

Elian leaned closer, trying to catch what she was murmuring.

But instead, she suddenly rolled over, and her lips brushed lightly against his cheek.

Time just... stopped. The silence was so thick, he could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his chest.

He was thrilled-but nervous too.

It felt fragile, like reaching for the moon's reflection in water; too beautiful to last.

After a beat, he swallowed hard, then leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

Clarissa scratched her cheek with the back of her hand.

Elian called her name again, closer this time.

"Clarissa, wake up."

He gently brushed aside the messy strands of hair sticking to her face. Slowly, Clarissa started to stir, eyes fluttering open, and the first thing she saw was a ridiculously handsome face.

Wait... was she dreaming? Why was there a hot guy sitting by her bed?

"You look just like someone I know..." she mumbled drowsily, a goofy smile spreading across her face like someone deep in a fangirl fantasy.

Elian couldn't help but smile. She looked adorably ridiculous right now.

Still, he quipped, "Clarissa, I get it-you're a sucker for a pretty face. But no need to be shy about it. We're married, after all."

That snapped her right out of her daze.

She shot up in bed, smacked her own cheeks like she was trying to wake up properly.

"What are you doing in here?"

Elian chuckled. "Came to check on a certain someone who's dead to the world. If I didn't wake you now, you'd be starving later."

Clarissa fumbled for her phone at the edge of the bed. One glance, and her eyes widened-it was already past six.

"Fine, I'm getting up."

But, of course, she made no move to actually get out of bed. Still lying there, unmoved.

From the doorway, Elian turned to glance outside. The sky hadn't lit up just yet.

He asked, "Hey Clarissa, what time is it now?"

"Six twenty-five."

"You've got five minutes."

"What do you mean, five minutes?"

Clarissa finally looked up from her phone and saw Elian casually leaning against the doorframe.

He stretched a bit and said, "Four minutes now. The city lights'll flick on outside soon."

Clarissa blinked, then suddenly threw off her blanket and ran to find something to wear-she was only in a camisole dress, and it was chilly out of bed.

She hustled to the floor-to-ceiling window, sat cross-legged on the carpet, eyes fixed on the clock on her phone.

Elian silently walked over and knelt behind her, his hand tightening slightly in his pocket.

She started counting down, voice soft but excited: "Five... four... three... two... one!"

When she looked up, it wasn't just the city skyline and bridge lights that caught her eye.

A delicate pink necklace, sparkling with tiny diamonds, slipped from Elian's palm into view.

She froze.

Her heart began thudding wildly-not sure if it was the surprise or the man who gave it.

The room, though empty, was suddenly full of something she couldn't quite name.

She whispered, "What's this?"

Turning to Elian, clearly curious, but making no move to take the necklace from him.

It was literally their first day seeing each other again-where would he even find time to prep a gift?

Could it be something he bought for another woman before and just never gave her?

Seeing Elian's hesitant face only reinforced Clarissa's suspicions. She was just about to speak when he interrupted.

Elian leaned in and clasped the necklace around her neck. A sudden cool touch brushed her collarbone, making her start just a little.

The design was nothing flashy-definitely not the latest style-and it wasn't worth that much either, not even close to any of the fancy jewelry Sebastian had used to throw her way during those half-hearted attempts.

Still... for some reason, she felt it was beautiful. Special, even. Way more meaningful than anything she'd gotten before.

"Seriously though, when did you even have time to buy this?"

His fingers paused just slightly after fastening the clasp. He took a moment to smooth her hair back down, voice quiet.

"Got it a long time ago. It was supposed to be your birthday gift that year. Dropped it on the way, found it again going home, but never got the chance to give it to you."

Clarissa had run through a dozen different scenarios in her head, but she never thought... this.

A gift he'd kept all these years-how do you not forget something like that?

Wait-what year was that even?

"You mean that time you came by to bring me Plumie? You're telling me you've held onto this necklace since then? That's seriously petty," she teased, raising a brow.

Elian gave a soft smile. Back then, the necklace had cost him a decent sum.

But more than the price, it had been tied up with disappointment.

Not that she'd ever really know.

Hearing her name, their cat, Plumie, shuffled lazily into view and rubbed up against Elian's leg affectionately.

Clarissa smirked, half-laughing as she teased the cat. "Traitor. You were mine first."

A calm moment passed before Elian finally spoke again.

"Clarissa, I'm serious. I really am petty. You promised that year-you said if I gave you a birthday gift, you'd owe me one for mine. I've been keeping that receipt this whole time. You still owe me."

Her hand paused mid-air over Plumie's head. Was he for real?

Small-minded much?

She tried to remember-had she really said that?

Before she could sort through her thoughts, Elian cut in: "Stop playing, go wash up. Food's gonna get cold."

Clarissa set down the toy and dusted herself off before hurrying into the bathroom.

Over dinner, she showered Elian with praise about his cooking while her mind drifted back.

It was during senior year, some random elective where they had to jot down wishes on slips of paper.

Most classmates scribbled stuff like getting into college, making money.

Clarissa had written: [I want to get a birthday gift that actually comes from the heart.]

Her parents loved her, truly. But birthdays were always rushed affairs, the gifts too predictable, like they didn't even bother thinking about them.

She could close her eyes and guess what she'd get every time.

That's why she made that wish.

And Elian, being the most mischievous boy at the time, had peeked at her paper when she wasn't looking.

He joked, "Hey Clarissa, I'll get you a gift this year. And when it's my birthday, you better get me something too, deal?"

She hadn't taken it seriously. His birthday came after hers, anyway-if he really followed through, she'd just return the favor.

Seemed fair.

She honestly thought it was just a joke. Never figured 18-year-old Elian would mean it.

But here he was at 25, still holding on to it.

And 25-year-old Elian... had finally gotten the girl his 19-year-old self couldn't stop dreaming of.

Problem was, 18-year-old Clarissa never got that birthday present.

And 19-year-old Elian had crossed an ocean before he could give it to her.