“Happy Birthday, sweetheart!”
Emerson giggled excitedly as she tried to keep her eyes open. She had just woken up from sleep and the room was too bright for her sleepy eyes. “Thanks, mom.”
“These are for you and there’s someone that wants to see you out in the living room,” Freya said, handing her the bouquet of roses. “These are from your father,” she added when Emerson wouldn’t budge.
She grabbed the bouquet as she smiled. “They’re beautiful,” she commented, sniffing the fresh picked flowers. “And who is in the living room, if I may ask.” She had an empty vase in her room. She unwrapped the roses and filled the vase with it.
“It’s not Damon and hurry up. He doesn’t have all day to waste.” Freya left the room.
Emerson breaths out as she grabbed her robe and headed to the bathroom
