. . . ELEANOR “Happy birthday to you… happy birthday to you… happy birthday, dear Dante… happy birthday to you.” My voice was soft but filled with genuine affection, and Dante couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter in his chest. He had always known Eleanor to be strong, fierce, and independent, but this side of her—soft, loving, and thoughtful—was something else entirely. It touched a place deep within him, a place he didn’t even know existed. Once the song ended, we both laughed, and I picked up a small piece of cake with my fingers, holding it up to Dante’s lips. He leaned forward, taking the cake into his mouth, his gaze never leaving mine. The sweetness of the cake mixed with the sweetness of the moment, and he felt a rush of warmth spread through him. “Delicious,” he mu

