Would you rather have a cake that’s velvety and moist or one that’s light and airy?”

At the sound of her voice, Caleb looks up from the pathophysiology textbook he’s reading at the dining table. He’s back in school to get a degree in occupational therapy—a career that appeals to him far more than being an MD ever did.

Penny leans against the kitchen counter, looking beautiful in sweatpants with her curly hair pulled into a loose bun. It’s his birthday today, and she’s baking him a cake. He can’t even remember the last time he had a cake on his birthday. Elementary school, maybe, when they were living in San Antonio.

He considers her question and finds he has no preference, other than the fact that he likes the sound of the word velvety on her lips.

“Both?” he ventures.

It’s the wrong answer, he discovers when she lets out an adorable little huff of vexation. “They’re mutually exclusive,” Penny says, absently waving a measuring cup as she speaks. “Creaming the butter and sugar together creates air bubbles that are expanded by gases from the leavening agents, producing a taller, light-textured cake. Alternatively, you can use the two-stage method to blend the butter and dry ingredients together, which allows the fats to coat the proteins, preventing gluten development for a tender, melt-in-your-mouth cake.”

Somewhere in the middle of this impromptu lesson on the chemistry of cake baking, Caleb decides he’s going to marry this woman.

The sudden intensity of his resolve leaves him a little breathless.

He’s loved her for a long time. For months, he loved her from afar, silently and without hope. He learned to live with the ache of it the way you live with a broken rib: trying not to breathe too deep or move too fast.

But now, improbably, she is standing in the kitchen of the apartment they share, it is his birthday, and he doesn’t have to pretend anymore. He is going to spend the rest of his life with her.

Penny lifts her eyebrows, obviously waiting for him to speak.

His mouth opens. “Huh?” he says eloquently.

She shakes her head fondly, and a strand of hair breaks loose and falls across her forehead. “Did you hear anything I said?”

“I got distracted somewhere in the middle.”

She brushes the flyaway curl out of her face with the back of her hand. “Where exactly did I lose you?”

“When you said the word creaming.”

He watches the blush spread up from her chest and into her cheeks. He adores that blush. Making it appear is one of his top five joys in life.

Penny’s full, pink lips press together as her eyes sparkle with amusement. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Not me,” he says. “I’m as corrigible as they come.”

He’s never proposed before, although he and his last girlfriend had negotiated an informal understanding. She would follow him when he went to medical school, and in return, one day, he would make her a doctor’s wife. It wasn’t something he wanted so much as something that was expected. Marriage, like medical school, felt like an obligation. A trap that was closing around him.

It was a relief when Heather called things off just after Christmas. He’s not sure he would have had the courage to do it himself—but he should have.

He’d already taken notice of Penny by then. He noticed her on his very first day of work at Antidote. How could he not? With her sunny demeanor and warm, friendly manner, the whole place seemed to get a thousand watts lighter as soon as she walked into it.

Everything about her was bright: her red hair, her floral dresses, her brightly colored lips and nails. He’d been living in the black and white part of The Wizard of Oz, and Penny was in full Technicolor. But his fate was truly sealed the moment she smiled. The first time he saw her lush lips curve, pinking the apples of her cheeks and making her hazel eyes shine, he was a goner.

He never used to be someone to believe in love at first sight, but he has no other explanation for it. Something in her spoke to something in him, from the very moment she walked into his life.

But he had a girlfriend. A plan that had already been laid out for him. Commitments.

He tried to ignore the unsettling new feelings Penny awoke in him. He tried to ignore her, because it was too difficult to do anything else. She represented all the things in his life he wanted but couldn’t have. Passion. Self-determination. Hope.

He started volunteering to work doubles on Mondays when he knew she came for her knitting club, so he’d be able to see her twice in one day. He couldn’t help himself. The dopamine rush he got around her was the only time he felt alive.

Now he gets to feel that rush every minute of every day. How did he ever get so lucky?

He watches Penny now as she turns her attention back to her baking, frowning over her food scale. “I feel like a chocolate cake should err on the side of density,” she decides as she reaches for the cocoa powder.

She insisted on baking a cake for his birthday. He told her it wasn’t necessary, but secretly he’s pleased. It feels like he’s had to take care of himself his whole life, so he’s still getting used to having someone in his life who wants to take care of him. He will never, ever take it for granted.

His parents aren’t exactly shining role models for marriage and family. Caleb grew up watching his father suck the joy out of every life around him while his mother performed her role with the glassy-eyed cheerfulness of a marionette. He and his brothers were raised in an emotional wasteland where empathy was nonexistent, weakness was met with cruelty, and affection was a sham. His two brothers leaned in, adopting The Colonel’s twisted ideas of masculinity and honor as they clamored for paternal approval.

Caleb never took to the indoctrination. Whether because he was the eldest, or because he’d just been born that way, he was more sensitive than his brothers, and more stubborn—to his father’s perpetual disappointment. To protect himself, Caleb grew extra-thick armor and retreated so far behind his walls that he forgot the way out.

Until Penny walked into his life and dismantled them brick by brick.

It’s still a little scary, letting himself be vulnerable. He’s a work in progress. But he’s learning, slowly, that he can expose his underbelly without being punished. That there is comfort and kindness in the world and that—improbably—he is deserving of it. That this is what unconditional love is like.

He wants the whole package now: marriage, kids, pets, a house with a white picket fence, and family vacations to Disney World. Whatever will make Penny happy, he wants to give it to her.

She looks up at him, and a little line appears between her brows. “What do you think about adding Guinness to the batter?”

“I think that sounds amazing.”

She takes a can out of the fridge and pops the top. When she’s done measuring out the quantity she needs, she waves the half-empty can at him. “You want to finish it?”

He’s supposed to be studying, but what the hell? It’s his birthday, and his best friend is baking him a cake.

He gets up from the table and wanders into their small kitchen to accept the beer. Takes a long drink as he leans back against the counter, watching Penny combine the last of the ingredients.

She fits the bowl into the stand mixer and flips it on. A loud mechanical whir fills the air. When she’s sure it’s mixing to her satisfaction, she turns back around and regards him from the opposite end of the kitchen. Her eyes narrow. “What?”

“What?” His fingers clench around the beer can and the metal lets out a small pop.

“You keep looking at me funny.”

His defenses are so worn down, he’s forgotten how to put his game face on. He takes another drink of beer. “Funny how?”

“Like you have a secret.” Her eyes narrow farther.

He sets the beer down and goes to stand in front of her, crowding her against the counter. “Not me.” He kisses the tip of her nose as his hands settle on her hips. “I’m an open book.” It’s a small lie, but one he hopes he can be forgiven for.

He tries not to think about what ifs. If George hadn’t had a heart attack in that place on that day, leaving Caleb an emotional wreck, he wouldn’t have played his hand by kissing Penny in that stairwell. She never would have known he had feelings for her. He would have gone to Mississippi and never seen her again.

He’d be living there right now, suffering through the misery of medical school for a father who would never give him the approval he craved. How long would he have lasted? Would he have knuckled under out of sheer stubbornness and lived out the rest of his life as a doctor? Or would he have crumbled under the pressure and washed out, earning even more of his father’s disgust?

He reaches up to touch Penny’s cheek. “Do you know you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known?”

She waves the compliment away, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. “Aw, go on.”

“You are.”

“No, I mean it. Go on.” The smile she flashes him is twinkly-eyed and teasing. “Keep complimenting me.”

His fingers trace the curve of her jaw. “You’re smart, you’re caring, you’re excellent in bed—”

“I was kidding.” Another exquisite blush streaks across her pale skin. “You don’t really have to keep giving me compliments.”

Too bad. He plans to spend the rest of his life complimenting her. “You do know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, right?”

She gives his thumb a gentle bite, then follows it up with a kiss. “Right back atcha.” Her eyes flick to the clock on the microwave and she twists in his grasp to shut off the mixer.

Caleb leans around her and dips a greedy finger in the chocolate batter.

“That has raw eggs in it!”

He grins and pops it in his mouth. It tastes heavenly.

She shakes her head at him. “Don’t blame me when you come down with salmonella.” When he goes in for another scoop she swats his hand. “Don’t fill up on cake batter or you won’t have room for dinner.”

They’re going out for a nice dinner tonight at a steakhouse. Candlelight, wine, the whole shebang. Then back home to eat cake before they fall into bed. Their bed. It’s Caleb’s idea of a perfect night.

Briefly, he toys with the idea of proposing over dinner tonight, right between the cocktails and the entree. Now that he’s made his decision, he wants to move on it. But he also wants to do this right. Choose his moment. Give her a ring. Make the moment special. She deserves that much, and it requires thought and careful planning.

That’s okay. He can wait. He’s not going anywhere.

Her eyes sharpen and narrow. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Looking at me funny. Do I have something on my face?”

“I don’t know. Let me check.” He takes her face in his hand, studying her carefully, and smears a streak of chocolate batter across her cheek.

Her expression melts into indulgent amusement. “Very funny.”

The thought drifts across his mind that on their wedding day, they will recreate a scene very much like this, and she will look at him in exactly this same way. He smiles. “There’s something there all right. Let me just—” He bends down and licks the cake batter from her face.

“Nice.” Her nose wrinkles. “Thanks. That’s very helpful.”

“You know me. Always trying to help.” He drags his thumb across her soft lips. “Hang on. I think there’s a little more right…” He lowers his head until his lips are just barely touching hers. “Here.”

Her eyes fall closed when he kisses her. The kitchen smells like chocolate, and the preheated oven envelops them in warmth as she sinks into his arms.

She is it for him. The love of his life. He can’t believe he almost let her go.

Her hand grips the front of his shirt as she pushes her face into his neck. Sighs. “I’m so happy right now.”

He slides one hand down her back while the other traps her hand against his heart. “Me too.”

Happy birthday to him.