Her lips pull up into a smile thatās softer than silk, gazing over at Jesse whoās sticking multi-colored candles into a cake, ā Thanks. ā
Jesse burrows a thirty-fourth candle into white vanilla frosting and funfetti flavored cake hidden beneath it, then resting his hands at either side of his self made confection. The two of them look down at it sitting on the counter, partially reflecting on another year of her life passing, and another one spent together in the brief silence that passes before she realizes something is missing. Ā When she notices it, Jade reaches over and grabs another yellow candle, gently driving it into the cake right next to the āAā in āHAPPY BIRTHDAYā. Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā You forgot, one more for good luck. ā Her words are spoken in a playful tone, the grin on her face not faltering for even a split second.
Year after year Jadeās had that same boxed cake, adorned with the same colorful candles, the same person sitting across from her and lighting them inside of the same Alaskan house. It hasnāt always been perfect, but as long as heās there with her Jade wouldnāt Ā have it any other way. Together, they light each of the candles.
Jesse sings her a soft and low birthday song, then telling her to make a wish as the fire burning atop of the candles illuminates their faces in the low lit kitchen. She thinks for a second, but Jade already knows exactly what sheās going to wish for, itās what she wishes for every year. Peace. For her, for Jesse, Ā even for her father and everyone who is still haunted by the ghost of Heisenberg like they are. Nowadays, she canāt think of much else to wish for. Itās the one thing left she wants and knows ā or hopes is still somehow possible.
Jade blows out the candles and as the light that came from them is snuffed out she whispers anā I love you, ā so quiet she wasnāt completely sure if Jesse could have heard it.