The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 430

"Make a wish, Sloane," Josh said softly.

Sloane clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and remained silent for a few seconds before opening them and blowing out the candle. Her wish was simple: to stay healthy and graduate smoothly.

Josh cut the cake in two, placing the slice with the most strawberries right in front of her.

"You used to do this when we were kids. You always snagged the piece with the most strawberries."

"Hahaha, did I? Don't tell me you're still holding a grudge over that!"

Sloane scooped a piece of cake into her mouth. As the frosting melted on her tongue, she narrowed her eyes happily and smiled. "But honestly, Josh, your memory is insane. How do you remember things I've completely forgotten?"

"I remember everything about you." Josh kept his head down as he spoke, lightly tracing his fork against his plate, his tone sounding deceptively casual.

Then, he began recounting stories from their childhood.

The year she turned nine, her mother bought a huge cake and cooked an absolute feast.

She had invited a bunch of kids over. When her mother handed out the slices, she specifically gave Josh a massive piece. He still remembered how incredibly sweet it tasted.

But the very next year... her mother passed away.

On her birthday that year, there was no celebration. No one even remembered. She stood alone on the rooftop, hugging a cello, while Josh watched her from a distance...

Then came her eighteenth birthday, right after she received her acceptance letter to Riverdale University.

No one congratulated her, so Josh bought her a fountain pen. He had carved the words 'Academic Success' onto the cap with a pocket knife himself.

"Do you still have that pen?" Josh asked suddenly.

"Of course I do." Sloane wiped a smudge of frosting from her mouth, smiling. "It's sitting at home. I never threw it away. That was the only college gift I ever got."

"You—"

Before Sloane could finish, Josh pulled the elegant little box from his pocket.

The deep blue velvet caught the candlelight, shimmering softly. He balanced the box in one hand, his thumb resting gently on the edge of the lid, as if holding down a secret he had kept for far too long and could no longer contain.

The lid popped open.

Inside lay a necklace. The chain was fine, silver-white metal, and the pendant was a meticulously polished obsidian stone. It retained its natural, teardrop-like curve.

The candlelight danced across it, the stone absorbing the glow and refracting it off invisible facets, looking as though a tiny, dark flame burned deep within.

"This necklace," Josh's voice trembled slightly, but every word felt like it had been warmed in his palm for a lifetime before being spoken, gentle and profound.

"It's carved from obsidian mined from the volcanic rocks near Antarctica. When I was on an expedition down there, I found it on a small island near the Drake Passage. It's... been with me for years. It's the thing I cherish most in this world."