Chapter 615

　　Tabitha's POV 　　I whipped my head towards the door and called out, "What's up?" 　　Wilmot's always been the picture of propriety. Why would he barge in on my rest time? 　　"Uh... Ms. Hartley, did you already hit the hay? Sorry to bug you." 　　I figured I hadn't dozed off yet, so I got up, threw on a jacket, and shuffled to the door in my slippers. 　　I yanked the door open and started, "I..." 　　But my words died in my throat when I saw what was in front of me. 　　There was Wilmot, holding a cake with candles sticking out. 　　The candlelight bathed his honest face, the flame twinkling in his eyes. 　　"Ms. Hartley, it's a bit late, I know, but birthdays? They're pretty darn important. Can't let 'em slip by." 　　It was exactly eleven fifty-nine. 　　The cake looked like it was made by him. 　　There was still flour and cream smeared on his face and clothes, not quite cleaned up yet. 　　"Thanks," I said, feeling a warmth in my chest that was pure gratitude. 　　"It's almost midnight. Ms. Hartley, make