NOAH
For 14 years now, I've been celebrating my birthday in July, even though I was actually born in September. The day my parents took me from the orphanage became my real birthday. Today I turned 27, and like all my birthdays, this day is grand.
Noise, music, alcohol, laughter... people swirling around me as if my life is perfect. But the truth is, I feel an emptiness inside that I can't fill.
For the past few days, Harry—my best friend—hasn't been leaving me alone.
"I'm preparing a grand surprise for you," he keeps telling me over and over.
I know him well. It's probably the same thing as every year—women.
In the evening, we gathered at the bar of the best hotel in the city. I was already drunk when Harry came up to me, slapped my shoulder, and said:
"Go upstairs. Your gift is waiting for you in the room."
I laughed.
"Harry, every year the same thing. Don't you have enough imagination to come up with something new?"
"This is different. Your gift costs $100,000."
"What? You're buying me a car? How did you even get it into the room?" I laughed.
"No," he shook his head. "I'm giving you a girl."
"Are you insane? You're going to pay $100,000 for a woman when any woman would sleep with me for free?"
He leaned closer and whispered:
"This is different. No one's been with her before you."
For a few seconds, I couldn't say anything—it intrigued me.
"Go," he said, handing me the room key.
I was standing at the door when it opened from the inside. As I stepped in, the girl started backing away.
"Hi," I smiled, closing the door behind me as I looked her over.
She headed toward the door.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"I think I got the wrong room," she replied.
"I don't think so," I said, standing in front of the door so she couldn't leave.
She looked confused and nervous. I slowly stepped closer, studying her face... and suddenly froze.
"Have we met before?" I asked.
"No," she answered quickly.
For a few seconds, I just stared at her.
Those eyes... that face...
"Impossible... I must be imagining things. I drank too much," I muttered.
I looked at her again. She looks so much like someone I haven't seen in 14 years. Memories suddenly flooded my mind. Could the world really be this small?
"Take it off," I said suddenly. I need to be sure.
She didn't move, as if she hadn't heard me.
"Take it off," I repeated more firmly.
She took off her coat, but that wasn't enough. I turned her around with one hand. Her dress covered her back—I slid the straps off her shoulders and it fell completely, leaving her standing in front of me in only her underwear. She covered her chest with her hands, but I wasn't interested in her body right now.
I was looking at her back.
At the spot where she had a mole... and beside it, a faint scar.
My heart started pounding.
I remembered that day. She fell off the swing. Landed on her back against a rock. I was there.
It's really her.
I slowly touched that spot. She flinched. I turned her toward me to see her face again, but her head was lowered—she wasn't looking at me.
"What's your name?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
"Fine. Get dressed," I said, dropping into the armchair. I think I'm having trouble breathing.
She picked up the dress from the floor and put it back on.
"Sit," I told her, pointing at the chair in front of me.
"What's your name?"
"Elise."
"Elise..." I repeated. A few seconds of silence passed. "I'm Noah."
"Do you want something to drink?"
"No," she answered shortly.
"What are you doing here, Elise?" I asked, staring at her again.
She didn't answer. She clearly hadn't expected that question.
"I should go," she said, standing up and looking around as if searching for something.
"Sit down. You're not going anywhere until morning."
She carefully sat back down, not looking at me, staring at the floor, visibly uncomfortable. I kept staring at her, unable to believe it. Memories of our childhood and the few years we spent together came rushing back.
I was 8 when my biological mother left me at the orphanage. After my father died, she remarried a few years later and had another child. I became an extra burden to the family. That's how I ended up there.
A few months later, they brought in a 2-year-old girl—blonde, with big green eyes—who cried every day, looking for her mother. I tried to comfort her and played with her every day. She grew very attached to me. I saw her as my own little sister.
We spent 4 years together in the orphanage.
I was 13 when my parents adopted me. It was very hard to leave Elise. When I left, I promised I would visit often... but I didn't keep that promise.
My parents were very rich. I had everything I could wish for. We lived abroad for several years. Spoiled by my new life, I forgot the orphanage—and its residents.
And now, all those memories have come back at once. I never thought I would see her again.
But now she's here. Sitting in front of me.
I don't want to believe this is how she lives.
She still won't look at me. She's staring somewhere far away, lost in thought. I keep looking at her, unable to believe she's really here. She feels my gaze and shifts uncomfortably. I have so many questions to ask... but I don't know where to start.
"Is this how you make a living?" I blurt out suddenly. I didn't mean for it to sound so harsh, but now I can't take it back.
She looked at me, but didn't answer. After a few seconds, she said:
"Not everyone is born into a golden cradle."
She looked straight into my eyes.
And for the first time in my life... I didn't know what to say.
Harry really did pull off a grand surprise.