"Happy birthday, Cody!"
Millie beamed, her cheeks glowing with excitement as she handed Cody a small, hand-decorated card and a neatly wrapped box. Inside was a homemade chocolate cake, crowned with blue icing that read, Happy Birthday, Sweetness. Cody's lips curved into a quiet smile—the kind that crept in when someone does something just for you, even when you didn't ask for it.
"Thanks, Mills... Ooh, chocolate cake. My favourite!"
"Wait... that's not all" Millie said, eyes sparkling.
She rummaged through her backpack with a mischievous grin, pulling out a blue number 17 badge with triumphant flair. Cody's smile instantly faltered.
"No. Absolutely not."
"Yes."
"Millie... no."
"Yes!" she giggled. "Come on, Cody, you're only seventeen once. Please? For me?"
He sighed, head bowed like a man accepting defeat at the hands of a far more charming opponent. Millie stepped forward, pinning the badge to his jumper with exaggerated care. She stepped back, admiring him with mock seriousness before leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.
"See? You look adorable."
"Nobody wears birthday badges anymore... especially not guys."
"Exactly why you should. Stand there, let me get a picture."
His cheeks reddened as Millie pulled out her phone, backing up to snap a few candid shots. Cody held the cake box awkwardly, his eyes flickering as a few cheerleaders passed by, chuckling at the badge and offering cheerful "Happy birthdays." to him. He smiled back stiffly, then opened his locker to carefully store the cake, Millie now beside him, fingers slipping into his as they walked to class.
"So, what's the plan for tonight?" she asked. "You still coming over? My dad's working late, I can make us something—anything you want, birthday boy."
"Yes, please." Cody said with a grin. "My family wants to do presents at home. No party, though. I begged. You know me... I hate the attention. But I'll definitely come over after."
Later, after the school bell rang and the day faded into dusk, Cody walked home—badge still stuck to his jumper, cake in hand. He might've hated the spotlight, but if it made Millie happy, he'd wear the badge proudly, even if it felt like dying a little inside.
When he opened the front door, he was hit by the sight of blue balloons and a cascade of wrapped gifts crowding the hallway. Maria, the family's longtime housekeeper, was still blowing up the last balloon when she spotted him.
"Ah! Happy seventeenth birthday, Cody!" she chirped, standing up. "Your parents and siblings are in the garden. Do you want me to take that?"
"Thanks, Mariah."
He handed her the cake box and dropped his backpack by the stairs, then made his way to the backyard. His steps slowed as he reached the patio and saw the garden transformed—streamers, twinkling lights, a decorated table, even a massive "Happy Birthday" sign. His mother squealed with delight and ran to him, cupping his face and planting loud kisses on both cheeks. He squirmed. He knew she did it for show.
"There you are! The birthday boy himself!"
Cody had always felt a little detached from his parents. As the second-born and first son, he had grown used to being somewhere between center stage and backstage. Maria had raised most of them—Harper, Aura, Jackson. Camila and Thomas had always been working, too busy for milestones. He'd noticed early on how absent they became, and though Camila sometimes tried to make up for it, Cody suspected it had more to do with appearances than affection.
Still, he smiled politely, letting himself be guided into the garden where relatives sipped wine and children dashed between tables. His Aunt Julia could be heard scolding her twins while balancing a glass of prosecco, her voice shrill in the breeze.
"Cody! My goodness, look at you—so tall and handsome. How does seventeen feel?"
He turned and found himself face-to-face with Cece—his sharp-tongued, high-society grandmother. She'd always had a secret soft spot for him. Harriet was somewhat her pride, of course, but Cody? She liked him. For reasons unknown, she seemed to have taken a disliking to Harper and Jackson, but that was nothing new in this family. Perhaps Cody reminded her of someone. Or perhaps she admired his quiet maturity.
She smiled and sat him at a table, launching into conversation as though no time had passed since their last tea.
Cody eased into the high-backed chair beneath the dappled shade of the garden's ancient oak. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, casting a patchwork of light and shadow over Cece's sharp features as she settled opposite him with a delicate cup of tea. The scent of jasmine from the blooming vines mingled with the soft murmur of relatives laughing nearby, but here, in this moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them.
"So." Cece began, her voice smooth but carrying that unmistakable edge of curiosity and command. "How's school treating you? I hear you're keeping your head down and your grades up."
Cody allowed a small, wry smile. "It's busy. A lot going on, but I'm managing."
"Of course you are. You've always had a mind for responsibility. You remind me so much of your grandfather in that way." Her eyes softened ever so slightly, the rare warmth reserved just for him. "I'm proud of you, Cody."
He met her gaze, feeling the weight of years and unspoken expectations. "Thanks, Grandma."
A brief silence settled between them, filled only by the soft clinking of her teacup as she lifted it to her lips. Then she leaned in, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret.
"And Millie... you two have been together for a while now?"
Cody nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Since junior year. It's been good. She's been there through everything."
Cece's eyes glimmered with something like approval, but also calculation. "Ah yes, Millie is a lovely girl. Bright, determined. I can see why you care for her." She paused, steeping her fingers thoughtfully.
"But you do realise she comes from... a complicated background. Her mother's disappearance, her living with her father — it's far from the kind of stability this family is used to."
Cody's smile faded just a touch, but he held her gaze steadily. "I know her story. It's not perfect. But she's real. And she's been nothing but good to me."
Cece's expression softened further, but there was a guardedness beneath it — a subtle wariness shaped by years of maintaining the family's reputation and carefully weighing alliances.
"You're a smart boy, Cody. You know what's at stake when you become part of a family like ours. I won't lie and say it's easy, especially for someone from outside our world."
He nodded, feeling the familiar tug of conflict. "I get it, Grandma. I do. But I'm not looking for easy or perfect. I want someone honest. Someone who makes me feel like I'm not just another piece on a chessboard."
Her eyes flickered with a mixture of respect and a hint of melancholy. "That's why I don't stand in your way. You have my blessing — but I want you to be careful. Millie's past... it can bring challenges. People will talk. And you know how ruthless this world can be."
Cody's jaw tightened. "I'm used to that. Not just from outside — even from within the family."
A long silence hung between them. Cece's lips pressed into a thin line before she finally spoke, voice quieter, tinged with something almost like regret. "I've lived long enough to know how fragile legacies are. Sometimes protecting them means making difficult choices — choices that aren't popular or even fair."
Cody exhaled slowly, the ache of understanding mingling with frustration. "I don't want to make your life harder, Grandma. I just want to be honest, and I want my family to be honest, too. Millie's part of my life, and I want her to be part of this family too. Even if that makes things messy."
Cece reached across the table, covering his hand with her own, her touch surprisingly warm. "You have a good heart, Cody. That's why I trust you to navigate it. Just promise me you'll look after yourself — and her."
He squeezed her hand in return, feeling the steady anchor of their bond. "I will. I promise."
As the sounds of the garden rose again around them — laughter, distant music, the clinking of glasses — Cody felt the complicated mix of love and tension that came with family. He loved Cece fiercely, but he wouldn't let the cracks in her loyalty to the others go unnoticed. Not anymore.