Teenager Charlie feels confused and upset when his friends get expensive gifts, while he listens to his mom’s repeated excuses. He soon finds out that his mom has prepared 15 birthday gifts for his future. After learning the reason behind it, he understands what truly matters to him.

Charlie, a 15-year-old boy, walked out of school, his backpack hanging loosely on one shoulder. His friend Mark walked beside him.

The afternoon sun stretched shadows across the busy parking lot, filled with chatter and honking cars.

“Another test this Friday,” Mark said, breaking the silence.

Charlie groaned, his shoulders drooping.

“Oh great. Isn’t this the fourth one this week? School is so draining.”

Mark grinned. “Stop overreacting. It’s just studying. You stress out, but you always pass.”

“Yeah, sure,” Charlie muttered, glancing around the lot. His face darkened, and he frowned.

“Mom’s late again. How long do I have to wait this time?”

“Maybe she got held up,” Mark said. “Don’t be mad. At least she’s coming to get you. That’s something to appreciate.”

Charlie scowled at him. “Easy for you to say. Where’s your mom’s car? Aren’t you waiting too?”

Mark laughed softly. “Not anymore. My parents got me a car for my birthday.”

Charlie froze, his mouth hanging open.

“A car? Seriously? No wonder you’re grateful!” he snapped, jealousy dripping from his words.

Mark shrugged. “Be thankful anyway. She’s your mom. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah… see you,” Charlie mumbled, watching Mark head to the student parking lot.

A loud car horn pulled Charlie’s attention. His mom’s car approached.

With a heavy sigh, he slung his backpack higher and walked over. He opened the door, climbed in, and frowned.

Alice, his mom, gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, honey. I’m late again. Work ran over.”

“You’re always late these days,” he mumbled, staring out the window.

Alice kept her voice steady. “I said I’m sorry. Tell me about your day.”

“It sucked,” he replied bluntly. His eyes stayed fixed on the street.

“What happened?” she asked, glancing at him.

“Mark got a car for his birthday,” Charlie said.

Alice smiled, trying to cheer him up. “That’s nice. Did he offer you a ride?”

Charlie turned to her, disbelief on his face. “No. Mom, my birthday’s soon. Can you get me a car?”

Alice’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I’ve already planned your gift. Maybe a car someday, but not now.”

“Someday?” he shouted. “While everyone else drives, I’ll look like a fool?”

Alice’s voice stayed calm. “I know it’s tough, but we can’t afford a car right now.”

Charlie crossed his arms and snapped, “Then return my gift and get a car!”

“I can’t, Charlie. I’m sorry,” she said, sadness creeping into her tone.

Charlie pressed his forehead against the window. The hum of the car filled the tense silence as they drove home.

When they arrived, Alice said gently, “Dinner’s in the fridge. I need to run some errands. Love you, honey.”

“Yeah,” Charlie mumbled as he got out. He walked into the quiet house, shutting the door behind him.

Something nagged at him. His mom had acted strangely calm earlier. Why wouldn’t she just tell him what she had planned?

Curiosity took over. He slipped into her bedroom and sat at her desk. Opening her laptop, he scrolled through her emails. Most were work-related, but one caught his eye—a delivery confirmation for his birthday.

As he opened it, his eyes widened. It wasn’t just one gift. Fourteen more were scheduled for the next 15 years.

“What’s going on?” he whispered, his heart pounding. He found an address for a storage unit and a matching key in her drawer.

With shaky hands, he grabbed the key and left. At the storage unit, he unlocked the door. Inside, he saw neatly wrapped gifts, all sizes, each with a note in his mom’s handwriting.

He picked up one note. “Happy 17th birthday, sweetheart. I love you. Here’s a computer to help you study!”

His chest tightened. He opened another note, his heart sinking as he read.

“My dear son, if you’re reading this, I’m likely gone. I’ve battled cancer for years, but the treatments haven’t worked. I wanted your birthdays to feel special, even if I’m not there.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks. He held the note tightly, overwhelmed by her love and effort.

Charlie left the unit and drove home. His mind swirled with emotions. The gifts weren’t just presents—they were reminders of her love.

At home, he found his mom on the couch, reading. She looked up and saw his tear-streaked face. Alarm filled her voice.

“Charlie, what’s wrong?”

He rushed to her, hugging her tightly. “I know, Mom. I found the storage unit.”

Her face fell. “I didn’t want you to know yet.”

“I don’t care about gifts or a car,” he sobbed. “I just want you.”

She hugged him back, her own tears falling. “I love you too, Charlie.”