Page 14

Fitz

"So," Muir says once we reach his grandfather's house after a busy day at the clinic. "I did something."

"O-kay."

I suspected he was up to something. He's been acting strange these past few days, and since he's such a bad liar, every time I bring it up, he replies with Everything's fine, or if I ask him what he's up to, he says Nothing, three octaves higher than usual, like his balls have been sucked into his body.

He clears his throat. "Now, before I tell you what I did, I want you to know it's from a good place."

"O-kay."

"And if you hate it, that's fine, too. I won't be upset or offended. This isn't about me. Today is all about you."

It is my birthday, so yeah, I guess he's right.

Like he always does on this day, Muir's been treading carefully. He picked me up before our shift and handed me a birthday card with a donation to my favourite wildlife rescue organisation. It's become a nice ritual and a touching gesture since I don't want any presents.

He was extra nice at work, making sure I had a cup of piping hot coffee waiting for me in the staff lounge between my morning appointments and then tea and freshly baked scones from Mrs. Mangle's bakery for my short gaps in the arvo.

But every time I asked him what he was up to after work, his cheeks went pink. Nothing.

Yeah. Right.

Nothing my furry arse.

He threads his fingers through mine and says tentatively, "I know your birthday is a tough day for you, but today isn't just any birthday. It's a milestone." He pauses. "You're officially old."

I chuckle. "Yep. I am."

He shifts gears, and from the first word he utters, it's clear he's not joking around anymore. "I know losing Lleyton was unimaginably traumatic. And it makes complete sense that today isn't a day you might feel like celebrating."

"O-kay?"

"So…" Muir rakes a hand through his hair, his nerves clearly visible. "I wanted to do something special for you, because turning thirty is a big deal, while also honouring Lleyton."

"You're speaking in riddles, mate." I hear what sounds like a laugh from inside the house followed by a round of shushing. I turn to face Muir. "What have you done?"

"I threw you a best of surprise birthday party, a kind of all-in-one thing to give you a little taste of what they're like. And for Lleyton, well, check out the walls once we head inside. And if you hate it all, and it's too much, just tell me, and I'll make everyone disappear. And it's the winter solstice, officially the longest night of the year, so I'm throwing that in there, too. Oh, and act surprised." He nods to himself. "Yeah. Exactly how you look now. Make that same face when the front door opens." He finally takes a breath. "Are you mad?"

"I'm not mad." I glance at the front door, then shift my gaze back to Muir, his teeth spearing into his bottom lip. He's put a lot of thought into this, I can tell, and I'm touched. But it's also one of the hardest days of the year for me, so I'm all over the place.

I look at the front door then back at Muir. "I'll be honest, I don't know how I feel. But it's not mad."

"Are you sure? Because it's one hundred percent okay if you are. I did such a good job of hiding it that you're probably thrown for a loop."

"You did an absolutely shit job of hiding it because I had a hunch you were up to something, but I'm really okay."

"Really?"

"Yes?"

"Really really?"

"Stop saying really. And don't say sorry," I say just as he begins to say, "Sor?—"

He clears his throat. "We really don't have to go in. I can tell everyone you had explosive diarrhoea and shat yourself, and we can go back to your place, and I can continue flogging your arse at Mortal Kombat on the PlayStation. No, wait. It's your birthday, so I'll let you win."

He's flustered, babbling, and red in the face. I slide my hands up his neck. "Now that is a horrible idea. I'd rather go inside."

He nods, takes a few breaths, and composes himself before bringing his closed hand to the door. "You ready?"

I nod. "I am."

He knocks. "Act surprised."

"I will."

Sid opens the door. "I'm stark fucking naked," he announces. "Fitz, close your eyes. I don't want you seeing me like this. You might get jealous, and I don't want that for you, son."

I chuckle and go along with the ruse, closing my eyes as Muir places his hand in the small of my back and guides me into the house.

"Got me undies on, now my pants," Sid goes on as Muir gets me into what I'm assuming is prime being-yelled-at position. "Shirt is on. Whaddya reckon, Muir? Am I decent?"

"Never. But you can open your eyes now, Fitz."

I open my eyes, and my jaw drops—half playing along, but also truly taken aback by the wild "Surprise!" from my friends and family. Everyone I know and love is here. My folks. The crew from work. All of my other mates and their partners and kids.

"You okay?" Muir asks, latching on to my forearm.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

It's been twenty years since I've had a birthday party, and never a surprise one, but I'm guessing the overwhelm and excitement and self-consciousness are par for the course for the occasion.

My parents are the first ones to come over, and they each give me a big hug. I pull them in tight and embrace them with all my strength, knowing full well how hard a day this is for them as well. Losing a child must be about as heartbreaking as losing a brother.

When I pull back, Dad, with tears in his eyes, says, "Take a look at the walls, son."

I look to my left, and as soon as I see it, I start crying. "Shit." I cover my mouth, the tears coming hard and fast. I'm powerless to stop them.

"Oh, sweetie." Mum consoles me with another hug.

"No, no. These are good tears." I clear them away and stare at Muir through watery eyes. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. "No problem."

Side by side, we move around Sid's living room, taking in the countless images of Lleyton carefully arranged along the walls.

Lleyton and I laughing side by side in our highchairs on our first birthday, our chubby faces smeared with cake.

The two of us standing in identical clothes, grinning mischievously, as chubby-faced toddlers.

On the first day of school in our oversized uniforms, me nervous, Lleyton smiling widely.

Learning to ride the BMX bikes we got from Santa, me pedalling cautiously while Lleyton cheers me on.

Him playing dress-up when he couldn't decide whether he wanted to be a dinosaur or Batman, so he went with a combination of the two.

"Your parents let me raid your family photo album," Muir explains with a self-deprecating smile. "I wanted it to feel like he's here with you."

"I'm… I'm speechless. This is the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you. I… I can't even find words."

"And you don't have to. And you don't have to thank me, or I'll start apologising."

"For what?"

"I'll find something, don't you worry."

I smile as my eyes travel over the photos, getting transported back in time and absorbing snippets of the memories they invoke.

The one where Lleyton's smiling proudly the day his front tooth fell out, and I'm on the verge of tears because we were going to look different for the first time. The roughness of the frayed carpet in our bedroom as we crawled across it as bare-bummed toddlers. The refreshing shade of the Coolibah Tree where Dad rigged up a swing, and we spent hours playing under it.

"So many memories," I murmur. "He wasn't here for long, but he sure made an impact."

"Of course he did. He's an Eastridge," Dad says, coming up behind us with Mum in tow. He gives my back a clap. "Remember that day?" He gestures to the photo of us on a horse. Well, Lleyton was on the horse, I was running away, petrified of it.

"I do," I say, my chest warming. "That's the day I stopped being afraid of animals."

Seeing Lleyton so unafraid inspired me to stop being so reserved and give it a go as well. That horse was the softest, kindest soul I'd ever encountered, and it showed me the beauty and majesty of all animals. In a way, that day, Lleytons's simple act of being himself, is what led me to becoming a vet.

"This is amazing. Thank you," I say, hugging Muir. And with our bodies pressed together, I add, "And I'm going to keep thanking you all day, so you'd better get used to it."

"Well, all right. But only because you're the birthday boy."

Wilby, Col, Linus, and Ryde join us, wishing me a happy birthday and giving me presents. "You guys didn't have to do this," I tell them.

"I didn't want to, but my husband made me," Wilby jokes as Col rolls his eyes and swats Wilby's chest.

I open each present—a faux-leather wallet from Wilby and Col, which is super useful since my current one is starting to fray, a framed picture of Tilly from Linus, which is super thoughtful, and a Vets Have The Biggest Dicks mug from Ryde.

"Thanks, you guys," I say. "And good call on the mug," I tell Ryde.

He smiles and points at Wilby. "Wasn't my idea, but I stand by it."

And then Ryde's gaze lands on Linus, who immediately starts rubbing the back of his neck while Ryde fidgets with the hem of his shirt. Right. So that situation is still as dependably awkward as always.

"Let's go outside," Muir suggests. "We've got chairs set out around the bonfire and more of that s'mores shit you put us onto, Col."

We go outside, and as the day gives way to night over the next few hours, we talk and laugh and make s'mores. We have a water balloon fight where none of the boys hold back, and we all end up drenched. We dried off, did some karaoke, hauled Wilby off when he started hogging the mic, mucked around and took a bunch of silly pictures in the photo booth, then ate and drank some more. I can honestly say this is the best birthday I've had since—since I stopped having birthdays.

"Can I get you anything?" Muir asks, getting up from the camping chair next to me.

"Nah." I lift my half-full tinnie. "I'm good, thanks."

"Okay. Cool."

"Young man!"

Muir freezes at the sound of Wilby's grandma's voice. "Oh, shit," he murmurs as Polly approaches with a gleam in her eye.

"Tell me," she says, jabbing him in the chest. "Why are you the only fella I haven't danced with tonight?"

"Uh…"

"Come on. No dilly dallying."

And with that, she drags my bestie away towards the makeshift dance floor she's been tearing up nonstop.

"If I'm not back in twenty minutes, rescue me," Muir cries jokingly over his shoulder. At least, I think he's kidding.

Polly manages to sweep up Sid on her way to the dance floor, and I smile as I watch her try to make the two Landers men dance with her. Despite the absence of smooth moves, it's still an adorable sight. I pull my phone out and snap a few photos. I flip to video mode and catch Muir, cracking up as he hip bumps Polly and Sid, clearly grooving to a tune only he can hear. I can't decide if it's tragic or sweet.

I stop recording right as Linus drops into the empty chair beside me. "Hey."

"Hey."

"How's it going?"

"Yeah, good."

"Enjoying the party?"

"I am. It was…very thoughtful of Muir."

"It was."

Polly lets out a loud holler as—Jesus, fuck—she climbs up onto Muir's shoulders and starts lassoing her arms around like she's riding a bull. Muir momentarily struggles to adjust to the unexpected weight, staggering around for a few steps, but eventually he recovers, secures a good grip on the crazy woman on his shoulders, and straightens to full height.

"Quick question," Linus says. "Are you guys even pretending to dissolve the marriage you're in, or has that fallen by the wayside?"

"It kind of has. We've been a little…busy with other stuff."

Linus grins. "I see. So, things are progressing on the physical front?"

"They are."

"And on the emotional front?"

"Yep. There, too."

My gaze gets pulled to the dance floor as Muir carefully lowers Polly to the ground then makes a big show of pretending his back is hurt. At least, I think he's pretending.

I've loved Muir for years as my best mate. But what I'm feeling for him now runs deeper than that.

He's my biggest supporter.

He's always got my back.

And he makes me feel more alive than anyone ever has, every moment with him humming with energy I didn't know was missing from my life.

When we're together, the world feels brighter, sharper, like the colours have been turned up a notch and everything is more vibrant. I may be the more outgoing one of the two of us, but he's my engine, the source that keeps me going.

It's not just the way we can chill and have a good time doing anything and nothing, or how his touch sends sparks through me—it's the way he sees me. Really sees me. I can be more of who I am when I'm with him.

I'm glad I ducked out after lunch on Sunday in Brissie and raced down to the jewellery shop to buy that ring.

Because I'm sure of this. I'm sure of us.

I want to be with Muir.

Forever.

He's been with me for two-thirds of my life as my best friend, I now want to spend the rest of my days with him as something much more than that.

I want to be his husband.

Yes, yes, technically we are already married, I know, but I want to do things the right way this time. No alcohol. No memory blackouts. No piecing shit together the next day.

But properly. The way he deserves.

The only thing left to do now is find the right time to pop the question.