today would have been a day where he would have made Jack a far more extravagant breakfast. steak just the way he liked it. enough food to feed far more people than just the two of them. he'd have taken the day off to spend with Jack and do whatever he wanted. even if he didn't feel like doing anything.
but now everything is different.
and so with that so is his usual celebration of Jack's birthday. drawing attention to anything was not something that he wanted to do. not wanting to make Jack uncomfortable in the process of making sure he knows every year this wasn't something he was going to forget.
in Jack's locker he'll find a coffee from what used to be 'their' spot some mornings, in a travel mug that was very much one of Robby's own. and the same sandwich that Jack ordered for months straight, wrapped in tinfoil to keep it warm. with a sticky note that directs Jack to the bed of the truck. there he'd find a box that was telling enough about what was inside. a knife that he'd seen online one night that he couldn't sleep that he thought Jack would like.
it's small and unintrusive. struggling to find his footing in either of their lives anymore.
but he refused to let Jack think that he was going to forget one year.
They had always been private about their life and their relationship. 3 people knew about it, really knew about it and that was it. He could smell it before he opened the locker. It made Jack pause. As if opening the door to his locker was equivalent to opening a Pandora box. Jack bit his lip, and swallowed then slowly did.
He was right. It smelled of that place they went certain mornings and there was no doubt who this was from, because the mug was Robby's. The vet looked at it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It always made him feel so humbled when someone remembered something he liked, because he never expected that from anyone. His hand went to the mug, his thumb just going over the the rim as he remembered.
Before. How he started to enjoy it more, his birthday. Kisses and laughter, a breakfast for a king. Simple and so very them. Robby's love language. It was tempting to lose himself in the nostalgia of it, just a little. Because despite everything they had been going through, especially Robby, he still remembered, and cared. Some clattering nearby snapped him back to the moment. He took the sandwich and put it in his bag, and the mug and closed it.
Jack found Robby before leaving. He got his attention by putting a hand on his arm. It was really just to have a connection, one that for the world was decent, for him was just as painful and as needed. "All set for the day?" Jack nodded. "Thanks for breakfast ..." there was a silence lingering in the air, a gaze Jack left too long on the other male. He wanted to say something else, do something else, but refrained. All he did was one armed him goodbye. "Don't make me come back on my birthday, brother, no mass casualties today okay? " he warned with a deflected joke.
As he joined his car, he remembered the sticky note and looked over the bed of the truck. A box. He took it and climbed into his car. When he opened it, there was a knife. A nice one. As he looked at it, he put an elbow on the door, his fingers went to his mouth. He was looking at nothing in particular, just to the side.
In the quiet and safety of Betsy, he wondered where it all had gotten so wrong between them. Why the pain he was now definitely feeling in his chest was still the reason he loved him as well. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He sniffled. Jack then looked down at the box again and closed it. He let his hand rest on the box. "I love you too , fibs." he whispered and put the box next to him. He wiped away a tear as he left the parking bay.
