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Sylus had never been one for birthdays. Growing up, they passed like any other day—unmarked, unremarkable. He used to prefer it that way, finding comfort in the quiet, the forgettable. But then Lili came along, and birthdays slowly transformed from days of silence into soft rituals, miniature adventures wrapped in laughter and love.
Truth be told, Sylus hadn’t wanted anything special this year. Left to his own devices, the day would’ve slipped by unnoticed, and he wouldn’t have minded. But after almost thirteen years of marriage, Lili knew better than to let that happen.
“I booked us dinner at The Seasons in Linkon. The whole twelve-course,” she announced that morning, stealing a piece of baguette from his plate and pressing a kiss to his temple. “And I already booked a sitter, so don’t even try to use the kids as an excuse.”
Now, sitting across from her in the restaurant’s soft amber glow, Sylus found himself deeply, wordlessly grateful. Lili wore a green-emerald silk wrap dress, the fabric catching the light like water. Ruby earrings—his gift to her last year—glinted at her ears, and her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders in loose waves. Her eyes lit up every time they landed on him.
“You’re staring,” she murmured, a smile teasing her lips as she studied the menu.
"I'm appreciating," he corrected, reaching across to brush his fingers against hers. "Thank you for this."
"For making you leave the house on your birthday?" Lili laughed. "Such a hardship."
The waiter had just poured their wine when Sylus's phone lit up. Lili's eyes met his, both of them recognizing the specific chime.
"That would be approximately..." Sylus checked his watch, "Forty-seven minutes without a kid interruption. Longer than I expected."
Lili raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to answer it?"
The device lit up again, insistent. Sylus sighed, already lifting it.
“They’ll just keep calling.”
Aria’s face filled the screen, all serious business. “Dad, I have a question about the universe that can’t wait until tomorrow.”
Sylus's expression softened. "Is that so?"
"Kai said stars are just holes in the sky where heaven shines through. I told him that's scientifically inaccurate."
Behind Aria, Kai’s smaller face popped into view, eager to defend himself. "But Mrs. Elton at school said—"
"Mrs. Elton teaches kindergarten, not astrophysics," Aria countered with the supreme confidence of an eleven-year-old.
Sylus cleared his throat. "Stars are actually massive balls of burning gas, mostly hydrogen and helium—"
"See?" Aria turned triumphantly to her brother.
"—but," Sylus continued gently, "there's something beautiful about thinking of them as holes where heaven shines through, don't you think?"
Kai's face brightened while Aria looked mildly betrayed.
Lili leaned into frame. "Where's Ms. Tessa?" she asked, referring to their regular sitter.
“Making popcorn. She said we could watch one movie, but we couldn’t agree—”
“Robots!” Kai shouted.
“We’ve seen it seventeen times,” Aria groaned.
“How about Deepspace Explorers?” Lili offered. “Robots and scientifically accurate space.”
Both children considered this compromise with matching thoughtful expressions that made Sylus's chest tighten with fondness.
"We'll discuss," Aria finally declared with diplomatic gravity. "Happy birthday, Dad."
"Love you!" Kai added, blowing an enthusiastic kiss before the screen went dark.
As the call ended, Sylus set the phone down with a soft smile. “That went better than expected.”
"They lasted almost an hour," Lili agreed, raising her wine glass. "To small victories."
"To small victories," he agreed, clinking his glass against hers.
"Fifteen years," he said quietly. "Sometimes it feels like yesterday we met."
Lili smiled, swirling the drink in her hand. "And sometimes it feels like I've known you forever. But I guess I do." She took a sip, studying him over the rim. "Do you remember that disastrous first date?"
"The leaking ceiling wasn't part of my plan," he admitted, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Neither was the fire alarm."
"But you handled it with such composure," she said, her eyes warm with the memory. "Most people would have been flustered or angry. You just... adapted."
"I wanted to impress you," he confessed, something vulnerable in his admission. "But you already knew that."
Lili reached across the table to take his hand. "I think what impressed me most wasn't your composure, it was when you finally laughed about it on our walk home. That's when I knew."
"Knew what?"
"That there was so much more to you than you let the world see." Her thumb traced patterns on his palm. "That I wanted to be the one you showed those parts to."
His fingers tightened around hers. "You're the only one who ever has. Well, you and the kids."
As the courses came and went, Lili eventually reached into her purse. "I have something for you," she said, producing a flat, elegantly wrapped box. "Happy birthday, my love."
Sylus accepted it with visible curiosity. He unwrapped it carefully to reveal a watch case. Inside was a timepiece of exquisite craftsmanship: sleek gold face with a brown leather strap, understated but unmistakably luxurious. It was classic, timeless, and from Lili. He loved it instantly.
“Turn it over,” she said.
He did. Inscribed on the back: For all our time. Past, present, future. My heart beats with yours. -L
Sylus stared at it for a long moment, his expression inscrutable to anyone who didn't know him as intimately as she did. But Lili saw the emotion in his eyes, the slight tightening of his jaw that signaled deep feeling.
"There's something else," she said. "Press the crown twice."
When he did, the watch face illuminated briefly, revealing a hidden feature beneath the gold. A tiny compass and locator.
"So you can always find your way back to me," she explained. "No matter where you are."
Sylus looked up at her then, and the raw emotion in his gaze made her breath catch. He removed his old watch and buckled the new one onto his wrist with the kind of care he usually reserved for delicate instruments and newborns. “It’s perfect,” he said, voice just rough enough to betray everything he felt.
They drifted through memories after that—through time. Lili’s laughter spilling across the table, Sylus’s quiet reflections, the map of their years unspooling between them. Thirteen years married next month.
“When did you know that this was it?” she asked, swirling the wine in her glass.
Sylus considered this, his expression thoughtful. “There wasn’t one moment,” he said. “You know I waited for you—for a long time. I would’ve accepted it if you never chose us. But one morning I woke up, looked at you sleeping beside me, and realized I couldn’t imagine a life without you in it. The thought felt... wrong. Like a missing piece.”
“For me, it was the hospital,” she said. “That heart scare. You didn’t leave for three days. Not even to change. You looked terrible.”
“Appreciated.”
“But you were there. Solid. Quiet. Unshakable. And I knew. Whatever happened, you were my person.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, fifteen years of shared history surrounding them like a warm embrace.
"Any regrets?" he asked eventually, his tone casual but his eyes watchful.
Lili didn't hesitate. "Not one. You?"
"Only the times I've hurt you," he said honestly. "Even unintentionally."
She squeezed his hand. "That's part of loving someone. The risk of hurt comes with the territory. But you've given me so much more joy than pain."
"I plan to keep that ratio heavily skewed in joy's favor," he promised.
The gentle moment was broken by ring of Lili's phone, but this time it wasn't a video call from the children. Tessa's name flashed urgently on the screen.
"Tessa? Is everything okay?" Lili answered, concern immediately evident in her voice.
"I'm so sorry to ruin your evening," the sitter said, her voice tight with worry. "Kai woke up about twenty minutes ago crying about his ear hurting, and now he's running a fever. I've tried the fever reducer you left, but it's climbing pretty fast. He's at 39.2 degrees now."
Sylus was already requesting the check before Tessa finished speaking. "We're on our way," he said. "Did you try the cold compress?"
"Yes, but he's asking for both of you. Aria's helping me keep him calm, but—"
"Tell him we'll be there in fifteen minutes," Lili said firmly. "Less if Sylus drives."
They made it home in twelve.
Kai's room was dimly lit by his small star projector, casting gentle blue and purple galaxies across the ceiling. The boy lay curled on his side, eyes glassy with fever and clutching his stuffed robot for dear life. Aria sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, reading aloud from one of her books about space exploration.
"Daddy," Kai whimpered when Sylus entered, arms immediately reaching up.
Sylus gathered him close, pressing his lips to his son's forehead to gauge the heat there. "I'm here, baby. Not feeling good, huh?"
Kai shook his head miserably against Sylus's chest. "My ear hurts."
Lili moved efficiently around them, checking his temperature again, administering medicine, and murmuring soft reassurances. Her fingers brushed against Sylus's as they worked in practiced tandem, a silent communication refined over years of parenting.
"Are you mad that I ruined your special dinner?" Kai asked, his voice small and scratchy.
"Not even a little bit," Sylus answered without hesitation. "Some things are more important."
"Like what?"
"Like you," Sylus said simply. "And Aria. And Mom. That's why birthdays matter at all."
From the doorway, Aria watched with a protective older sister's gaze. "I knew it was his ear again," she said to Lili. "He was pulling at it during the movie."
"Good observation," Lili acknowledged, brushing back Aria's hair and giving her a kiss on the top of her head. "Thank you for helping, baby."
By the time they had Kai settled with medication taking effect, it was well past midnight. Sylus's birthday had technically ended. Aria had eventually fallen asleep in her own bed, and Tessa had been thanked and sent home with extra compensation for the unexpected medical situation.
Sylus found Lili in the kitchen making herbal tea later on. "Some birthday," she said with a tired smile. "I had plans, you know. The kids would be well asleep and there was going to be dessert back at home that wasn't just... dessert."
He moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his face into her hair. "I'll consider that a rain check ," he murmured. "Besides, I got exactly what I wanted."
"A sick kid and cold soup?" she questioned with a laugh, leaning back against him.
"You," he said, turning her in his arms. "The kids. This life we've built. All of it—interruptions, fevers, science debates included."
Lili's eyes softened as she reached up to trace the lines at the corners of his eyes, signs of years of shared laughter. "Even when nothing goes according to plan?"
"Especially then," he confirmed.
Lili rose onto her toes to kiss him, soft and certain. "There's always next year for uninterrupted dinner," she whispered against his lips.
"I'm counting on at least three interruptions. Wouldn't feel like my birthday otherwise."
Later, with Kai nestled between them in their bed (his fever finally breaking but his need for closeness still acute), and Aria eventually finding her way to their room as well ("Just checking on Kai," she'd claimed, though they all knew better), Sylus found himself more content than any elaborate celebration could have made him.
Lili caught his eye over their children's sleeping forms, her hand finding his in the darkness.
"Happy birthday," she mouthed silently.
And despite everything—or perhaps because of it—it truly had been.