Page 49 of Betting Brett

“This is perfect,” I say and go to help with the basket.

“I’ve got this, can you help with the blanket?”

I nod and grab the blanket, the warm sun kissing the nape of my neck. I flare out the blanket and place it flat on the ground. Izzy watches impatiently while Brett takes out a bowl of fruit. She goes straight for the strawberries, barely waiting until the bowl is down. It draws a laugh from me and her dad.

We settle into our picnic, the array of foods impressive. We have sandwiches, cheeses, crackers, nuts, fruit, wine. I was actually surprised at how much that basket fit. And I notice another box that sits to the side, untouched.

Brett sits down cross-legged across from me. The blue tee stretches across his broad chest. He’d been looking extra beefy lately, which made me drool for him all the more. I had to let him know.

When we’ve all eaten, Izzy shoots up and points toward the sunflowers, “Andy, come see this!” she exclaims. She grabs my hand and starts to tug me away. I smile at Brett as I allow myself to be led by her. I wasn’t quite sure what she saw, and apparently, neither was she because she pulled me past the sunflowers and deeper into the field.

“Tag, you’re it!” She tags me and bolts. I run after her, laughter coming from both of us. “I tricked you!” Izzy’s declaration is triumphant as she runs away. She makes a sharp turn around me and runs toward the picnic.

That’s when I see him. That’s when everything comes into sharp, sharp focus. The world shifts on its axis. Brett’s eyes - windows to a soul I’ve come to know like my own - lock with mine.

I'm caught in the moment, the world around us dissolving into a blur of colors and sounds. It's just Brett, on one knee, the rustling leaves and distant birdsong adding an ethereal soundtrack to this stunning moment.

Brett’s hands hold a small box. It’s as if time slows, each second stretching, magnifying the anticipation that electrifies the air.

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, Andy,” Brett’s says. I’m anchored in his gaze, the depth of emotion reflecting the journey that has led us to this moment. Best friends to distant but still best friends to reunited best friends to this. Lovers. Partners. Soul Mates. The trials, the triumphs, the uncontainable joy we experienced together - each is a thread weaving the intricate connection of our bond.

“And I can’t imagine a life without you in it,” Brett continues, the vulnerability in his voice obvious. The small box opens, revealing a ring that glistens in the sun.

The world stands still.

“To a life of pure happiness together. I know that I can have that if you’re by my side. And I know you becoming a father to Izzy is also meant to be,” Brett says, “Andy, will you marry me?”

Tears blur the edges of the world. Brett, the man who stands at the center of my universe, who was always the one I dreamed this would happen with, was now on one knee, proposing. Wanting to make me his.

It didn’t even take me a millisecond to think about it. “Yes, absolutely yes!”.

Brett rises, pulling me into his strong arms. He was everything, and now he was mine. How did I ever get this lucky? How had this become my life?

As Brett’s lips meet mine, the world dissolves into a symphony of sensations.

When I open my eyes, the world is painted with a new hue, every color more vibrant, every sound a melody of celebration. I can't stop staring at the beautiful silver ring on my finger, a tangible testament to the love that has always existed, now openly declared and celebrated. Brett’s laughter, rich and warm, lifts me right up to the clouds.

Izzy comes running up to me and Brett, where we pull her into a joint bear hug. “Are you both my daddies now?”

“Yes, honey, we are,” Brett answers her with a kiss on the cheek.

“Yay! Daddy Andy!” She gives me an even tighter hug, and I feel my cheeks get wet with tears. After a long moment or two, we separate, and Izzy finshes the fruit bowl as we start to pick up the picnic.

“I can’t believe you pulled this surprise off,” I say. Brett’s eyes are sparkling, just like mine probably do.

“Well, believe it,” he replies, his hands busy folding the blanket, his smile wide. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Izzy, caught in the infectious wave of our happiness, dances around us.

“I still can’t get over this,” I admit, my gaze fixed on Brett. He’s radiant, the sun casting a golden halo around him, illuminating the man who’s just become my fiancé.

“Well, you better start getting used to it,” Brett teases, his eyes reflecting the depth of his love. “Because I’m not letting you go, ever.”

As Brett reaches for the last of the picnic items, Izzy makes a playful dash towards him. In her exuberance, she accidentally knocks the basket from Brett’s hands. The contents spill onto the grass, and then her laughter, happy and carefree, erupts.

“Izzy!” Brett exclaims, though his tone is more amused than strict. The spilled basket and the scattered remnants of our picnic become part of the story of this unforgettable day.

Epilogue - Brett

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