Page 24 of The Quirky Vet

"Huh. Okay." He ponders for a minute. "In that case, if the bucks' night is sorted, then why the fuck are you bozos acting strange?"

"We're not," we say at the same time, which doesn't help allay his or Linus's suspicions.

"You sure?" Linus checks. "Because you both seem a little…stiff. And, Wilby, I'll remind you you're an almost married man, and that is not an open invitation for you to grab anyone's crotch."

That earns a chuckle out of us and lightens the mood a little. Thankfully, my next appointment is up, so I have an excuse to leave.

As I walk down the hallway, I remind myself to call the solicitor and get things moving. I haven't heard anything from her in a few days.

I really hate the way this is affecting Muir, so hopefully ending our marriage will help pull him out of whatever funk he's in, and he'll be back to his old self again.

"Thanks for coming over early," I say, opening the front door to let Muir inside.

"Yeah, no worries," he replies, dashing past me, carrying a cooler.

Normally we greet each other with a hug, but since he's clearly still not okay, he's already heading for the back door. It's not like I'm going to run after him and insist on one.

I have to say, I'm starting to get a little irritated by hisbehaviour. He was even weirder at work today, and we were yet again forced to deflect and lie to our friends that nothing is going on.

I get that he's wound a little tighter than most people, but it'sme. Why can't he tellmewhat's going on?

That's why I asked him to come over early, before everyone else arrives for the campfire bucks' night, so we can have a chat and get things sorted.

I don't like it when things aren't right with us. I may be the more out there one, but that's because I've got him in my corner. He doesn't realise how much I need him. How much his presence helps calm and balance me. How when, on the odd occasion things are off between us, it sends me into a tailspin.

Muir is my rock. He always has been. We need to talk and resolve whatever his issue is so we can go back to normal.

"This looks great," he says once we're out in my backyard, eyeing off the four rustic wooden benches that encircle the fire pit.

I've got a two-acre block, the surrounding landscape a mix of red earth and native bush. There's a faint scent of eucalyptus in the air.

He drops his esky next to my three coolers. "Bought all the ice in Scuttlebutt," he says with a hint of amusement.

I grin. "Yeah. Col was pretty insistent."

He only mentioned it, like, fifty million times in our group chat. Apparently, Americans can never have too much ice, and since his dad and best friend, as well as Wilby's dad and his partner are American, I asked Muir to get some more, just to be on the safe side.

"Need help with the BBQ?" Muir asks, tipping his head towards the Weber.

"No, thanks. I've got it covered."

He rubs his hands down the sides of his legs and walks over to the grill.

He's nervous. Why is he nervous around me?

"See you've stocked up on marshmallows," he says when I join him.

"Yeah. And Col's dad is bringing the Graham crackers. Keen to try a s'more. Never had one."

"Yeah. Me, either." He turns around and walks back to the fire. "Hey, the video is doing well."

I posted the video of me inspecting Tilly's ears yesterday. "Yeah. It is." I take a seat on one of the benches.

Muir looks at me and bites his lower lip, like he's seriously considering whether to share a bench with me or sit on another one.

I inhale deeply and remind myself that getting frustrated with him won't help. I want a resolution, not a confrontation.

He chooses to sit on the same bench but keeps the maximum possible distance between us.