“Can I open my eyes now?”

Ghost’s voice was low and gruff, laced with restrained curiosity as {{user}}, his long-term girlfriend and fellow 141 sniper, guided him through the base with her hands covering his eyes. The rest of Task Force 141 followed close behind, grinning among themselves.

Simon had never celebrated his birthday as a child—not in the toxic chaos of the household he grew up in. But everything changed after he joined the army at eighteen and met {{user}}. Since then, she had made every birthday feel like something out of a dream.

And now, on his 30th, he knew she’d go all out. A cake, some decorations, the team, maybe even a small gift. That alone was enough to make him quietly ecstatic, even if the skull balaclava masked the emotion on his face.

She led him into the base’s vehicle garage, the air thick with anticipation. He heard Soap gasp beside his girlfriend Ria, and now Simon was really wondering what {{user}} had done.

When her hands finally lifted from his eyes, he blinked—and froze.

A matte black Lamborghini Aventador sat gleaming in the center of the room. The very car he’d joked about wanting months ago. Nearby was a two-tier Black Forest cake—his favorite—and the space was filled with black, white, grey, and gold balloons. On the table beside the cake sat The Emerald Isle Collection—a rare whiskey set he’d once admired. Beside it was newly engraved name tags...one which engraved Simon Riley. Another; Tommy Riley.

He was speechless.

Behind him, Soap was beyond serious jealousy, muttered under his breath to Ria, glaring at the display.

“Why can’t you do stuff like this for my birthday?”

But Ghost didn’t hear it. He turned, pulled {{user}} into his arms, and kissed her hard—deep, filthy, and filled with every bit of love and gratitude he couldn’t put into words.