49. Roll for Commitment #3
Just because I can.
Just because fiancé.
Jesus.
Cami looks between us. “So when?”
“We've been engaged for approximately four minutes,” Micah says.
“Five,” Ronan corrects.
I point at him again. “Stop timing my engagement.”
“I wasn't.”
“Liar.”
Griffin laughs.
The house feels suddenly too small for how much is happening inside my chest.
I look at Micah.
He's watching me.
Something settles.
Then, naturally, my brain finds the next possible complication.
“So, logistical question.”
Everyone groans.
“What?” I protest. “I'm growing.”
Micah squeezes my waist.
“Question.”
“If Micah and I get married, and Griffin and Cami are married, does that officially create two married primary units?”
Ronan answers before anyone else. “Legally, it creates two marriages.”
“Hot.”
“Structurally, nothing changes unless we decide it changes.”
I nod.
“Okay. Follow-up. Are you sure you don't feel like the last kid picked for kickball?”
Ronan's expression goes very still.
Cami's smile fades around the edges.
I immediately want to take the joke back.
Then Ronan sighs. “Dex.”
“Yeah?”
“I don't need a marriage certificate to know where I belong.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
“That doesn't mean I don't care about permanence. We've had this conversation.”
“We have.”
“And if someday I decide I want some form of commitment that includes legal marriage, I am capable of saying so.”
I stare at him. “You're sure?”
“Yes.”
His expression softens slightly. “I'm happy for you.”
Fuck.
That lands.
I take three steps and hug him.
Ronan stiffens for exactly half a second because I did not ask.
Then his hand comes up against my back.
I loosen immediately. “Sorry.”
“You're fine.”
“Emotional emergency.”
“I gathered.”
Cami wipes under one eye. “I love us.”
Griffin looks toward her. “Don't start.”
“I'm not starting anything.”
“You're about to.”
“I just think—”
“Cami.”
She sighs dramatically. “Fine.”
Micah laughs behind me.
Then Griffin looks at the ring again. “Actually, since we're apparently discussing structure…”
Ronan groans.
I stare at him. “Was that a groan?”
“No.”
“It was.”
Griffin ignores both of us. “We should probably actually call the lawyer.”
The room quiets.
Cami nods first. “Yeah.”
Micah's arm tightens around me slightly.
We've talked about it.
A lot.
Medical powers of attorney.
Wills.
Beneficiaries.
Who gets called.
Who gets access.
Who gets to make decisions if somebody can't.
After Cami's ICU stay, we discussed all of it until Ronan had enough notes to qualify as a paralegal.
Then everybody's families learned the truth, Cami recovered, Micah's family imploded, life kept moving, and none of us actually made the appointment.
Because humans are very good at treating non-emergency planning like something future us will enjoy doing.
Ronan nods. “Yes.”
I lift my left hand. “Nothing says engagement like estate planning.”
Cami grins. “Talk dirty to me.”
Griffin points at her. “No.”
She laughs.
Micah shakes his head. “This isn't why we're getting married.”
“I know,” Griffin says.
His voice is immediately serious enough that I look at him. “That's important.”
He glances at Cami—probably thinking about their own beginning. “You shouldn't get married because it makes the paperwork easier.”
“We aren't,” Micah says.
“I know. But now that there will probably be two legal marriages inside one family, we should stop pretending verbal agreements are enough.”
Ronan nods. “Exactly.”
I look around the room.
At my fiancé.
My girlfriend.
Her husband.
Ronan in his fucking Owl costume.
Something about the whole thing is so ridiculous that it circles back around to profound.
I lift my hand again. “Okay. Proposal today. Lawyer later.”
“Correct,” Ronan says.
“Party tonight.”
Cami points at me. “Only after I photograph that ring from seventeen angles.”
“Obviously.”
Griffin looks at the clock. “We were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago.”
Nobody moves.
He sighs. “Why do I bother?”
“Because you love us,” Cami says.
He looks at her.
Then all of us.
“Unfortunately.”
“Aw.”
“Shoes. Now.”
Everyone starts moving at once.
Cami runs back upstairs for her phone.
Ronan returns for his mug.
Griffin starts collecting things nobody asked him to collect.
Micah stays.
I stay too.
For a few seconds, the moment is ours again.
I look down at the ring.
Then up at him.
“You're really going to be my family.”
Micah's face changes. “Dex.”
“I know.”
I laugh softly and scrub under one eye before the remaining eyeliner can migrate farther down my face.
“I know you already are. That's not what I mean.”
He waits.
That's one of the things he does better than anyone.
Waits until I find the real sentence. “When we get married, you're going to be my husband.”
“Yes.”
“And I'll be yours.”
“Yes.”
I look down again. “That's fucking huge.”
Micah steps closer.
His hands settle around my waist. “I know.”
“For you too?”
“Of course.”
I look at him. “Sometimes you're so calm about things I can't tell.”
His mouth curves. “I proposed to you.”
“Excellent point.”
“I made you an illustrated retrospective.”
“Also true.”
“I designed a ring.”
“Okay, now you're bragging.”
“I cried on the kitchen floor.”
I grin. “You did.”
“So did you.”
“Not relevant.”
He kisses me.
Soft.
No audience.
No joke waiting behind it.
When he pulls back, his forehead stays against mine.
“I love you.”
There are still some sentences that hit every time.
“I love you too.”
Upstairs, Cami yells, “FIANCéS, WE NEED TO GO.”
I close my eyes.
Micah laughs against my mouth. “We should go.”
“Do we have to?”
“Yes.”
“But I just got engaged.”
“Which is not a recognized exemption from plans.”
“Should be.”
I let him go long enough to finish my eyeliner in the hall mirror.
It is not my best work.
I don't care.
Then I help him clean the orange off his face.
Ten minutes later we're outside.
Cami is Pooh.
Griffin is Christopher Robin.
Ronan looks so much like Owl that it is honestly becoming upsetting.
Micah has gray ears and a detachable tail he hates.
I am Tigger.
Obviously.
Cami makes us stop under the porch light for pictures.
Micah stands beside me with one arm around my waist.
I make sure my left hand is visible.
Last Halloween, I walked into the bar with Micah and Cami and thought about how unreal it felt to call them my boy and my girl.
Then pictures ended up everywhere.
People noticed.
Questions started.
For the first time, being seen together became something we had to actually think about.
Tonight I look at Cami's phone while she takes another picture.
At the black ring catching light on my hand.
A year ago, being seen felt like something that might cost us.
Tonight, I want the pictures.
I want people to see.
That's my fiancé.
And fuck, I really like how that sounds.