Chapter 14 #2
"That’s the one," Preston nods. "Do you remember what your mother said? She looked at us, covered in jelly, and basically demanded grandbabies."
"She started planning the menu," LukeLuke grins. "She assumed we were a done deal."
Preston reaches into his pocket. He pulls out two platinum rings.
"We never corrected her," Preston says quietly.
Luke freezes. He stares at the rings glinting under the chandelier light. He stares at Preston.
"Preston..." Luke whispers. "You... you bought these after the lobby?"
"I bought them the next morning," Preston admits. "While you were scrubbing the last of the jelly off your shoes. I’m a York, Luke. We calculate risk. And when Mama Ortiz looked at us and saw a future... I realized I saw it too."
He looks at Luke, his cool exterior cracking just enough to show the terrifying amount of love underneath.
"I kept them in my safe," Preston says. "Waiting. But looking at Alistair... looking at Max... I realize waiting is pointless. The chaos is here."
Luke laughs. It’s a loud, happy sound that cuts through the noise of the room.
"You’ve had rings for six months because my mom bullied you?" Luke asks, incredulous.
"Because she was right," Preston smiles, a genuine, brilliant smile. "So... why wait? We’re already here. The bar is open. The priest is drunk. And Mama Ortiz is watching."
"Yes," Luke says. "Yes. Let’s do it. Let’s make her right."
Preston slides the ring onto Luke’s finger. It fits perfectly.
"Let’s go find O’Malley," Preston says.
They walk toward the stage, hand in hand.
"Wait!" Preston shouts. "Father! Miguel! Hold the Archbishop!"
Alistair turns around. "Preston? Are you objecting?"
"No," Preston says, pulling Luke onto the stage. "We’re joining."
"Joining?" Alistair blinks.
"Double wedding," Luke announces, holding up his hand to show the ring. "We’re doing it now. Efficiency, right Max?"
Max, who is standing with me near the cake, looks at his brother. He smiles.
"Maximum efficiency," Max agrees.
Archbishop O’Malley stumbles out from behind a flower arrangement. He has a glass of wine in one hand and a piece of cake in the other.
"Did someone say marriage?" O’Malley asks.
"Two of them!" Alistair shouts. "Line 'em up, Patrick!"
"Splendid!" O’Malley beams. "The Pope is going to love this! It’s a BOGO sale on sacraments!"
We all gather on the stage.
First, Alistair and Miguel.
"I, Alistair," he says, holding Miguel’s hands, "take you, Miguel, to be my chaos. I promise to learn Spanish. I promise to wear the sarongs. And I promise to love you louder than I have ever loved anything in my life."
"And I, Miguel," Miguel beams, "take you, Papi, to be my Tiger. I promise to buy you all the karaoke machines. I promise to keep you sweet. And I promise to fund the parrots until the end of time."
Then, Preston and Luke.
Preston takes Luke's hands. He looks nervous, but steady. He takes a deep breath, dropping the 'Spare' persona entirely.
"Luke," Preston says, his voice thick with emotion. "I spent my entire life being the Spare. The Plan B. The one who cleaned up the mess while the Heir was busy being perfect. I thought my job was to be invisible. To be the safety net. But you... you saw me."
He squeezes Luke's hands.
"You didn't see a York. You didn't see a fix-it man. You saw Preston. You showed me that I wasn't just a supporting character in Max's story. With you, I'm the lead. I promise to never hide again. I promise to be worthy of the main event."
He pauses. Something shifts in his expression — a tiny, dangerous flicker of mischief breaking through the sincerity.
"And I promise that there will never, ever be a conflict of interest between my heart and yours." He leans in slightly, dropping his voice to something that is almost private. "Even when you eat cereal at midnight. Standing over the sink. In my cashmere socks."
Luke's composure cracks. He lets out a startled, wet laugh, completely blindsided.
"I have told you—"
"In. My. Cashmere. Socks," Preston repeats, perfectly serene.
Luke wipes his eye with his free hand. He's still laughing when he starts his own vows.
"Preston," Luke says. "You were never a spare to me. You were always the whole world. I promise to keep you humble. I promise to eat the pudding. And I promise to love you, even when you try to colour-code my life."
He glances down at his feet. Back up at Preston.
"And I promise to buy my own socks."
"Thank you," Preston says, genuinely relieved.
"Let's go make some noise."
"That it, we done? Great, I now pronounce you," O’Malley shouts, swaying, "Husbands and Husbands! You may kiss the... everyone! Just kiss everyone!"
Alistair kisses Miguel. Preston kisses Luke. I kiss Max.
The room explodes.
In the front row, Rosa Ortiz bursts into fresh tears. She clutches her chest, vindicated.
"I knew it!" Rosa wails joyfully. "I told them! Grandbabies! So many grandbabies! I need to knit! Someone get me yarn!"
"Statistically," Max says, leaning into me as we watch the chaos of his family finally, truly coming together, "this is the most illogical outcome possible."
"And?" I ask.
Max smiles.
"And it is perfect."