Chapter 16 The Man I Call My Wife #2
And as Nathaniel kissed the side of his head, Evan realized that perhaps marriage had already begun long before they chose a date.
It had begun in the quiet moments.
In shared meals.
In arguments.
In forgiveness.
In choosing each other again and again.
In the hand resting gently over his growing bump.
In the future they were already building.
The wedding would simply give the promise a name.
Evan smiled and looked down at his ring.
Soon, he would be Nathaniel's husband.
But tonight, sitting beside the man he loved in the home they had created together, he already felt married.
Husband
Nathaniel had never thought a title could change the way a room felt.
Yet lately, every time he introduced Evan, the words carried a weight that was both simple and profound.
"My fiancé."
Soon, he would say something else.
"My husband."
The thought still surprised him.
Not because he doubted the decision.
Because the word sounded so permanent.
So real.
And because Evan had become part of his life so naturally that Nathaniel sometimes forgot there had ever been a time when he imagined living without him.
They attended a small business dinner together a few weeks after the proposal.
It was the first time Nathaniel had deliberately brought Evan into a setting where their relationship would be openly acknowledged.
There were no cameras.
No formal announcement.
No attempt to create publicity.
Just a room filled with people Nathaniel had known for years.
Evan walked beside him, one hand resting lightly against the curve of his pregnancy.
Nathaniel noticed the glances.
Some were curious.
Some were surprised.
A few lingered on the ring.
Nobody said anything inappropriate.
At least not yet.
Nathaniel placed a hand gently at the small of Evan's back.
"You all right?"
Evan nodded.
"Yes."
"Want to leave?"
"No."
Nathaniel smiled.
"Good."
Evan looked at him.
"You seem nervous."
"I am."
"You?"
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
"Don't sound so surprised."
"I've never seen you nervous at a business dinner."
"This isn't a business dinner."
"What is it?"
Nathaniel looked at him.
"It's the first time I've brought my future husband into this part of my life."
Evan's expression softened.
"Future husband."
Nathaniel smiled.
"Yes."
The words felt right.
More than right.
They felt inevitable.
Later, one of Nathaniel's longtime associates approached them.
"Nathaniel."
They shook hands.
Then the man's attention shifted to Evan.
"And you must be Evan."
Evan smiled.
"I am."
The man looked at Nathaniel.
"I've heard quite a bit about you."
Nathaniel smiled.
"Hopefully nothing too terrible."
"Mostly good."
The man glanced at the ring on Evan's finger.
"Congratulations."
"Thank you," Evan said.
Nathaniel rested his hand against Evan's back.
"My fiancé."
The man smiled.
"Of course."
Evan looked at Nathaniel for half a second.
There was something about hearing Nathaniel say it aloud that made his chest warm.
Fiancé.
Not secret.
Not friend.
Not acquaintance.
Fiancé.
The word belonged to both of them now.
They spent another hour at the dinner.
Nathaniel made sure Evan never felt stranded in conversation.
He introduced him to people.
He listened when Evan spoke.
He never answered questions meant for Evan.
He never treated him like an accessory.
When they finally left, Evan slipped his hand into Nathaniel's.
"You did well."
Nathaniel glanced at him.
"At what?"
"Introducing me."
"My fiancé?"
Evan smiled.
"Yes."
Nathaniel kissed his temple.
"I like saying it."
"I noticed."
They arrived home late.
The house was quiet.
Evan removed his jacket and placed it over a chair.
Nathaniel watched him walk toward the kitchen.
Something inside Nathaniel settled.
Home.
That word had changed meaning too.
He followed Evan.
"Do you want tea?"
"Please."
Nathaniel prepared it while Evan sat at the kitchen island.
He placed the cup in front of him.
Evan smiled.
"Thank you."
Nathaniel leaned against the counter.
"My wife."
Evan looked up.
There it was again.
The name.
It had started accidentally.
A thought.
A private joke that had never quite remained a joke.
Nathaniel hadn't planned to keep using it.
But every time the words came to him, they felt natural.
Evan had become his wife in the strange, private language of their relationship.
Not because Nathaniel thought Evan needed to become someone else.
Not because he saw Evan as less masculine.
Not because the word had anything to do with replacing Evan's identity.
It meant something else entirely.
Home.
Partnership.
The person beside him when the day ended.
The person who knew where everything belonged.
The person who could make an ordinary kitchen feel warmer simply by being there.
The person Nathaniel wanted to come home to.
Evan took a sip of tea.
"You did it again."
Nathaniel smiled.
"Did what?"
"You called me your wife."
Nathaniel nodded.
"I did."
"You keep doing that."
"I know."
"Why?"
Nathaniel looked at him.
He had explained it once before, but something had changed since then.
Before, the word had embarrassed him.
Now it felt almost sacred.
"Because you are."
Evan raised an eyebrow.
"That's not an explanation."
Nathaniel laughed.
"No."
Evan waited.
Nathaniel walked closer.
"When I first called you that, I didn't understand why."
"You thought it was funny."
"I thought it was strange."
"It was."
"I'd never used the word that way before."
Evan smiled.
"Neither had I."
Nathaniel rested his hands on the counter.
"But then I realized something."
"What?"
"You became the person who made this place feel like home."
Evan's expression softened.
Nathaniel continued.
"Before you, this house was just where I lived."
Evan listened.
"It was comfortable. Expensive. Quiet."
He looked around the kitchen.
"But it didn't feel alive."
Evan looked down.
"Then you came here."
Nathaniel's voice became softer.
"You started making coffee in the morning."
Evan smiled.
"You complained about my cooking."
"You were terrible."
"I was learning."
"You still are."
Evan laughed.
Nathaniel smiled.
"You left books in the living room."
"I still do."
"You started arguing with me about the thermostat."
"Because you keep it too cold."
"You made the kitchen noisy."
"You mean better."
"I do."
Nathaniel reached for his hand.
"You made me look forward to coming home."
Evan's eyes became glossy.
Nathaniel squeezed his fingers.
"That's what the word means to me."
Evan was quiet.
"It means you're my partner."
Nathaniel continued.
"My person."
He paused.
"The man who takes care of me when I forget to take care of myself."
Evan smiled faintly.
"You do that a lot."
"I know."
"It means I trust you."
Nathaniel lifted Evan's hand.
"It means you belong here."
Evan's eyes lifted.
"Here?"
"With me."
Nathaniel corrected himself.
"Not because I own you. Because you choose to be here."
Evan's expression softened.
"That's important."
"I know."
Nathaniel kissed his knuckles.
"You are still Evan."
"Obviously."
"You're still independent."
"Definitely."
"You're still stubborn."
"Very."
Nathaniel smiled.
"And you still challenge me."
"Constantly."
"Good."
He looked into Evan's eyes.
"So when I call you my wife, I'm not asking you to become someone you're not."
Evan nodded slowly.
"I understand."
"I mean that you're the person who shares my home, my life, my heart."
Evan looked down at their joined hands.
"Partnership."
"Yes."
"Intimacy."
"Yes."
"Caretaking."
"Definitely."
Evan smiled.
"Belonging."
Nathaniel nodded.
"Exactly."
Evan looked at him for a long moment.
"I think I like it now."
Nathaniel's eyebrows rose.
"You do?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I know what you mean."
Nathaniel smiled.
"What do you think I mean?"
Evan stood.
He walked toward Nathaniel until they were close enough that Nathaniel could feel his warmth.
"I think you mean I'm your home."
Nathaniel's expression softened.
"That's exactly what I mean."
Evan placed his hands against Nathaniel's chest.
"And you're mine."
Nathaniel wrapped his arms around him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Evan rested his head against Nathaniel's shoulder.
"Your wife."
Nathaniel smiled.
"My wife."
Evan laughed softly.
"You really enjoy saying that."
"I do."
"Even though I'm going to be your husband."
Nathaniel kissed his forehead.
"Especially then."
Evan looked up.
"Promise me something."
"Anything."
"Never use it to make me feel like I have to be someone I'm not."
Nathaniel's expression became serious.
"Never."
"And never use it to control me."
"Never."
"Then you can keep it."
Nathaniel smiled.
"My wife."
Evan shook his head, laughing.
"You're impossible."
"And you're marrying me."
"Unfortunately."
Nathaniel kissed him.
"Fortunately."
Evan smiled against his lips.
The kiss was brief and warm.
When they separated, Nathaniel rested his hand over Evan's stomach.
The pregnancy had changed their lives.
It had brought fear, uncertainty, public attention, and conflict.
But it hadn't created their love.
That had happened between two people.
Two stubborn people.
Two independent people.
Two men who had slowly learned that love wasn't about possession.
It was about choosing.
Again and again.
Nathaniel looked down at the ring on Evan's finger.
Soon, he would call him husband in front of everyone.
Soon, they would stand together and make promises that would be witnessed by family and friends.
But Nathaniel knew something now.
The title wouldn't create their marriage.
Their daily choices already had.
The shared meals.
The arguments.
The laughter.
The care.
The forgiveness.
The quiet mornings.
The late-night conversations.
The hand resting over a growing bump.
The simple certainty that when one of them walked through the door, the other was home.
Nathaniel kissed Evan's forehead.
"My husband."
Evan smiled.
Then, with a teasing look, he whispered, "Your wife."
Nathaniel laughed.
"Exactly."
And in the quiet warmth of the home they had built together, the strange nickname no longer felt strange at all.
It was simply theirs.
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