Page 124 of End Game

Her thumb moves over her ring. “There were several reasons. First and foremost, it’s what the guys all agreed to, on their own. The other four without Holden or me in the conversation. But also, his family and career. What marriage actually means to him. He was probably the most traditional coming into this, and he and Shawn both want kids with me. There were a lot of conversations. A lot. Holden being my legal husband makes sense for us.”

“But he doesn’t get more say? Or more priority?”

“Not because he’s the husband, no. If something affects everyone, everyone still needs a voice. But legally?” Her expression grows more thoughtful. “That’s different. We can mean all six of us when we say family, but any form that involves ‘next of kin’ doesn’t give a shit what we mean when we say ‘family.’”

I let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. I’m familiar with forms being assholes.”

“You married Griffin because you needed health insurance. You already know there are things that change with the legal status.”

I nod.

But I mostly know what it changed for me.

Insurance. Prescriptions. Being able to order diabetic supplies without mentally rearranging every bill I owe.

I haven’t spent nearly as much time thinking about the things the same piece of paper doesn’t do for anyone else.”

“Ethan and Jeremiah had already made legal arrangements for me, for all of us, before there was even a proposal,” she says. “If something happens to either of them, there are safeguards in place. And don’t get me wrong, we’d be just fine without it, but they both earn a significantly higher income than the rest of us, and they have the savings, investments, and insurance to go with that.” She picks up her cup before remembering it’s empty. “But marrying Holden doesn’t somehow extend a marriage certificate over the rest of the house.”

“So what would you suggest?”

“Talk to a lawyer who understands what you’re trying to protect. Hopefully a very nonjudgmental one. You’ll need to discuss things like wills, beneficiaries, medical powers of attorney… what happens with the house, not just who inherits money.” She pauses. “And not just what happens to you, but the rest of your polycule, too.”

That catches.

Because I can picture Griffin in a hospital bed, and all of us showing up. All the decisions would land with me because I’m the wife. I can picture Micah trying to get an answer about Dex from a medical system that protects health information the way it should. Ronan, who specifically asked to be told when someone is sick, standing somewhere a stranger has decided he doesn’t belong.

My fingers tighten around my cup. “I think we need that conversation.”

“Probably. We’re still having versions of it. There isn’t one stack of paperwork that makes everything identical to being legally married, and what is needed can change over time.”

She doesn’t say it dramatically. Not like it’s a lecture. Not like it’s some kind of emergent issue. Just something that we should think about.

“Sounds like a sexy conversation,” I mutter.

“Extremely. Nothing says romance and forever like deciding who gets to argue with an insurance company.”

“Griffin. Definitely Griffin.”

We both laugh, and I set my phone down before I turn this into a full existential crisis.

Suddenly I look at my watch and realize it’s half past noon. “Holy shit.”

“Do you need to go?” Alexis asks, concerned.

“No. I just thought it was still morning.”

“Want to go get something to eat?” she asks as she closes her laptop.

I check my glucose. “Yes, and maybe then we can pretend to work somewhere else.”

We get a booth near the back of a deli, far enough from the door that the cold air doesn’t hit us every time someone comes in.

After we order, I give myself an insulin bolus, knowing this will probably be too many carbs.

She doesn’t ask about it, or about whether I should be eating bread, which is nice.

It’s a low fucking bar, but I appreciate it.