Page 555 of End Game

Dex brings the leftover wild card pizza into the living room even though nobody needs more food.

For a minute, I just look at them.

A year ago, I thought loving Cami meant figuring out how much of myself I could tolerate sharing.

I had that backwards.

None of this made my marriage smaller.

None of them took something that belonged to me.

Cami is still my wife.

I'm still her husband.

And the three men scattered around my living room aren't evidence that I lost some part of that.

They're evidence that my definition of family was too small.

Dex drops onto the floor and puts his feet on my coffee table. “Can we talk about the fact your brother has elite pizza taste?”

“No.”

“Your mom hates me.”

“She hugged you.”

“Out of pity.”

Ronan looks over his book. “She hugged you because you asked whether she wanted leftover pizza for breakfast.”

“That was hospitality.”

“That was harassment.”

Micah laughs.

Cami settles deeper against my chest.

I wrap both arms around her and look around the room again.

This is the life I chose, and it does make me happy.

Chapter forty-two

Faction Fallout

I wait until I have my shoes on to tell them.

It’s intentional and for the best.

At least, that's what I tell myself while I tighten the laces on my boots and listen to Dex and Cami argue about whether the leftovers in the refrigerator are still safe to eat.

“They're four days old,” Griffin says from the kitchen.

“Which is basically fresh,” Dex argues.

“That is not what fresh means.”