Page 759 of End Game

Then add one more line.

This is a safe space for people whose lives don't fit neatly into somebody else's template.

I send the screenshot to Alexis.

She hearts it almost immediately.

Laugherty won't care.

If anything, Alexis will probably ask why I didn't put it up sooner.

I share the wedding photo on my personal socials too, with Dex's post linked beneath it.

My caption is shorter.

My family. Proudly. Privately. Honestly.

Then I put my phone down.

Griffin sits beside me on the couch, one hand resting warm on my thigh.

Across the room, Dex and Micah are arguing about whether Ronan's newly discovered “fan club” requires merchandise.

Ronan is informing them with increasing specificity that it does not.

Nothing feels different.

That's the strange part.

A small and remarkably nosy corner of the internet knows now.

And the house is still the house.

Dex's shoes are still directly in the middle of the walkway.

Micah is eating something that I'm almost positive came off my plate.

Griffin's thumb is moving lazily against my leg.

Ronan looks approximately four minutes away from reaching his people quota and disappearing to his room.

Being public doesn't mean belonging to the public.

It doesn't mean every private thing becomes a secret waiting to leak.

It just means I'm not pretending the people I love disappear when somebody else is looking.

Dex glances up from his phone. “Someone asked for the chart again.”

Ronan doesn't even turn around. “No.”

“I really think there's a market.”

“There isn't.”

“There demonstrably is.”

Micah leans over and kisses the side of Dex's head.