Page 824 of End Game

“And you can stand with me too.”

His expression goes soft in a way that reminds me how much of Dex's personality is deliberately built to hide exactly this reaction.

“Dollface.”

“Don't make me regret it.”

He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I won't.”

Mostly, I believe him.

I turn toward Griffin. “Who are you putting on your side?”

His answer comes without much thought.

“Ronan and Micah.”

Ronan's pen stops moving.

Micah looks up.

There is more history in that arrangement than the simple symmetry of two people on each side. Ronan and Griffin were friends and roommates long before I walked into this house and rearranged everyone's emotional furniture. Micah has quietly been part of the structure holding all of us together for almost as long.

Griffin looks at Ronan first. “You good with that?”

Ronan's expression does something small and complicated before he nods. “Yeah.”

Then, because apparently sincerity has a maximum allowable duration in this house, he adds, “If you're expecting a traditional best-man speech, however, I recommend reconsidering.”

Griffin smiles. “Wasn't planning on one.”

Dex leans back and studies the imaginary lineup. “So we're symmetrical.”

And suddenly I can see that too.

Clay and Dex beside me.

Ronan and Micah beside Griffin.

Nobody hidden. Nobody awkwardly demoted to close friend because explaining the truth would make somebody's aunt uncomfortable.

The ceremony would be about Griffin and me because it is our marriage we're celebrating.

That doesn't mean the rest of our family disappears for the day.

Warmth spreads through my chest.

Then my brain supplies the obvious missing people.

“My parents.”

The table quiets.

Griffin's hand finds my thigh beneath it almost immediately. “You don't have to decide that right now.”

“I think I already did.”

That is the problem.