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Owen shrugs, completely unbothered as he sips his drink. “I mean, I don't even know who Symbiotic is. For all I know, Quinn could play the accordion.”
Salem spits a mouthful of water back into her glass. “I'm telling him you said that. It'll piss him off. I love it.”
Speaking of the band’s guitarist, her phone lights up a moment later with his name requesting a video chat.
“Oh, I should take this,” she says, sliding from her seat with an apologetic smile. “I'll be right back.”
When she walks away, Owen leans across the table and watches her disappear outside. “She’s something else, huh?”
I don’t even try to hide my smile. “Yeah, she is. That's why I love her.”
He hums thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on the table. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course. Always.”
His lips pucker around his straw as he peers at me from under his lashes. “Do you still want to be married to her?”
Well… shit.
Floundering for an appropriate response, I glance down at the scratched wedding band still on my finger. There's only one answer that comes to mind, but anxiety holds my tongue hostage. I need to say it, though. I've never lied to my boyfriend, not once, and I definitely won't start now.
“Yeah,” I tell him honestly. “I do. But I still want you, too.”
“Okay.”
My brows slam down. “...okay?”
“You love her,” Owen says simply, “and she loves you. That’s obvious. But you love me, too. I’m not here to make you choose, babe. If you still want to be married, then I’m good with it. I just needed to hear you say it out loud.”
For a second, I’m rendered speechless. Utterly stunned. The trust in his eyes, that quiet acceptance—it’s everything I didn’t know I needed.
“Thank you,” I rasp. “Seriously. You don’t know what that means to me.”
My boyfriend just leans in and plants his lips on mine. “I think I do. Now, go and tell her the divorce is off so we can live our polycule dream life. This economy sucks.”
A laugh bubbles up as I tug him against my chest and lick into his mouth. When we part, he shoves me toward the door with a smack on the ass, and I head outside to finally—after six long months—give my wife a kiss.
Epilogue Two
Salem
The air outside bites a little more than I expect, crisp with late spring rain. I tuck my free hand into my flannel pocket on the patio as Quinn’s name flashes across my phone again.
“Alright, alright,” I huff, answering the call. “Miss me already, groupie?”
Q’s face fills the screen, long blond hair and scruffy beard damp from a fresh shower. “Did you tell your husband’s boyfriend that I play the fucking accordion?”
Wheezing out a laugh, I move toward the fire pit and check our group chat. Sure enough, Logan added Owen into it. “Yep. He thinks you're in a polka band.”
Pepper cackles somewhere off-screen. He angles the phone to where his wife sits behind him on the bed, dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders. “Shall we dress Q up in some suspenders for us?”
“Only if he wears really short shorts.”
Quinn just grunts before bringing the phone back to his always pissed-off face. “You know this means the boyfriend has to sign an NDA.”
I roll my eyes and open my mouth to clap back with something snarky, but he speaks again before I get the chance. “You also missed check in. What did we tell you about rules, Little Red?”
My traitorous stomach flips, heat pooling low in my belly—but I act like I’m mulling over an answer to his question. “That they’re meant to be broken?”
