“Arthur thought it would be cool if I read the opening pages for you all. It’s bound to change, but this is the version that sold . . .” I open to the first page and stop. “Actually, I can’t.”
“Boo!” Dylan says. And of course Sammy chimes in, too.
“Arthur, would you mind reading for me?” I ask. “I’m too nervous.”
Arthur looks surprised. “But I haven’t rehearsed. Can I have a second to get into character?”
“I love you, but absolutely not.”
We swap spots on the ottoman again.
Arthur opens the book, and I’m waiting, but he reads, “Chapter one . . .”
“Wait. Art. I think you skipped a page.”
He looks at me. “Did you sneak in a prologue? I thought you were anti-prologue—”
He flips back to the dedication page.
“To Arthur,” he reads. “My forever husband.”
His blue eyes water as everyone gasps.
I get down on one knee and pull a ring out of my pocket. “Do you have any edits?”
Arthur
Two Years Later
Middletown, CT
What do you call a moment that’s so perfect, you’re scared you dreamed it?
I’m close enough to make out some of the faces in the crowd, and it’s the strangest patchwork of people. Musa and his wife, Rahmi, sitting next to Ben’s author friends. Mrs. Ortiz from up the block making kissy faces at one of Jacob’s toddlers. Juliet and Emerald. Namrata and David. So many relatives, too—like Uncle Milton and his Special Lady Friend from upstate, not to mention the ultimate old-lady power duo: Bubbe and Abuelita. All these people, from every era of our lives.
No ex-boyfriends, though. We weren’t surprised when Hudson and Rafael declined our invitation, and we were even less surprised about Mikey and Zach. Mario’s the only one who seemed crushed he couldn’t make it—he couldn’t get away from his writers’ room, but he sent us a video message with lots of congratulatory kisses from his lucky I Love You Beary Much bear.
An instrumental version of “Marry You” starts playing, and Ben steps into the aisle. I’m not close enough to make out his expression, but I can picture it—the little self-conscious half smile when he knows people are looking at him. I call it his book-signing face. He’s flanked by his parents, and they’re moving so slowly, probably because Isabel keeps clasping people’s hands as she passes.
“Still breathing?” my mom asks.
I shake my head. “I’m getting married.”
To Ben. To the guy I’ve been in love with since I was sixteen years old.
Ben and I haven’t seen each other for hours, but we woke up early so we could wander around Main Street together, just us. Ben signed stock at RJ Julia, and we had brunch at Ford News Diner. And of course we hit up the Bark-ery for homemade dog biscuits, since it’s our first time leaving Beauregard with anyone other than Ben’s parents, and Ben’s not taking it well. I did manage to talk him out of FaceTiming the dog sitter from inside the store, so Beau could see all his options. You could say I have a pretty good idea now about what Ben’s going to be like as a dad.
Is it weird that I can’t wait?
The song switches to “Only Us” from Dear Evan Hansen, which is apparently Sammy’s cue to full-on somersault down the aisle. Literally no idea where his ring pillow is, but it’s cool, because we’ve got the actual rings in our pockets. Past Arthur and Past Ben knew way better than to let someone with that much Dylan DNA anywhere near them. Sammy throws his fists in the air when he reaches the chuppah, like a fighter entering the ring.
My dad pats my back. “I think it’s go time. You ready?”
The sound that comes out of my mouth definitely isn’t a word, but he just laughs and straightens my tie.
Then my parents hook their arms through mine, and I’m vaguely aware that a hundred faces have turned around to watch me.
But all I see is Ben. The way he’s standing so straight in his dark gray suit—I think he’s too nervous to slouch. Our eyes lock, and he presses his fist to his mouth, like he’s trying to hold back a sob.
I legitimately can’t believe I get to marry this person.
Ben tries to kiss me hello as soon as I reach the chuppah, but Dylan bops him on the head with a rolled-up sheet of paper. “No spoilers!”
“It’s a wedding,” says Ben.
“You’re not married yet!” Dylan turns back to the crowd. “Friends! Enemies!” Then he pauses, bowing slightly. “Lovers.”