Samantha shakes her head incredulously.
“I want to begin,” Dylan continues, “by calling upon the godlike scriptures of my church, the church from whence delivers . . . universal life. Fellow wanderers, I’ve been challenged! I’ve been tested! My road to celestial fulfillment has been one of great tribulation! But since the day I submitted my information unto that holiest of online contact forms, I have been”—he shuts his eyes briefly—“a man of unshakable faith.”
Ben looks at me, and I bite back a laugh.
“Thus, it is my divinely anointed pleasure to welcome you here for the holy gay matrimony of Benjamin Hugo Alejo and Arthur James Seuss. This is—no exaggeration—the most homoromantic occasion in the history of humanity.” He pauses dramatically. “So without further ado, I’d like to turn it over to our grooms, who have taken a vow of writing their own vows. Go ahead, Ben. Make my day—no.” Dylan smiles, gesturing grandly at me. “Make his.”
The next thing I know, Ben’s pulling a slightly crumpled sheet of paper out of his jacket pocket, making a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and an exhale.
“As we all know, I’m not—” he begins, voice shaking a bit. “Sorry, can I—let me start again.” I squeeze his hands and smile at him, and he smiles nervously back. “Okay, do-over time. As we all know, I’m not the fantasy author I thought I was going to be. That was a rough time. But I got through it because of you—you’re my biggest fan and my biggest champion. And you prove over and over how the real world is more magical than anything I could ever write because you’re in it.”
I lose my breath. This much joy can’t be survivable.
“There are so many days when I still can’t believe you’re in my life. What if I hadn’t gone to the post office that day? What if you hadn’t come back to New York? What if I had left? Then when I think about how horrible my life would look without you, I think about everything I’ll do to keep you. Like letting you sing show tunes before bed despite complaints from our neighbors. And never abusing the courteous five-minute period of lateness you’ve so generously granted me.”
I laugh, wiping my eyes.
“Arthur, I love you and I’m so excited to write this next chapter with you,” he says. “And every chapter.”
“Seussical, holy moly,” Dylan says, shaking his head. “What are you gonna say to that?”
“Yeah . . . remind me why we let the published author go first?”
Ben grins, and I grin back.
“You’re lucky I’m not easily intimidated,” I say, and then I pause. “Or that I’m so easily intimidated that I’m used to being intimidated, which is kind of like not being intimidated, I guess?”
A few people chuckle, and I unfold my paper, feeling strangely removed from my body.
Deep breath.
“Dear Boy from the Post Office.”
I sneak a glance up at Ben, who’s already wiping his eyes at the corners.
“Eight years ago, we talked for a few minutes at the post office on Lexington. I was the guy with the hot dog tie. You were the guy mailing stuff back to your ex-boyfriend. And now I’m marrying you.”
There’s a collective awwww, but it must be a million miles away, because right now it’s just us. Me and Ben.
“Much like a narwhal,” I say, glancing back down at my paper, “I can hardly believe this moment is real.”
Ben laughs, and it makes my throat go thick.
“I’m so in love with you. I always have been. You know that. And I know I’m supposed to be vowing stuff, but I don’t really know where to start.” I breathe in. “I just want to make you happy,” I say. “But I’ll be there when you’re not happy, too. If you’re sad, I’ll sit inside it with you. I know I’m going to mess up sometimes, too, but I promise to say sorry a lot, because that’s what people do when they want something to work.”
Ben nods, blinking really quickly.
“Ben, I want to fall asleep next to you and start every day with you. I want infinite do-overs. I want to make you laugh and know everything about you. I want to see what you look like when you’re old, and I’m not even talking about, like, dad old. I mean old old.” Ben laughs again and wipes another tear. “I want your whole entire story. And the bonus footage. And the blooper reel. I just—I love you more than I thought was even possible. Like, it’s honestly kind of ridiculous. And I just keep thinking about that first summer in New York, and how I was actually homesick.” My voice breaks. “But now I know you’re my home.”