Page 238 of What We Become

Knox picks up his bowl, heads back to the mat, and sends it curling toward the jack.

“Eloquent. Brief. Very Knox.” I raise my beer. “To the monogamous heterosexual in our polycule. You’re a rare breed, big man, but I respect your commitment to exclusively tending our lady’s stretchy garden.”

“To Knox,” Micah agrees, lifting his glass. “May he never be interested in our asses.”

“To Knox,” Eli and Holden echo.

Knox sits down, looks mildly uncomfortable with the toast, and says nothing.

Holden bowls again. It curves away from the jack and keeps going. His score remains an impressively consistent zero.

“We need to talk about vows,” Eli says, refilling glasses from the pitcher.

“What about them?” I ask.

“Have you written yours?”

“I’ve written three drafts. The first was too funny. The second was too sincere. The third made me cry in the bathroom. I’m going with the third.”

“Good instinct.” Eli nods. “If it makes you cry, it’ll make her cry.”

“And if she cries, everyone cries,” Micah adds. “It’s the Adams domino effect.”

“Mine are done,” Micah says. “Short. She’d hate it if I went long.”

Knox nods. “Mine are done.”

“How many words?” I ask him.

He thinks. “Twenty. Maybe.”

“Twenty words?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s barely enough to say I love you.”

Knox grunts.

“What about you?” I ask Holden. “Written yours?”

Holden picks at the label on his beer. “Working on it.”

“Working on it as in drafting? Or working on it as in staring at a blank page?”

He cuts me a look that confirms the second option.

“Holden.” I lean forward. “Holdie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, Hol-hol—if your vows start with ‘pursuant to the emotional evidence gathered during the course of our relationship,’ I will object at our wedding.”

“You can’t object. It’s a commitment ceremony.”

“Watch me.”

He almost smiles. “I’ll figure it out. I have time.”