Page 141 of Governor

He unlocks his phone and shows us a picture, an infinity loop. “The symbol for poly is a lemniscate inside a heart. I don’t want something that obvious, and which might make people ask questions. A small one of these, on the inside of my left wrist, and on the inside of your right wrists. Unless you’d prefer it inside your right ankle. If anyone asks, you can always tell them it reminds you that your opportunities are unlimited. If anyone notices we all have them, then we can tell them that the three of us have them because we are friends, and tell the truth, that we got them in college.”

I nod. “Thank you, Sir. On my wrist, please.” This isbig. This is permanent. That he’s willing to put a mark on himself like that, matching ours...

It’s even better than a wedding ring. And I want it where I can easily look at it no matter where I am.

“Pet?”

She’s blinking back tears and nodding. “Yes, Sir. Thank you. I want it on my wrist, too, please.”

“Then we’re good with this? This is a case where I’m giving you the opportunity to say no, if you want, and it won’t be held against you. Pet?”

She nods. “Yes, Sir.”

His gaze focuses on me. “Boy?”

I nod. “Yes, Sir.”

The rare beauty of the smile he gives me warms my heart and threatens to make me hard. It’s not a playful smirk, or a sexytime smile, or any number of smiles he has. It’s a sweet, fragile smile I rarely see him wear.

He’shappy.

We’vemade him happy.

I don’t remember Carter smiling as often or as freely as he has since we started all of this. I like being the reason someone is happy. Two someones, because Susa sure as heck seems to enjoy this, too.

Maybe it’s not the family I envisioned myself one day having. Maybe it means I’ll never have children.

Maybe it’s better that Idon’thave kids, especially considering how I was raised. Maybe I’d only be damning a child to being as fucked up as I am. I’d always wanted kids before, but if I have to trade the idea of children not yet born for these two people who, for some crazy reason, want me?

Yeah. I’m not an idiot.

Besides, why would I subjugate a child to being raised always in the spotlight? And with Susa, they will be, once she starts running for office. It won’t surprise me in the slightest if we one day find ourselves living in the DC area because she’s been elected as a US representative or senator, or is even a cabinet member. She insists she doesn’t want to run for POTUS, but if she decided she does, I’d support her.

I’ll follow her, and Carter, for the rest of my life and give thanks for it. Because I know that my life is infinitely better for them being in my life.

That makes Carter’s choice of symbolism even more appropriate.

We go inside, Carter talks to the tattoo artist, and we fill out paperwork. Carter pays, and we all go back to watch while he goes first.

The tattoo artist prints out the template and examines Carter’s inner left arm. “Wow, you’ve got some fairly fresh scarring.”

“Will that be a problem?”

“It means I can’t put it any higher than here without risking issues.” He holds the template sheet in place to show Carter and get his approval. “There’s no scar tissue there. But if we put it there, it might be visible, even with a long-sleeved shirt. I know you mentioned wanting to be able to hide it.”

“That’s fine.” Carter’s gaze locks onto mine. “It’s more important Owen can hide his.”

The man soaps and shaves Carter’s inner left wrist, then places the template and gets final approval before he starts inking. It’s drawn as a 3D design, maybe an inch or so long, and runs from side to side on his wrist. The interior is shaded with grey and black, and the entire process from start to finish takes less than thirty minutes.

I volunteer to go next. Carter holds my left hand as he approves where the artist places the design on my right wrist, not releasing my left hand until I’m finished and sport a matching design.

Carter remains in place while Susa gets hers, also holding her left hand and approving of the placement.

Once we finish, before leave the studio, Carter has us hold out our wrists next to his, and he takes a picture of the three of them together. It’s impossible to identify who we are, not even catching his wedding band in the picture.

The smile that sweeps across his face as he studies that picture will forever be embedded in my heart and my memory.

Carter—joyful.