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Shoving my dad through the door, I kick the keys out after him. Slamming the door shut, I ram home the deadbolt.

Turning to Beck, I feel the knot release in my chest. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” One edge of his mouth tips up. “Way to grow a pair.”

“Thanks.” I glance out the window to make sure my dad gets into his car. He stomps around it a bit, but eventually slings himself in and drives away.

Turning back to face Beck, I clear my throat. “I know we don’t talk much about feelings?—”

“Jesus, dude.” Beck drags a hand over his head. “We doing this now?”

“Doing what?”

Shaking his head, he looks at me like I’ve just licked the lid of a paint can. “I don’t care who you’re fucking. Who you’re in love with or whatever.”

“I—” How the hell did he know?

Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe that’s all that needs to be said.

Maybe Beck’s the wrong person to say it to.

But maybe I still need to say it out loud. To practice one time before I go back to do what I should have done days ago.

“Sara’s my soulmate,” I say slowly. “But so is a man I just met, this former Marine named Logan. It’s messy and complicated and I’m not sure where things are going, but I’m done being ashamed.

I’m through with denying what I want because I’m afraid of other people’s judgment.

It’s my fucking life and I’ll love who I love and that’s all there is to it. ”

By the time I’m done speaking, I’m breathless. Beck stares for a moment, then shakes his head with a look of disgust.

“A fucking jarhead ?” Fighting a smile, he starts for the door, pausing to punch me in the shoulder. “I thought you were better than that.”

He strides out the door, slamming it behind him.

I watch as he heads down the sidewalk, marching toward the small cottage he’s rented.

It’s lit up inside and I see Cam and the kids playing some kind of video game in the living room.

They look up when Beck enters, and Cam says a few words.

Then they go back to playing their game.

It's real life, right there on display. A normal fucking family, just like any other. Is what I’m wishing for so much different?

“Honey?”

I turn and there’s Mom at the edge of the hall. I didn’t even hear her come out. “He’s gone,” I say unnecessarily. “Dad left and so did Beck.”

“I know.” With her bright purple cast and white hair, she looks fragile and pale, the lamp from her bedroom slinging shadows on the wall behind her. She moves into the living room to rest a light hand on my arm. “Thank you for handling that.”

“You’re welcome.” I need to give my cousin the credit he’s due. “Beck handled most of it.”

“He’s good at that.” I hear her throat click as she swallows. “I’ve written him a letter. I’ll read it out loud to him tomorrow. I—I’m not very good with words.”

“What does your letter say?” I’m holding my breath, holding out hope as it starts to unfurl in my chest.

Mom takes a shuddery breath “I need to tell him I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not standing up for him. For not treating him better when he told us about—” She breaks off there, looking down at the carpet. “I hope it’s not too late.”

“It’s not.” I know for a fact Beck isn’t one for holding a grudge. “It’s never too late.”

“Okay.” Her eyes lift to mine and she gives me a wobbly smile. “I’m going to bed now. Just wanted to say good night and I love you.”

“Love you, too, Mom.” I stoop down to hug her, conscious of how fragile she feels in my arms. “Sleep well.”

“You, too.” She starts back toward the bedroom, then turns by the door of the coat closet. “Trent, honey?”

“Yeah?”

“I look forward to meeting Logan one day.”

“I—”

“Good night, baby.” Lifting her hand, she turns and walks back to her room.

Holy shit.

Did that just happen?

Did I finally speak my truth and the world didn’t crumble? It doesn’t seem possible, and yet—here I am.

And meanwhile, Logan and Sara are three-thousand miles away.

God, the look in her eyes when I left. I can’t get it out of my head. Twice now, I’ve been such a raging asshole to the girl who intended to stand by me in sickness and health, for richer and poorer. We’re already married, as far as that goes.

And Logan? Dear God—I hurt him as well. Is there any hope of coming back from that?

As my mom’s bedroom light flickers off, I know I need to try. I’ve said a lot tonight, but I’ve got more to say. And I need to start with Logan.

Heading into the dining room, I sit down at the old, battered table. If I keep my voice low, I won’t wake Mom. If she’s still awake, well—I’m okay with her hearing. I’m about to be brave here, so she may as well know I’m a man who knows how to fix his mistakes.

Logan picks up on the first ring. “Frogman? Is that really you?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” I draw a deep breath. “Is Sara there?”

“She’s getting a massage.”

“Oh.” I briefly wonder if it’s one of those massages like Eve got. The kind where a consort touches her intimately. It’s none of my business, and yet?—

“She’s at the spa.” He chuckles. “It’s a regular spa with no happy endings.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But I thought you’d like to know.”

“Thanks.” God, I’m screwing this up. “It’s you I wanted to talk to anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Clearing my throat, I decide where to start. “Thanks for setting my mom up with those resources.”

“She spoke with my mother?”

“She did. I think it helped.”

“Good. I’m really glad.”

Now what?

“Look,” I begin, “I’ll just say it. I’m sorry.

I was wrong when I thought that I needed to choose between you guys and family, but even if I did, I–I want to choose you guys.

” God, this is hard. “I know it won’t look like I ever imagined my life or Sara’s.

Our lives together. But there’s room in that vision for more than two people. ”

There’s a long, pregnant pause from Logan. I hear ice cubes rattling around in a glass and I wonder what he’s drinking. “I’m listening,” he says. “What are you saying exactly?”

I need to just spit it out. “I want to make a go of it. The three of us together, I mean.”

“Whoa.” Logan chuckles. “Didn’t see that coming. ”

“Yeah, well…I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on what an asshole I’ve been.”

“You won’t get any arguments from me.” His voice softens a little. “To your credit, you had a lot more shit to unpack than the rest of us. Don’t think I’d have done any better in your shoes.”

“Thanks.” I feel myself smiling a little, though he’s being a dickhead as usual.

“I know I screwed up, but I’m hoping you’ll give me another chance to make it right.

You and Sara, I mean. It’s not the same without all three of us.

Without you and your stupid jokes and your disgusting freeze-dried marshmallows and your fucking cocky-ass smile. ”

There’s a long pause on Logan’s end. Then a sound like he might be chuckling. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck you, too, Frogman.”

God, I missed him. “Need a favor from you, Jarhead.”

“Fuck you in the ass? Sure. No prob.”

“Later.”

“Wait, what?” His stunned silence gives way to laughter. “I was kidding.”

I wasn’t, but we’ll cross that bridge later. “I need your help with something. A project for Sara.”

“A naked project?”

For fuck’s sake. “Do you ever stop thinking about sex?”

“Gonna have to, I guess.” He’s so obnoxiously cheerful I want to punch him. Or kiss him. Whatever. “At the end of this month, I won’t be a consort anymore.”

“What?” Guess it’s my turn to be shocked. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope. It’s a good thing, don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it the next time I see you.” The ice cubes clink again. “When will that be?”

“I’ll be on the last shuttle boat tomorrow.” That’s assuming I make the first flight out tomorrow. I’ll have to ask Beck to watch over Mom, but I don’t think he’ll mind. Something tells me they’ll have lots to talk about once she reads him that letter.

But I focus on Logan right now. “Do you have any woodworking skills?”

“Here’s me, maturely refraining from making a joke about working your wood.”

“For God’s sake?—”

“Yes,” he says quickly, and I hear the smile in his voice. “My grandpa taught me to carve, believe it or not. And I know which end of the hammer to hit things with if that’s what you’re asking. Why?”

“There’s something I’d like to give Sara.” I say a silent prayer Ashton is willing to help us. “Something that’ll mean a lot more if you’re part of it, too.”

Logan doesn’t hesitate. “Count me in, Frogman.”

“Thanks, Jarhead.” I almost hang up, but there’s one more thing I need to say. “And Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I fucking love you.”

He chuckles. “I fucking love you, too.”