Page 27

26

Oliver

Lisbon was all color and contrast. The tiled buildings glowed in the late afternoon sun, each one a patchwork of blue, yellow, and white. The three of us were halfway up a hill in Alfama, taking a break on the worn stone steps while Hayes tried to figure out if we’d taken a wrong turn. Hudson had his arm slung across his knee, squinting at the street signs as if they were speaking a secret language only he could decipher. During moments like these, I almost forgot that they killed people on a regular basis and enjoyed it. It was entertaining seeing them trying to do touristy things with me.

I sat between them, the backs of my shoulders just brushing theirs. It was hot in that sticky, southern way—humidity clinging to your skin, the kind of heat that made you slow down whether you wanted to or not. But I didn’t mind too much. It was definitely a different climate than what we were used to.

“Are you doing okay?” Hudson asked quietly, his voice low enough to stay between the three of us. I nodded, and he didn’t push; he just gave my knee a brief squeeze before going back to his map-wrangling.

Hayes pulled a bottle of water from his bag and handed it to me without a word. It wasn’t a big gesture, but it stuck with me. They were always like that—always noticing. If I got quiet for too long or started drifting in my own head, one of them would reach out. A gentle touch on the arm, a joke to make me smile, a yummy snack pressed into my hand. Thankfully, they didn’t make a show of it.

It was just how they were with me now, especially ever since that night I’d run away. It’d been around two and a half months since then, but I could tell the threat of me leaving still bothered them.

The three of us sat there for a while, not saying much, just watching the trams rattle by below and the rooftops shimmer in the sun. Eventually, Hayes stood and offered me his hand. I took it without thinking, letting him pull me to my feet. Hudson grinned and led the way, promising me pastries and alcohol before sunset.

I followed them up the hill, the air thick with the smell of orange blossoms. At the top, I closed my eyes for a moment and listened—to the music, to the river, to the steady breathing of the people who mattered most to me. There was nothing dramatic about it, nothing remarkable, just a beautiful moment held still in time.

It was everything.

We didn’t leave the overlook right away. The breeze had picked up, tugging softly at the edge of my shirt.

Hudson sat up after a while, ruffling his somewhat sweaty hair and stretching his arms overhead. “Hard to believe we’re going to be wearing suits next month,” he said. “I still can’t believe Grey’s getting fucking married.”

Hayes leaned in, his arm brushing against mine. “Do you want a wedding?”

I shrugged, eyes drifting toward the shimmering ribbon of the river below. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it like that. It always felt… far away. Like something other people do.”

Hayes nodded. “You have us now if you want one.”

“We’d have to be engaged first,” I laughed. “I don’t know… A wedding just seems like a lot of work, and I hate parties anyway. I know you two would hate it, too.”

“Not like we’d need one anyway. All that matters is that certificate we—” Hayes glared at his brother over my head, effectively shutting him up mid-sentence.

“What is it?” I asked, watching them closely. They looked so fucking suspicious. “What were you going to say?”

Hudson snorted before covering his mouth with his palm. Hayes sighed, shaking his head at his twin. “You’re already married to me.”

I paused, hissing, “Excuse me? I think I’d remember that.”

“You’re legally married to me.”

Hudson said, “It wasn’t even that hard to do. We just hired someone to play you, stole your documents, and that was it.”

My eye twitched. “And why was this done?”

They both shrugged.

“Am I only married to Hayes, not you?” I asked Hudson, massaging my temple.

“You could only legally get married to one of us, and Hayes won the game we played to decide who’d get to do it.”

I stared at them. Hudson was grinning like a kid who knew he was in trouble but found the whole thing hilarious, and Hayes was trying very hard to look serious, which only made it worse.

“So… you forged my identity, impersonated me, and got married to me behind my back. And didn’t tell me? Were you planning to?”

Hayes tilted his head, a flicker of sheepishness breaking through. “We hadn’t discussed that part yet.”

Hudson chimed in, “It was mostly symbolic. We didn’t tell you because we knew you’d overthink it. And we wanted it to be… romantic.”

“Romantic,” I echoed flatly.

Hayes rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, you already live with us, go everywhere with us, love us. This just made it official to the government.”

I dropped my head into my hands, joking despite myself. “You know, most people at least ask before committing identity theft.”

Hudson smirked. “It felt inefficient.”

I peeked at them through my fingers. “What if I hadn’t wanted to be married to either of you?”

They both went silent for half a beat. Hudson looked faintly horrified, while Hayes stared at me like I’d just suggested I was moving to Mars.

“But you do,” Hayes said matter-of-factually, not a trace of doubt in his voice. “You love us, so…” Hayes leaned in, pressing a kiss to my temple. Hudson pulled me into his side, his laugh muffled against my hair.

“You’re buying me a fucking cake before the end of this trip,” I muttered.

* * *

The evening sky over Lisbon seemed to turn gold in slow motion. We’d found a small bar on our walk back to the hotel, mostly empty except for a few locals sipping ginjinha and watching the sunset like it was a show they’d seen a hundred times but never got tired of.

Hayes had his arm around my waist, thumb tracing circles against my shirt. Hudson was on my other side, chin resting lightly on my shoulder as he pointed out where the 25 de Abril Bridge met the water, like he’d memorized it just for me. The air smelled like smoke, and something sweet was baking nearby—hopefully my goddamn wedding cake.

The sun finally dipped low enough to turn the rooftops copper, and music floated up from a nearby window—a slow, wistful Fado song that clung to the moment like it belonged there. I reached for their hands without thinking, lacing my fingers through theirs.

We stayed like that for a while, arms around each other, watching the last light drain from the sky. Nothing was said, but everything was understood.

At some point, Hayes tugged me to my feet. “Dance with us.”

“I am not dancing,” I said. “Don’t be weird.”

Hudson rolled his eyes at me and pulled me up from the chair I had been sitting in. I grumbled and sighed, but it didn’t matter. Eventually, I gave in. Hudson wrapped one arm around my back while Hayes took my hand, and the three of us moved slowly to the music, bodies close, laughter low. We probably looked ridiculous, swaying in a triangle, half on beat and half just making it up.

But I couldn’t stop smiling.