Still, I’m the one bankrolling it, and I know that makes Marlowe nervous. Her old place might have been a shithole, but she paid the rent. She called the shots. Now she’s taking a huge chance by putting her and Tabby’s eggs in my basket, and I know, much as she trusts me, that it leaves her feeling vulnerable.

Marlowe has been on the receiving end of far too much shitty circumstance over the past decade, whether that’s come in the form of dickhead exes or Tabby’s heart condition or the endless flaws in our healthcare system that make those dependent on it feel so vulnerable, and it ends here.

This is where I tie everything up with a great, big legal bow so that she and Tabby are protected for evermore in an ironclad way.

Only my plan is to cloak it in more romantic terms than that.

And I’ll probably wait until I’ve given her at least one orgasm before I come clean about the enormous trust fund I’ve set up for Tabby.

It’s only prudent. Athena would try to give the whole lot away otherwise.

I put the fancy carrier bag on the table, and Marlowe arches an elegant eyebrow at the Cartier logo. God, I wasn’t expecting to feel this nervous, but I guess splaying your heart wide open and slapping it onto the table in front of the two people whose love and acceptance you want most in the world is always going to feel raw.

‘Like I said, we’re a family.’ I reach into the bag with a shaky hand and extract one small box and then a slightly larger one. ‘But I’d like us to make it official, so that everyone understands that we belong to each other.’

It’s still a weird-as-fuck concept in the best possible way: we belong to each other. These two have accepted me to be their person. My shakiness worsens as I open the smaller box and hold it out to Marlowe.

‘Which is why I’m asking you to marry me,’ I say, meeting her stunned gaze. In this light, her brown eyes are endless dark pools in which I’d happily drown. ‘I want to be with you until the day I die, love. I don’t ever, ever want to be apart from you.’

Tabby squeals, and Marlowe and I both laugh, as if we can use the tension-breaker. Marlowe opens her mouth but I hold up my free hand to cut her off. ‘Hang on. Not quite done yet. You ladies need to confer before you give me your answers.’