“You sure?” Dom asks me. He’s holding on to my arm like he doesn’t want me to leave his side.

I sigh. “Yeah. Better get this over with. It’ll be fine. Bear’s gonna freak, we’ll probably yell at each other, and then we’ll go have hummus like we always do.”

“Vegetarian food is so gross,” Creed mutters.

“I hate it too,” JJ mutters.

“Be nice,” Anna says. She must have thought I couldn’t hear her over the crowd because I heard her follow it up with, “Me too.”

That family, I swear. I’ll keep them in my prayers.

“Better go now,” Otter says. “Just go easy on him. Okay?”

My hands are sweaty. “Did you tell him the same thing?”

Otter grabs me in another hug. “Of course I did,” he whispers harshly in my ear. “You belong to me just as much as he does. This is just… hard for him to hear. He remembers what he went through figuring out he was gay, and he’s just worried about you.”

“I’m not Bear.”

Otter laughs and pulls away. “You are. More than you could ever know.”

Yeah. Probably more than I care to know.

We having fun yet? it asks me.

I turn to leave. Dom stops me. “You sure?” he asks again. He looks so worried, the big oaf.

I smile up at him. “I’m sure. Besides, looks like someone is waiting for you.” I point behind him to where Stacey waits on the sidelines. Dom frowns as she waves at him. She looks unsure, but I don’t have time to think about her right now. One thing at a time.

“But—”

“It’s fine. It’s just Bear.”

“That’s what worries me.” He lets me go.

THE SUN is starting to set off in the west, and I can only see the shadow outline of Bear through the crowd as he stands against the fence, facing away from me. It’s a struggle to put one foot in front of another, but somehow I manage.

It’s just Bear, I scold myself.

It’s just Bear, I reply.

Well, shit. I really should have thought this through a little bit better.

People slap my back as I walk through the crowd. Someone shakes my hand. An older woman I don’t know hugs me, and there’s a fleeting smell of a cache of roses, and for a moment, I think of Mrs. Paquinn. It hurts, and I have to swallow past the lump in my throat, but knowing her like I do, she’d probably be laughing her ass off right now, insisting on being present for whatever conversation is about to take place between Bear and me. Sure, she’d have a smile on her face, and her eyes would have been shining bright with mischief, but I’d have felt the strength in her grip, her hand squeezing my own to let me know that it’d be okay. Because she knew it’d be okay. But she’s not here.

I push through the crowd.

Otter’s right. I saw an opportunity to make a statement, and I took it. Like I’ve done my whole life. It’s part of who I am. It’s part of who we are.