Hennessy had tried to explain that there couldn’t have been one ideal ace relationship because everyone had different limits and preferences. Not everyone liked to kiss or hug, and not everyone fought over laundry—because they wouldn’t fold the damn towels wrong like Hennessy does, and chances are they’d pick up the bathmat, for fuck’s sake, because every person on the planet apparently knows how to pick up the damn bathmat, Jordan—but the sentiment was the same.

We were far from perfect. But we were proof it was possible to be happy. To be perfectly happy.

Utterly, pristinely, perfectly happy.

I wouldn’t change one thing.

Not one iota of a thing.

Okay, so maybe I’d change the way Hennessy folds the damn towels, but he may have possibly been correct about me leaving the bathmat on the bathroom floor. Not that I’d ever tell him that. He was incredibly organised and planned everything meticulously, and my attitude of ‘just wing it because what could possibly go wrong’ made his eye twitch. Which was why he had the support group meeting notes all printed out in bullet form, even though the SMART Board PowerPoint presentation was more than adequate.

I stood at the front of the room with Hennessy’s clipboard as everyone filed in. They were early, but the PowerPoint presentation was ready to go.

“You holding the fort today?” Bonny asked.

“Yep. Hennessy’s stuck at work. Any and all complaints need to be written on a twenty dollar note and handed in to me before you leave, thanks.”

That got me a few laughs. I knew these people, and they knew me. They knew I had a tendency to get off track, and sometimes there was nonsensical rambling. But I liked these people. They were my people. My tribe. Where I belonged.

“Okay, so,” I started, opening the clipboard. “Hennessy kindly made notes on a clipboard for me. In point form, and he even noted when it’s a good time to pause and encourage discussions.” I turned the clipboard around and showed them. “See? I’m not overly familiar with the vacuum cleaner at home, but I can operate a SMART Board.”

They all smiled, and I continued to read. “And today’s meeting topic is Can Asexual People Get Married?” I stopped reading. That was a weird subject choice, but whatever. We had discussed all sorts of things at these meetings. I looked at the audience, hit the button that started the presentation, and read the first bullet point that was written on the screen for everyone to see. “Sometimes you drive me crazy.”

I stopped again and frowned. “Wait a minute,” I said. “I think I have the wrong file or something.”

“Here, let me,” Nataya said, getting up and quickly taking control of the laptop. She was some computer engineer wizard at Hogwarts or something, so if anyone could fix it…