Page 308 of The Lies We Play

I nod anyway. “Okay.”

Creed turns his hand palm up on his knee.

I take it.

The tattoo on his wrist touches mine.

Bella stays quiet.

Tonight feels like a start.

And for now, a start is enough.

Chapter Forty-One

Creed

Then . . .

Listen, I know we agreed to this, but agreement doesn’t mean I’m thrilled about it.

Mostly because the courthouse on Centre Street smells like floor cleaner trying to cover a dirty scent, and because the fluorescent lights make everyone look guilty of something.

We arrive at nine.

Halston is in a gray pinstripe suit that fits him with offensive precision. Liv is in a cream dress that goes to her knees, her hair pinned back. I’m in a dark suit Halston picked out because Halston picks out my suits, and because, apparently, when a man is about to watch the two people he loves get married on paper without him, he should at least have excellent tailoring.

Liv has her hand through Halston’s arm on one side and through mine on the other.

We walk into the building like the three-bodied thing we are.

Even if only two of us are about to become legal.

Room 214 is smaller than I expected. Beige walls. Wood benches. A flag in the corner. A desk with a nameplate. A clock with the emotional warmth of a hospital bill. Judge Ruiz is already there, reading something through rimless glasses, calm as a man who has seen every version of nervous and knows better than to rush it.

We arrive at the front.

Liv goes to the center. Halston goes beside her. I stand next to Liv because that side is where the witness goes, because that side is the part of the room I have been assigned.

It is all generic at first.

Judge Ruiz confirms names. Dates. Identification. He explains the basic legal requirements with the careful boredom of someone who has said these sentences a thousand times. Liv answers clearly. Halston answers with that low, controlled voice he uses when he is trying not to scare people with how much he feels.

Then Judge Ruiz reaches the part where he is supposed to move us toward the signatures.

Halston interrupts.

“We’ve written vows,” he says.

Judge Ruiz looks over his glasses. “Go ahead.”

Halston takes Liv’s hand.

She takes mine.

Then Halston turns his body slightly, not just toward her, but toward both of us.

He looks at Liv first.